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JERUSALEM,
THE
CITY OF HEROD AND SALADIN.
JERUSALEM,
CITY OF HEROD AND SALADIN.
BY
WALTER BESANT,
AND
E. H. PALMER,
LATE LORD ALMONER'S PROFESSOR OF ARABIC IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE.
NEW EDITION.
NEW YORK :
SCRIBNER AND WELFORD.
1889.
[ The right of translation is reserved.]
\
3V
I o
PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION.
The preparation of a new edition of this book is like
the opening of a chapter in one's life that had been
long closed. It was written in the years 1870 and 1871,
now nineteen years ago. At that time, as it now seems
to me, the days must have been a great deal longer, so
that one could do much more work ; also, one had much
less work to do, and there was time for talk and play.
But the compilation of this history was to both its
authors a true labour of love. Professor Palmer, as
yet little known outside Cambridge, was fresh from his
journey across the Desert of the Wanderings, and full
of enthusiasm for the subject. I myself, as yet feeling
my way in other lines, was then one of those whom the
vexed questions of the Holy City and its topography
still held enchained. They are questions which are
always being taken up by one enthusiast after another;
they seem continually to be on the point of solution,
and yet they never are solved ; so that there are some
who believe that they are destined never to be solved.
Still, the attempt to prove where were the Tombs of
the Kings, where was Constantine's Holy Sepulchre,
where may be found the true site of the Holy Sepulchre
viii PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION.
where was the site of the Temple, and what was believed
concerning these sites by Christian and by Moslem,
has led to the study of a great mass of literature which
might otherwise have been neglected, but which throws
an immense light upon manners and customs ancient
and mediaeval. It was out of this kind of reading,
miscellaneous rather than methodical, that this book
came into existence. Palmer contributed, for his share,
and from his reading in Arabic and Persian historians
and geographers, the chapters which deal with the
Mohammedan views of the City's history. These
views, when this book was first issued, had never before
been presented in English form. He also wrote, from
his own observation and notes, a chapter descriptive of
'Modern Jerusalem,' which I have suppressed, because
so many changes have happened in the City since the
year 1870 that his account can be considered no longer
faithful.
Many things have been discovered, besides, since
we first wrote this book. Thanks to the labours of
Conder, Ganneau, Schick and others, we now know,
with as much certainty as can be expected, the exact
site of the Pool of Bethesda : we have found a portion
of the Second Wall — but, alas ! the rest of it eludes
our search : it has been proved that the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre covers very ancient tombs : the name
of Sion has been discovered in the Wady Sahyun, on
the west side of the city: the true Hill of Golgotha has
been discovered : the rock-levels, first laid down by Sir
PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION.
Charles Wilson, have been greatly increased in number:
the south course of the First Wall has been traced : the
famous inscription of the Pool of Siloam has estab-
lished the antiquity of the well-known tunnel. Many
other things have been found, all of which, to my mind,
tend to prove the soundness of the views which we
put forward in the Appendix to the First Edition —
views which are also, in the main, held by Warren and
Conder. Briefly they are : That the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre stands upon the site chosen for Con-
stantine by people who then knew no more on the
subject than we know at the present day : That the
real site of the Sepulchre is near that of the
Place of Stoning, north of the city : That the
Temple of Herod stood within the present Haram
Wall, which then contained no other building : That
the Dome of the Rock. was as certainly and as truly
built by Abdel Melek as St. Paul's by Christopher
Wren. It would be a great joy to some could it be
proved that the Second Wall runs outside the Church
of the Holy Sepulchre, because the discovery would
absolutely necessitate the downfall of a mass of super-
stition the like of which the world has never seen.
But the years pass, and the course of the Second Wall
still refuses to be found.
I have only to add that I have not ventured to make
any alteration in Palmer's work, and that I have made
very little alteration in my own. I do not think there
are many historical errors. There are one or two com-
PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION.
paratively unimportant contradictions, but on the whole
the Mohammedan and the Christian authorities agree
together wonderfully well. The testimonies of the
former as to the building of the Dome of the Rock
have, since the writing of this book, been collected
and translated by Mr. Guy le Strange, and published
in the Journal of the Palestine Exploration Fund.
This chain of evidence will also form part of a larger
work on which that admirable scholar is at present |
engaged.
It would have been a great happiness to my lamented
friend, had he been living, to have assisted in the pre-
paration of this new edition of a work into which he
threw so much of his learning and so much of his I
time.
W. B.
United University Club,
September, 1888.
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
Very few words are needed to introduce this volume.
It is intended to give a history of the City of Jerusalem
from about the year 30 to the present time. This
, period includes the siege and capture by Titus, the last
revolts of the Jews, the Christian occupation of three
hundred years, the Mohammedan conquest, the build-
ing by the Mohammedans of the Dome of the Rock,
the Crusades, the Christian kingdom, the reconquest
of the city, and a long period of Mohammedan occu-
pation, during which no event has happened except
the yearly flocking of pilgrims to the Church of the
Sepulchre, and an occasional quarrel among the
monks.
There are here, surely, sufficient materials for the
historian, if only he knows how to use them.
For the modern period, that of the Christian king-
dom, two sources of information exist — one, the con-
temporary and later chronicles of the Crusaders,
written either in Latin or Langue d'Oil ; and the
other the Arabic historians themselves. I have written
my own part of the book from the former ; to my
colleague is due all that part (the Mohammedan con-
quest, the chapter on Saladin, etc.) which has been
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
taken from Arabic writers. Most of this has the great
advantage of being entirely new, and now for the first
time introduced to English readers. For my own
share in the work I claim no other novelty than thelj
presentation of facts as faithfully as I could gather
them, at first hand, and from the earliest writers.
There is nothing sacred about the actors in this long
story we have to tell, and we have not thought it
necessary to endeavour to invest them, as is generally
done by those who write on Jerusalem, with an appear
ance of sanctity because they fought for the City oi
Sacred Memories, or because they bore the Cross upon
their shoulders. We have, on the other hand, endea-
voured to show them as they were — men and women
actuated by mixed motives, sometimes base, sometimes
noble, sometimes interested, sometimes pure and lofty,j
but always men and women, never saints. The Chris-
tians in the East were as the Christians in the West,
certainly never better, more often worse. If we have
succeeded in making a plain tale, divested of it
customary pseudo-religious trappings, interesting and
useful, our design is accomplished.
One word more. There may be found, owing to thej
double source from which our pages are derived, cer
tain small discrepancies in the narrative. We hav
not cared to try and reconcile these. Let it be remem
bered that the one narrative is Christian, the othe
Mohammedan.
W. B.
October, 1871.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
NTRODUCTORY ------- i
CHAPTER II.
?he Siege of Jerusalem r - - - -21
CHAPTER III.
^rom Titus to Omar - - - - - 52
CHAPTER IV.
rHE Mohammedan Conquest - - - -73
CHAPTER V.
rHE Christian Pilgrims - - - - - 123
CHAPTER VI.
11
f"HE First Crusade - - - - - - 155
CHAPTER VII.
he Christian Kingdom. — King Godfrey - - 210
CHAPTER VIII.
ing Baldwin I. - - - - - 234
CHAPTER IX.
Ling Baldwin II. - - - - 262
I
xiv CONTENTS. j
CHAPTER X.
PAGE.
King Fulke ------- 287,
CHAPTER XI..
King Baldwin III. and the Second Great Crusade - 298I
CHAPTER XII.
King Amaury - - - - - - - 33 2
CHAPTER XIII.
King Baldwin the Leper - - - - -373
CHAPTER XIV.
King Guy de Lusignan - - - - - 383
CHAPTER XV.
Richard Cceur de Lion and the Third Crusade - 404
CHAPTER XVI.
Saladin ------- 416
CHAPTER XVII.
The Mohammedan Pilgrims - - - - 466
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Chronicle of Six Hundred Years - - - 495
Index - - - - - - - - 5 22
JERUSALEM.
THE CITY OF HEROD AND SALADIN
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
It is our object to write a book which may serve as
an historical account, complete so far as it goes, of the
principal events with which Jerusalem is concerned,
from the time when its history, as connected with the
Bible, ceases, till the present ; that is to say, from the
year a.d. 33 downwards. But it is difficult to take up
the thread of the story at this date, and we are forced
either to go as far back as Herod the Great, or to begin
our narrative with the events which preceded the siege
of Jerusalem by Titus. No date seems to us more
ready to our hand than that of the death of Herod
Agrippa. Even then we may seem beginning to tell a
thrice-told tale. The revolt of the Jews, their defeat of
Cestius, the siege of Titus, are surely, it may be objected,
too well known to require telling again. They are not
well known, though they have been told again and again.
But they are told here again because our central figure is
1
JERUSALEM.
Jerusalem. We have to show her first, in all her pride,
the joy of the Jews, the visible mark of their greatness ;
and then we have to follow her through two thousand
years of varying fortune, always before the eyes of the
world — always the object of tender pity and reverence
— always the centre of some conflict, the scene of some
religious contention. Frequent as were the sieges of
the city in the olden days, they have been more fre-
quent since. Titus took Jerusalem, Barcochebas took
it, Julius Severus took it, Chosroes, Heraclius, Omar,
the Charezmians, Godfrey, Saladin, Frederick, all took
it by turns — all after hard fighting, and with much
slaughter.
There is not a stone in the city but has been
reddened with human blood ; not a spot but where
some hand-to-hand conflict has taken place : not an
old wall but has echoed back the shrieks of despairing
women. Jew, Pagan, Christian, Mohammedan, each
has had his turn of triumph, occupation, and defeat ;
and were all those ancient cemeteries outside the city
emptied of their bones, it would be hard to tell whether
Jew, or Pagan, or Christian, or Mohammedan would
prevail. For Jerusalem has been the representative
sacred place of the world ; there has been none other
like unto it, or equal to it, or shall be, while the world
lasts ; so long as men go on believing that one spot in
the world is more sacred than another, because things
of sacred interest have been done there, so long Jeru
salem will continue the Holy City. That this beliei
has been one of the misfortunes of the human race,:
one of the foremost causes of superstition, some o
the pages which follow may perhaps help to show
But, in our capacity as narrators only, let us agree t
think and talk of the city apart, as much as may bei
JUDAS THE GALILEAN.
from its sacred associations, as well as from its ecclesi-
astical history.
The fatal revolt of the Jews, which ended in the fall
of their city and th^~o^esTnIcfion of theirj emple j was
due, among manyoth er causes, to the teaching of
Judas th e Galilaean acting^on mm^snnflaterf with pride
in the exaggeratedglories ot the^astT^'tooking to *
nationaT^Th^epeil^eTicT^^trre^one tlrirrg~-needful, and )
wholly ignorant of the power and resources of the )
mighty empire which held them in subjection. Judas, ^
himself in spirit a worthy descendant of the Macca-
bseans, had taught that Jehovah was the only king of
the Jews, who were His chosen people ; that submission
to a foreign yoke involved not only national degrada-
tion, but treason to the lawful powers ; that tribute,
the badge and sign of slavery, ought to be refused
at any cost. * We have no Lord and master but
God,' was the cry of his party. With that cry he and
his followers assembled to do battle against the world :
with that cry on their lips they died. But the cry and
its idea did not die ; for from that time a fourth sect
was among the Jews, more powerful than all the rest
put together, containing the great mass of the people
who had no education to give them common sense, and
whose ignorance added fuel to the flames of a religious
enthusiasm almost without parallel in the history of the
world. The Pharisees and the Sadducees still con-
tinued for a time in the high places : the Essenes still
lived and died apart from the world, the Shakers of
their time, a small band with no power or influence ;
but all around them was rising a tide destined to whelm
all beneath the waves of fanaticism. The followers of
Judas became the Zealots and the Sicarii of later times:
they were those who looked daily for the Messiah ;
I — 2
JERUSALEM.
whom false Christs led astray by thousands; who
thought no act too daring to be attempted in tins \
.acred cause, no life too valuable to be sacrificed i they t
were those who let their countrymen die of starvation j
by thousands while they maintained a hopeless struggle U
with Titus. ,
When Herod Agrippa died, his son, who was only
seventeen vears of age, was in Rome ; and, as he was
too young to be entrusted with the conduct 01 the
turbulent province of Juda.a, Cuspius Fadus was sent
there as Governor. He found that Agrippa had allowed
the robbers who always infested the country east of
Jordan to gain head. He put them down with a strong
arm, and turned his attention to things of domestic
importance. By the permission of Vitellines, the custody
of the sacred robes had been surrendered to the High
Priest Cuspius Fadus ordered that they should be
restored to the fortress of Antonia. The Jews ap-
pealed to Caesar, and, by the intercession of young
Agrippa, they carried their point, and retained the
possession of the robes. Under Fadus one Thendas
whom Josephus calls a magician, persuaded muhnudes
of the Jews to go with him to the Jordan, which he
pretended would open its waters to let him pass.
Cuspius Fadus sent out a troop of cavalry, who tool
Theudas alive, cut off his head, and brought it t
Terusalem. Under Cuspius, too, occurred a grea
famine in Judsa, which was relieved by the generosit
of Queen Helena of Adiabene, the proselyte
When Fadus either died or was recalled, Tibern
Alexander, a renegade Jew, nephew of Philo, succeeds
* The story of Queen Helena is told by Josephus, ' Annq.^
2 3, 4, and in Milman, ' Hist, of the Jews, n., P. 20c ., and see a
for the whole of this period, Williams's ' Holy C.ty, vol. .., p.
et seq.
CUMANUS. 5
him for a short time. It is not stated how long he
continued in power. His only recorded act is the
crucifixion of two of the sons of Judas the Galilaean.
In his turn Tiberius was replaced by Ventidius Cumanus,
and the first symptoms of the approaching madness
broke out. The fortress of Antonia commanded the
Temple area, and communicated with the Temple
itself by means of cloisters. On those days of public
festivals when the fanaticism of the people was most
likely to break out and cause mischief, a strong guard
was always placed in Antonia, in full view of the people,
to overawe them into good behaviour. Most unfor-
tunately, on one occasion, immediately after the arrival
of Cumanus, one of the soldiers of the guard expressed
his contempt for the religious ceremonies by an indecent
gesture. The rage of the people knew no bounds ;
they declared that Cumanus had himself ordered the
affront to be committed. The governor bore their
reproaches with patience, only urging them not to
disturb their festival by riotous conduct. As, however,
they still continued clamouring, he ordered his whole
garrison to proceed to Antonia. Then a panic ensued.
The mob, thinking they were about to be attacked by
the soldiers, turned and fled, trampling on each other
in the narrow passages. Many thousands perished in
this way, without a blow being struck. And while they
were still mourning over this disaster, another happened
to them. Some of the very men who had raised the
first tumult, probably countrymen on their way home,
1 uell on and robbed Stephanus, a slave of the Emperor.
M3umanus, obliged to punish this, sent soldiers to bring
'4n the chief men of the village. One of the soldiers
1; ore up a book of the Law with abuse and scurrility,
lie Jews came to Cumanus, and represented that
it\
JERUSALEM.
they could not possibly endure such an insult to
their God. Cumanus appeased them for the time
by beheading the soldier who had been guilt) 7 of the
offence.
The animosities of the Samaritans and the Jews
were the cause of the next disturbance. The Galilaeans
always used the roads which passed through the Sama-
ritan territory in their journeys to and from the Temple.
Faction fights naturally often took place. In one of
these, of greater magnitude than the generality, a good
many Galilseans were killed : the Jews came to Cumanus
and complained of what they were pleased to call
murder. Cumanus took the part of the Samaritans,
and actually went to their aid, after the Jews called in
the assistance of a robber chieftain, and helped them
to defeat the Galilseans. It is difficult to see what
else they could do. Both parties appealed to Caesar.
Cumanus was recalled : his military tribune was be-
headed, decision was given in favour of the Jews : all I
this, no doubt, was done with a full knowledge of the I
dangerous and the turbulent nature of the people, and \
with a view to preserving the peace.
Claudius Felix was sent in place of Cumanus, a
freedman, brother of Pallas the favourite of the
Emperor — magnificent, prodigal, luxurious, and un-
scrupulous. He found the country in the worst state
possible, full of robbers and impostors. These sprung
up every day, and were every day caught and destroyed ; k
no doubt most of them men whose wits were utterly [
gone in looking for the Messiah, until they ended in
believing themselves to be the Messiah. These poor
creatures, followed by a rabble more ignorant and
more mad than themselves, went up and down the
distracted country, raising hopes which were doomed
tf
CLA UDIUS FELIX.
to disappointment, and leading out the wild country-
men to meet death and torture when they looked for
glory and victory. One of the impostors, an Egyptian,
probably an Egyptian Jew, brought a multitude up to
the Mount of Olives, promising that at his word the
walls of the city should fall down, and they themselves
march in triumphant. He came ; but instead of see-
ing the walls fall down, he met the troops of Felix, who
dispersed his people, slaying four hundred of them.
To Felix belongs the crime of introducing the Sicarii
into the city of Jerusalem. Wearied with the impor-
tunities of the high priest, Jonathan, who exhorted
him continually to govern better, or at all events to
govern differently, and reproached him with the fact
hat it was through his own influence that Felix ob-
ained his office, he resolved to rid himself of a friend
o troublesome by the speediest and surest method,
iat of assassination. The Sicarii were not, like the
jired bravoes of the Middle Ages, men who would
]|>mmit any murder for which they were paid. It
•pears, on the contrary, that they held it a cardinal
ant of faith to murder those, and only those, who
2med to stand in the way of their cause. Now their
ise was that of the sect which had grown out of
ias's teaching, the zealots. These Sicarii, mingling
.h the crowd of those who went up to worship, and
I; tying daggers concealed under their garments, fell
v n Jonathan the high priest, and murdered him*
n s done, they went on slaying all those who were
* oxious to them, even in the Temple itself. < And
id ' says the historian, ' seems to me the reason whv
i fr from fh yS ^^ ^ W ?t in V he Tem P le itseIf < which d °es not
Ihev TJ tL aC vf °T 0f J° se P h "s, who expressly says that, after
hey had the boldness to murder men in the Temple itself.
JERUSALEM.
God, out of His hatred to the wickedness of these men,
rejected our city: and as for the Temple, He no longer
esteemed it sufficiently pure for Him to inhabit therein,
but brought the Romans upon us, and threw a fire
upon the city to purge it ; and brought upon us, our
wives and children, slavery — as desirous to make us
wiser by our calamities.' And now the voice of discord
was heard even among the priests themselves, who had
hitherto preserved a certain sobriety. Between the
chief priests and ' the principal men of the multitude
of Jerusalem,' a feud broke out. Each side had its
followers : they cast, we are told, not only reproachful
words, but also stones at each other. And the chief
priests, robbing the threshing-floors and appropriating
all the tithes to themselves, caused many of the poorer
priests to die of want.
Then occurred the first outbreak in Caesarea. This
town was about equally divided between the Syrians
and the Jews ; the former claimed the pre-eminence
on the ground that Herod, the founder, though himself
a Jew, had built the splendid temples and statues by
which the city was evidently intended to be a Grecian
city, upon the site of Strato's Tower ; while the Jews
argued that as the founder was a Jew, the city was
evidently Jewish, and ought not to be ruled except by
Jews. The dispute, as was always the case, came to
the arbitrament of arms, in which the Jews got the
best of it. Then Felix came himself, with a strong
force, and brought them to their senses. But as the
dispute still went on, he sent representatives on both
sides to Nero the Emperor, who ruled in favour of the
Greeks or Syrians. Here, the decision of the Emperor
appears to have been just. Herod, the founder of
Caesarea, had clearly not intended to found a city for
OUTBREAK AT C/ESAREA.
the further propagation of a sect to which he indeed
belonged, regarding it, nevertheless, with the toleration
of a cultivated Roman, as only one sect out of many.
The Jews accepted the decision in their usual way :
they only became more turbulent. Agrippa's own
dispute with his own countrymen was decided, how-
ever, in their favour, no doubt from politic considera-
tions. He had built an upper room in his palace,
where, lying on his couch, he could look over into the
Temple and watch the sacrifices. Some of the priests,
discovering this, made out that it was an intrusion
into the necessary privacy of their religious ceremonies,
and hastily ran up a wall to prevent being overlooked.
Festus, who had now succeeded Felix, ordered it to be
pulled down ; but, most probably at the instigation of
Agrippa, whose popularity might be at stake, he gave
permission to appeal to Nero. Ismael, the high priest,
went, accompanied by the keeper of the Treasury.
They carried their point : the wall was allowed to
stand, but Ismael was detained in Rome, and Agrippa
appointed and deprived three high priests in succession
— Joseph, Annas, and Jesus son of Damai. The firm,
strong hand of Festus was meantime employed in
putting down robbers, and regulating the disturbances
of the country. Unhappily for the Jews, while he was
so engaged, he was seized with some illness and died.
Albinus succeeded him. As for Albinus, Josephus tells
us that there was no sort of wickedness named but he
had a hand in it. ' Not only did he steal and plunder
everyone's substance, not only did he burden the
whole nation with taxes, but he permitted the relations
}f such as were in prison for robbery to redeem them
or money ; and nobody remained in the prisons as a
nalefactor but he who gave him nothing The
io JERUSALEM.
principal men among the seditious purchased leave of
Albinus to go on with their practices : and everyone of
these wretches was encompassed with his own band of
robbers. Those who lost their goods were forced to
hold their peace, when they had reason to show great
indignation at what they had suffered ; those who had
escaped were forced to flatter him, that deserved to be
punished, out of the fear they were in of suffering
equally with the others.'
This, however, is a vague accusation, and is found in
the ' Wars of the Jews,' where Josephus is anxious to
represent the revolt of the people as caused by the bad
government of the Romans. From the 'Antiquities'
we learn that it was Albinus's wish to keep the country
in peace, with which object he destroyed many of the
Sicarii. Unfortunately for himself, he formed a great
friendship with Ananias the high priest ; and when
Eleazar, son of Ananias, fell into the hands of the
Sicarii, he consented to release ten of his own prisoners
for his ransom. This was a fatal measure, because
henceforth the Sicarii, if one of their number fell
into trouble, and got taken by the Romans, caught a
Jew and effected an exchange. Thus the prisons were
emptied.
At this time the Temple was finished, and eighteen
thousand workmen found themselves suddenly out oi
employment. Terrified at the prospect of this starving
mob being added to their difficulties (for the streets oi
Jerusalem were already filled with bands of armed men
partisans of deposed high priests), the citizens asked
Agrippa to rebuild the Eastern Cloisters, the splendic
piece of work which had been built originally bj
Solomon along that east wall which still stands over-
looking the valley of the Kedron. But Agrippa, whose
MM* (OT OTM&
WITH CRUSADING NAMES
ABOUT 1180 A.D.
Scale of Miles
East of Greenwich
GESSIUS FLORUS. u
interest in the turbulent city was very small, already
meditated departure to some safer quarter, and was
spending all the money he had to spare at Beyrout,
where he built a theatre, and collected a gallery of
sculptures. But he conceded something to his
petitioners, and allowed them to pave the city with
stone.
Albinus disappears from the history, and Gessius
Florus, who exchanged a scourging with whips for a
scourging with scorpions, ruled in his place. Cestius
Gallus, a man of equal rapacity with himself, ruled in
Syria. One cannot read Josephus without, in the first
place, suspecting that he wilfully exaggerates the wicked-
ness of the Roman rulers ; that he does so in the case
of Albinus is clear, as we have shown from comparing
the account given in the ' Antiquities ' with that given
in the ' Wars.' But even if he only exaggerates, and
making allowance for this, were men of special in-
humanity and rapacity chosen for those very qualities
to rule the country ? And if not, if Gessius Florus and
Albinus be fair specimens of the officers by whom Rome
ruled her provinces and colonies, by what mys-
terious power was this vast empire kept from universal
revolt ?
' Upon what meat had this their Caesar fed,
That he was grown so great ?'
The Jews, however, were not the people to brook ill-
treatment ; and when they took arms against the
Romans it was not as if their case seemed to themselves
hopeless. They had, it is true, the western world
igainst them ; but they had the eastern world behind
:hem, a possible place of refuge. And though they
Trmed against the whole Roman Empire, it must be
remembered that the forces at the command of the
JERUSALEM.
Emperor were not overwhelming ; that they were
spread over Africa, Egypt, Spain, Gaul, Britain,
Greece, and Italy ; that only a certain number could
be spared ; and that the number of the Jews in
Syria amounted probably to several millions. When I
Cestius Gallus was in Jerusalem at the time of the
Passover he ordered the lambs which were sacrificed to
be counted. They came to two hundred and fifty-five
thousand six hundred. It was reckoned that this
represented a total of three millions present in Jerusalem ]
and camped round about it, assisting at the festival.
Probably not more than half, perhaps not more than a
quarter, of the whole number of the people came up.
However this may be, it is certain that Palestine was
very densely populated ; that there were great numbers
of Jews in Alexandria, Asia Minor, and Italy ; that at
any signal success those would have flocked to the
standard of revolt ; and that had the nation been
unanimous and obedient to one general, instead ofj
being divided into sects, parties, and factions, the
armies of Vespasian and Titus would have been wholly
unable to cope with the rebellion, and the independence
of the Jews would have been prevented only by putting
forth all the power of the Roman Empire. This was
shown later on in the revolt of Barcochebas, a far
more serious revolt than this of the zealots, though
not so well known, because it was attended with no
such signal result as the destruction of the Temple, and
because there was no Josephus in the camp of the J
enemy taking notes of what went on.
The object of Florus, we are told, was to drive the
people to revolt. This we do not believe. It could
not have been the policy of Florus to drive into revolt a
dangerous and stubborn people, whose character was
FLORUS. 13
well known at Rome, whom the Emperor had always
3een anxious to conciliate. His object may have been,
andoubtedly was, to enrich himself as speedily as
Dossible, knowing that revolt was impending and in-
evitable, and anxious to secure for himself a provision
n case of his own recall or banishment. Until that
provision was secured, it would have been fatal for
Florus that the revolt should break out.
The first disturbances took place at Csesarea, when
:he Greeks, exulting in Nero's decision, were daily more
ind more insulting to the Jews. The latter had a
synagogue, round which was an open space of ground
which they wished to purchase. The owner refused to
sell it, and built mean shops upon it, leaving only a
rarrow passage whereby the Jews could pass to their
Dlace of worship. One John, a publican, went to
Florus, and begged him to interfere, offering at the
same time a bribe of eight talents, an enormous sum,
which shows that this was more than an ordinary
squabble. Florus went away, leaving them to fight it
:>ut ; and the Greeks added fresh matter of wrath to
:he Jews by ostentatiously sacrificing birds in an
earthen vase as they passed to the synagogue. The
significance of this act was that the Greeks loved to
ell how the Jews had been all expelled from Egypt, on
iccount of their being leprous. Arms were taken up,
md the Jews got the worst of the fray. They with-
irew to a place some miles from the town, and sent
jfohn to Florus to ask for assistance. John ventured
)n a reminder about the eight talents, and was re-
warded by being thrown into prison. Then Florus
vent on to Jerusalem, where the wildest tumults raged
n consequence of this affront to religion. Alarmed at
:he symptoms of revolt, he sent messengers beforehand
i 4 JERUSALEM.
to take seventeen talents out of the sacred treasury,^
on the ground that Caesar wanted them. Then the
people ran to the Temple, and called upon Caesar by !il
name, as if he could hear them, to rid them of this^ u
Florus. Some of them went about with baskets
begging money for him as for a man in a destitute and
miserable condition.
The next day news came that Florus was advancing toj er
the city, and the people thought they had better go out
and speak him fair. But he was not disposed to receive
their salutation, and so sent on Capito, a centurion, with
fifty soldiers, bidding them go back and not pretend to
receive him as if they were delighted to see him among n
them again. And he rode into the city, the people being )C
all expectation of what would happen the next dayi > c
And in the morning the tribunal of Florus was erected
before the gates of his palace. The high priest was J
summoned to attend, and ordered to give up those whc
had led the tumult. He urged in extenuation that he
did not know the ringleaders, that the act of a few hot- !D:
headed youths ought not to be visited on the whole li:
city, and that, in short, he was very sorry for the whole J tl
business, and hoped Florus would overlook it. Florus., f
in reply, ordered his soldiers to pillage the uppei
market ; they did so, scourging, pillaging, and murder
ing. Berenice, the sister of Agrippa, came herself
barefoot, with shorn head and penitential dress
before Florus, urging him to have pity. But the inex
orable Roman, bent on revenge, allowed the soldiers td
go on.
Next day he sent again for the high priest, and tolc
him that as a sign of the loyalty of the people, and theij F
sorrow for the late tumults, he should expect them tc l:
go forth and meet the two cohorts who were advanc
FLORUS. 15
[g to Jerusalem with every sign of joy. The seditious
irt of the citizens refused. Then the chief priests,
ith dust upon their heads and rent garments, brought
it the holy vessels and the sacerdotal robes, with the
arpers and their harps, and implored the people not to
sk a collision with the Romans. They yielded, and
ent out to welcome the cohorts. But the soldiers pre-
srved a gloomy silence. Then some of the more fiery
ews, turning on the Romans, began to abuse Florus.
'he horsemen rode at them and trampled them down,
nd a scene of the wildest uproar took place at the gates
5 they pressed and jostled each other to get in. Then
le troops marched straight on Antonia, hoping to get
oth the fortress and the Temple into their hands. They
ot into Antonia, when the Jews cut down some part of
le cloisters which connected the fort with the Temple.
lorus tried to join them, but his men could not pass
irough the streets, which were crammed with Jews.
nd next day Florus retired to Caesarea, leaving only
ne cohort behind, and the city boiling and seething
ith rage and madness. And now, indeed, there was
ttle hope of any reconciliation. Both Florus and the
ews sent statements of their conduct to Cestius Gallus,
ad begged for an investigation. And it must have
een now, if at all, that Florus became desirous of
inning the embers of discontent into a flame, and
laking that a war which had only promised to be a
isturbance. But nothing can be discovered to prove
lat Josephus's assertion as to his motives is based on
Let. It is easy, of course, to attribute motives, but
ard to prove them. Nothing advanced by Josephus
roves more than that Florus was rapacious and cruel,
nd the people discontented and turbulent. Cestius
jnt Neapolitanus, one of his officers, to report on the
1 6 JERUSALEM.
d
condition of the city. Agrippa joined him. Th
people came sixty furlongs out of the town to meet 4
them, crying and lamenting, calling on Agrippa to helpj
them in their misery, and beseeching Neapolitanus to
hear their complaints against Florus. The latter theyj)
took all round the city, showing him that it was per
fectly quiet, and that the people had risen, not against
the Romans, but against Florus. Then Neapolitanusj
went into the Temple to perform such sacrifices as D
were allowed to strangers, and commending the Jews
for their fidelity, went back to Cestius. Agrippa came
next. Placing his sister Berenice, doubtless a favourite |
with the people, in the gallery with him, he made
long harangue. He implored them to consider the
vast power of the Romans, and not, for the sake oi
a quarrel with one governor, to bring upon themselves
the ruin of themselves, their families, and their nation
He pointed out that if they would have patience the
state of their country should be fairly placed before the
Emperor's consideration, and he pledged himself tha
it would receive his best care. ' Have pity,' he con
eluded, with a burst of tears, — * have pity on you]
children and your wives ; have pity upon this your crh
and its holy walls, and spare the Temple ; preserve th(
Holy House for yourselves.'
The Jews, ever an impressionable race, yielded t(
the entreaties of Agrippa and the tears of Berenice
and making up the tribute money, paid it into th
treasury. Then they began to repair the damage the;
had done to Antonia. All looked well ; but there wa
one thing yet wanting to complete their submission
they were to obey Florus till he should be removed
This condition they refused to comply with, and whe]
Agrippa urged it upon them, they threw stones at him
THE INSURRECTION. 17
nd reproached him with the uttermost bitterness,
"hen Agrippa went away in despair, taking with him
Berenice, and leaving the city to its fate.
The insurrection began, as it ended, with the taking
f the strong fortress of Masada near the Dead Sea.
lere the Roman garrison were all slaughtered. Eleazar
tie son of Ananias the high priest began the insurrec-
ion in Jerusalem, by passing a law that the sacrifices
f strangers were henceforth to be forbidden, and no
nperial gifts to be offered. The moderate party used
11 their influence, but in vain, to prevent this. Agrippa
ent a small army of three thousand men to help the
loderates. The insurgents seized the Temple : the
loderates, who included all the wealthy classes, occu-
ied the Upper City, and hostilities commenced. A great
ccession of strength to the insurgents was caused by
le burning of the public archives, where all debts were
nrolled, and consequently the power of the rich was
iken from them at one blow.
Then appeared on the scene another leader, for a very
rief interval, Manahem, the youngest son of Judas the
■alilaean. He came dressed in royal robes and sur-
)unded with guards, no doubt eager to play the part
f another Maccabaeus. The insurgents took Antonia
id the royal palace, and drove the Roman garrison to
le three strong towns of Hippicus, Phasaelus, and
[ariamne. Ananias, found hidden in an aqueduct,
as killed at once ; and Manahem became so puffed
3 with his success that he became intolerable. It
as easy to get rid of this mushroom king, who was
^posed without any trouble by Eleazar and tortured to
iath. And then the Roman garrison yielded, Metilius,
>eir commander, stipulating only for the lives of his
•ldiers. This was granted; but no sooner had they
2
1 8 JERUSALEM.
laid down their arms than the Jews fell upon them,
vainly calling on the faith of a treaty, and murdered
them all except Metilius. Him they spared on condi-
tion of his becoming a proselyte.
On that very day and hour, while the Jews were
plunging their daggers in the hearts of the Romans, a :
great and terrible slaughter of their own people was
going on in Csesarea, where the Syrians and Greeks
had risen upon the Jews, and massacred twenty thou
sand of them in a single day. And in every Syrian cityj
the same madness and hatred seized the people, and
the Jews were ruthlessly slaughtered in all. No morej
provocation was needed ; no more was possible. In
spite of all their turbulence, their ungovernable ob
stinacy, their fanaticism and pride, which made the
war inevitable, and in the then state of mankind
these very massacres inevitable, one feels a profound
sympathy with the people who dared to fight and die,
seeing that it was hopeless to look for better things
The heads of the people began the war with gloomy
forebodings ; the common masses with the wildest
enthusiasm, which became the mere intoxication of
success when they drove back Cestius from the walls
of the city, on the very eve of his anticipated victory
for Cestius hastened southwards with an army of twenty
thousand men, and besieged the city. The people;
divided amongst themselves, were on the point oi
opening the gates to the Romans, when, to the surpris
of everybody, Cestius suddenly broke up his camp anc
began to retreat. Why he did so, no one ever knew
possessed by a divine madness, Josephus thinks
though God would take no pity on the city and the|
Sanctuary. As the heavy-armed Romans plodded or}
their way in serried ranks, they were followed by ai
VESPASIAN IN GALILEE.
ountless multitude, gathering in numbers every hour,
mo assailed them with darts, with stones, and with
isults. The retreat became a flight, and Cestius
rought back his army with a quarter of its numbers
illed, having allowed the Roman arms to receive the
lost terrible disgrace they had ever endured in the
test.
Vespasian was sent hastily with a force of three
jgions besides the cohorts of auxiliaries. A finer army
ad never been put into the field, nor did any army have
ver harder work before them. Of the first campaign,
hat in Galilee, our limits will not allow us to write. In
he graphic pages of Josephus, himself the hero of
otapata, or in the still more graphic pages of Milman,
lay be read how the Jews fought, step by step, bring-
ig to their defence not only the most dogged courage,
ut also the most ingenious devices; how the blue
faves of the Lake of Galilee were reddened with the
lood of those whom the Romans killed in their boats ;
ow Vespasian broke his word and sold as slaves those
e had promised to pardon ; how Gamala fought and
xischala fell, and how, for the sins of the people, John
'as permitted by Heaven to escape and become the
yrant of Jerusalem.
The months passed on, and yet the Romans appeared
ot before the walls of the city. This meantime was
prey to internal evils, which when read appear almost
lcredible. The bold rough country folk who followed
ohn, who had fought in Galilee, and escaped the
aughter of Vespasian, came up to the city filled with
ne idea, that of resistance. In their eyes a Moderate,
Romanizer, was an enemy worse than a Roman, for
\ was a traitor to the country. They found themselves
\ a rich and luxurious town, filled with things of which
2 — 2
2o JERUSALEM.
in their distant homes they had had no idea. An
these things all belonged to the Romanizers. They,
needed little permission to pillage, less to murder the
men who had everything to lose, and nothing to gain,
by continuing the war. And then ensued a civil war,l
the scenes of which surpass in horror those of any
other page in history. Through the streets ran th
zealots dressed in fantastic garb, which they ha
pillaged, some of them attired as women, murdering al
the rich and those who were obnoxious to their party
It is vain to follow their course of plunder, murder, an
sedition. They invited the Idumaeans to come to their
assistance — a fierce and warlike race, who had been al'j
Judaized since the time of Hyrcanus. These gladly came'
By night, while a dreadful tempest raged overhead,
sign of God's wrath, and amid the shrieks of wounde
men and despairing women, the Idumaeans attacke
and gained possession of the Temple, and when th
day dawned eight thousand bodies lay piled within th
sacred area. Among them were those of Ananus, an
Jesus the son of Gamala, the high priests. Strippe
naked, their corpses were thrown out to the dogs, anc
it was forbidden even to bury them. Simon Ba
Gioras, who had first signalized himself in the defeat o
Cestius, came to the city to add one more to th
factions. The moderate party were stamped out an
exterminated, and the city divided between John an
Simon, who fought incessantly till Titus's legion
appeared before the walls.
CHAPTER II.
THE SIEGE OF JERUSALEM.
Bella, sublimis, inclyta divitiis,
Olim fuisti celsa sedificiis,
Moenibus clara, sed magis innumerum
Civium turmis.
he events at Rome which elevated Vespasian to the
irone were the principal reasons that the siege of
erusalem was not actually commenced till the early
ummer of the year 70, when, in April, Titus began his
narch from Caesarea. His army consisted of four
2gions : the 5th, under Sextus Cerealis ; the 10th,
nder Lartius Lepidus ; the 12th, that which had
uffered defeat under Cestius, and was still in disgrace,
nd the 15th. Besides this formidable force of regulars,
t e had a very large number of auxiliaries. The exact
umber of his troops is not easy to estimate. We may
t once put aside, as clearly below the mark, the
stimate which puts Titus's army at thirty thousand ;
Dr if we agree in accepting Josephus's statement* with
* Let us take the opportunity of stating our opinion that Jose-
hus's testimony may generally be relied upon. It was for a long
me the fashion to hold up his exaggerations to ridicule. Thus,
hen he spoke of the height of the wall as being such as to make
le head reel, travellers remembered the fifty feet of wall or so at
\e present day and laughed. But Sir Charles Warren found that
le wall was in parts as much as 200 feet high. Surely a man may
e excused for feeling giddy at looking down a depth of 200 feet,
/henever Josephus speaks from personal knowledge, he appears
22 JERUSALEM.
regard to Vespasian's army in the year 67, it consisted
of sixty thousand, including the auxiliaries. The
campaign in Galilee cost him a few, but not many,
killed in the sieges. We may deduct a small number,
too, but not many, for garrison work, for the conquest
of the country had been, after the usual Roman fashion,
thorough and complete. Not only were the people
defeated, but they were slaughtered. Not only was
their spirit crushed, but their powers of making even
the feeblest resistance were taken away from them ;*j
and all those who were yet desirous of carrying on the I
war, those of the fanatics who escaped the sword of'
Vespasian, had fled to Jerusalem to fall by the sword of
Titus. A very small garrison would be required for
Galilee and Samaria, and we may be very sure that the
large army which was with Vespasian in 67 nearly all
followed Titus in 70. The legions had been filled up,
and new auxiliaries had arrived. t Besides these,
Josephus expressly says that the army of Vespasian,
and therefore that of Titus, was accompanied by
servants^ ' in vast numbers, who, because they had
been trained up in war with the rest, ought not to be
distinguished from the fighting men : for, as they were
to us to be accurate and trustworthy. There is nothing on which
he could speak with greater authority, which would sooner have
been discovered, than a misstatement as regards the Roman army.
* Milman gives a list of the losses of the Jews in this war com-
piled from the numbers given by Josephus. It amounts to more
than three millions. Deductions must, of course, be made.
t No argument ought to be founded on the supposed numbers of
the legions. The number ge?ierally composing a legion in the time
of the Empire was 6000, and before the Empire, was 4000. But at
Pharsalia Caesar's legions were only 2000 each, while Pompey's were
7000.
% It is very curious that these 'servants' are not mentioned
either by Mr. Lewin or Mr. Fergusson. Mr. Williams puts down
the number of the legions at 10,000 each, perhaps including the
servants.
CIVIL DISSENSIONS. 23
in their master's service in times of peace, so did they
undergo the like danger with them in time of war,
tiisomuch that they were inferior to none either in
skill or in strength, only they were subject to their
masters.'
It is not easy to make any kind of estimate of the
number of these servants. Perhaps, however, we shall
be within the mark if we put down the whole number
of forces under Titus's command at something like
eighty thousand — an army which was greatly superior
in numbers to that of the besieged. It was also fully
provided and equipped with military engines, provisions
and material of all kinds. It marched, without meet-
ing any enemy, from Csesarea to Jerusalem, where it
(arrived on the nth of April.*
The city, meanwhile, had been continuing those civil
dissensions which hastened its ruin. John, Simon Bar
Gioras, and Eleazar, each at the head of his own
faction, made the streets run with blood. John, whose
followers numbered six thousand, held the Lower, New,
&nd Middle City ; Simon, at the head of ten thousand
ews and five thousand Idumaeans, had the strong post
of the Upper City, with a portion of the third wall ;
Eleazar, with two thousand zealots, more frantic than
(the rest, had barricaded himself within the Temple
itself. There they admitted, it is true, unarmed
worshippers, but kept out the rest. The stores of the
Temple provided them with abundance of provisions,
land while the rest of the soldiers were starving, those
who were within the Temple wallst were well fed and
n good case. This was, however, the only advantage
* The dates of the siege are all taken from Professor Willis's
'Journal,' given in Williams's ' Holy City,' vol. i., p. 478.
t After Eleazar had succumbed to John.
24 JERUSALEM.
which Eleazar possessed over the rest. Their position,
cooped up in a narrow fortress — for such the Temple.'
was — and exposed to a constant shower of darts, stone. .
and missiles of all sorts, from John's men, was miser-
able enough. John and Simon fought with each other
in the lower ground, the valley of the Tyropoeon, which'
lay between the Temple and Mount Zion. Here were
stored up supplies of corn sufficient, it is said, for)
many years. But in the sallies which John and Simori
made upon each other all the buildings in this part of
the town were destroyed or set on fire, and all their 1 "
corn burned ; so that famine had actually begun before
the commencement of the siege.
' And now,' to quote the words of the historian,
1 the people of the city were like a great body torn in
pieces. The aged men and the women were in such
distress by their internal calamities that they wished
for the Romans, and earnestly hoped for an external
war, in order to deliver them from their domestic
miseries. The citizens themselves were under a terrible
consternation and fear ; nor had they any opportunity
of taking counsel and of changing their conduct ; nor
were there any hopes of coming to an agreement with
their enemies ; nor could such as wished to do so flee
away, for guards were set at all places, and the chiefs
of the robbers agreed in killing those who wished for
peace with the Romans.'
Day and night, he goes on to tell us, the wretched
inhabitants were harassed with the shouts of those who
fought, and the lamentations of those who mourned,
until, through the overwhelming fear, every one for
himself, relations ceased to care for each other, the
living ceased to mourn for the dead, and those who
were not among the defenders of the walls ceased to
POPULATION. 25
tare for anything or to look for anything except for
speedy destruction ; and this even before the siege
:>egan.
And yet, with the city in this miserable and wretched
condition, with the certain knowledge that the Romans
were coming, the usual crowds of Jews and Idumaeans
rflocked to the city to keep the feast of the Passover.
Their profound faith was proof against every disaster.
That the Temple should actually fall, actually be de-
stroyed, seems never even to have entered into their
heads; and there can be little doubt that the rude,
rough country people, coming to keep the Passover
with their wives and children, were filled with a wild
hope that the God of Joshua was about to work some
signal deliverance for them. The population thus
crowded into the city is estimated by Tacitus at six
hundred thousand ; by Josephus at more than double
that number. There are reasons for believing the
number at least as great as that stated by Tacitus. A
register of the buried had been kept in the city, and
the registrar of one gate, out of which the dead were
thrown, gave Josephus a note of his numbers. The
historian conversed with those who escaped. A list of
the captives would be, no doubt, made — the Romans
were not in the habit of doing things carelessly, even
after a great victory — and would be accessible to
Josephus. So far as these go we ought to allow
Josephus's right to the consideration due to an eye-
witness ; and it seems to us absolutely unwarranted by
any historical or other arguments, to put down, as has
been done, the population of this city during the siege
at sixty or seventy thousand.* This was doubtless
something like the ordinary population ; but it was
* Fergusson's Art. 'Jerusalem,' Biblical Dictionary.
26 JERUSALEM.
swelled tenfold and twentyfold by the crowds of those
who came yearly to keep the feast. Again, the argu-
ment based by Mr. Fergusson on the area of the cit\(
fails for the simple reason that it is founded on wrong
calculations* as to the number of square yards. More-I
over, it seems to assume the besieged to have been al|
comfortably lodged ; it ignores altogether the estimate^
taken by Cestius ; while, if the numbers adopted b4/
Mr. Fergusson be correct, the horrors of the siege must*
have been grossly exaggerated, and the stories told byf
Josephus cannot be accepted ; and, for a last objection,
it appears to be assumed, what is manifestly incorrect,
that every able-bodied man fought. For this vast mass \
of poor helpless people were a brutum pecus ; they
took no part whatever in the fighting. Nothing is
clearer than the statement made by Josephus of the
fighting men. They were twenty-three thousand in all
at the beginning : they did not invite help, and pro-
bably would not allow it, from the population within
the walls. These, who very speedily found relief, in
the thinning of death, for their first lack of accommo-
dation, sat crouching and cowering in the houses, des-
perately hoping against hope, starving from the very
* Taking the shape of the city to be circular and 23 stadia in
circumference (it was more nearly circular than square), we find
its area to have been rather more than 3,500,000 square yards.
This, at 30 square yards to one person, gives about 120,000 for the
ordinary population. And there were extensive gardens and nume-
rous villas to the north and east which contained another popu-
lation altogether quite impossible to estimate. And it must not be
forgotten that Cestius (Joseph. ' Bell. Jud.' vi. ix. 3) caused an
estimate to be made, a very few years before the siege, of the
numbers actually present at the Passover, and that the official
return was 2,560,500 persons. The whole question is clearly stated
by Mr. Williams (' Holy City,' vol. i., p. 481). And, as he points
out very justly, it is not a question how many would be comfortably
accommodated in Jerusalem, but how many were actually cram?ned
into it.
SIGNS AND PORTENTS. 27
immencement, beginning to die in heaps almost
bfefore the camp of the Tenth Legion was pitched upon
the Mount of Olives. The numbers given by Josephus
may not be correct within a great many thousands ;
there is reason enough, however, to believe that,
vithin limits very much narrower than some of his
headers are disposed to believe, his numbers may be
fairly depended on. After all, it matters little enough
what the numbers really were ; and even if we let
them be what anyone chooses to call them, there yet
remains no doubt that the sufferings of the people were
very cruel, and that, of all wretched and bloody sieges
in the world's history, few, if any, have been more
wretched or more bloody than the siege of Jerusalem
by Titus.
The people knew full well, of course, that the Romans
were coming. Fear was upon all, and expectation of
things great and terrible. As in all times of general ex-
citement, signs were reported to have been seen in the
heavens, and portents, which, however, might be read
both ways, were observed. A star shaped like a sword,
and a comet, stood over the city for a whole year. A
great light had shone on the altar at the ninth hour of
the night. A heifer, led up to be sacrificed, brought
forth a lamb in the midst of the Temple. The eastern
gate of the inner court, so heavy that it required
twenty men to move it, flew open of its own accord in
the night. Chariots and troops of soldiers in armour
were seen running about in the clouds, and surrounding
cities. When the priests were one night busy in their
sacred offices, they felt the earth quaking beneath them,
and heard a cry, as of a great multitude, ' Let us re-
move hence !' And always up and down the city
wandered Jesus, the son of Ananus, crying, ' Woe, woe
;
28 JERUSALEM. I
to Jerusalem !' until the siege began in earnest, whe
he ceased ; for being on the wall, he cried, ' Woe, wo
to the city again ! and to the people, and to the Hoi
House !' and then, as he added, ' Woe, woe to myse
also !' a stone from one of the engines smote him an
he died.
Titus posted the Tenth Legion on the Mount c
Olives, and the Twelfth and Fifteenth on Moun
Scopus, the Fifth remaining some little distance be-
hind. As the Tenth were engaged in pitching their
camp, the Jews, whose leaders had hastily patched up
a kind of peace, suddenly sallied forth from the eastern
gate, and marching across the valley of the
Kedron, charged the Romans before they had
time to form in battle. Titus himself brought a chosen
body to their relief, and the Jews were, with great
difficulty, driven back.
The next four days were spent in clearing the ground
to the north of the city, the only part where an attack
could be made. ' They* threw down the hedges and
walls which the people had made about their gardens
and groves of trees, and cut down the fruit-trees which
lay between them and the wall of the city.'
The Jews, furious at sight of this destruction, made a
sally, pretending at first to be outcasts from the city,
and hiding the weapons until they were close upon the
enemy. On this occasion the Romans were utterly
routed, and fled, pursued by the Jews ' as far as Helen's
monument.' It was a gleam of sunshine, and nearly
the only gleam that fell to the lot of the besieged. Titus
removed his camp to the north side of the city, and
leaving the Tenth still on the Mount of Olives, placed
the Fifth on the west of the city, over against the
Joseph. ' Bell. Jud." v. iii. 2.
SIGNS AND POX TENTS. 29
wers of Hippicus and Phasaelus, and the Twelfth
Lftd Fifteenth on the north. A cordon of men, seven
teep, was drawn round the north and west of the city.
fChis must have taken some twenty-five thousand men
.0 effect.
On the morning of the Passover, John contrived —
taking advantage of the permission freely granted
to all who chose to enter the Temple unarmed
— to send in his own men, choosing those whose
features were not known to Eleazar's followers, with
concealed weapons. Directly they got into the Inner
Temple, they made an attack on the men of the opposite
faction. A good many were slaughtered, and the rest,
finding it best to yield, made terms with their con-
querors, Eleazar's life being spared. There now
remained only two factions in the city, Simon holding
the strongest place — the Palace of Herod, which com-
manded the Upper Town — and John the Temple
Fortress, without which the Lower Town could not be
taken.
It was determined to begin the assault with the
north-western part of the wall, that part of it where
the valley turns in a north-westerly direction and leaves
a level space between the wall and its own course.
The engines used by the Romans were those always
employed in the conduct of a siege — the ballistae, the
towers, and the battering-rams. Then banks were
constructed, on each of which was a tower and a ram.
In the construction of these last all the trees round
Jerusalem were cut down. Nor have they ever been re-
planted, and a thousand years later on the siege of the
city by the Crusaders, only inferior in horror to that of
Titus, nearly miscarried for want of timber to construct
the towers of assault.
30 JERUSALEM.
As soon as the banks were sufficiently advanced thM
battering rams were mounted and the assault coft }-
menced. The Jews, terrified by the thunder of th.e
rams against the city, annoyed, too, by the stones which
came into the city from the ballistse, joined their
forces and tried a sortie from a secret gate near Hippicus.
Their object was to destroy the machines by fire ; and
in this they well-nigh succeeded, fighting with a
desperation and courage which no Roman troops had
ever before experienced. Titus himself was in the
conflict ; he killed twelve Jews with his own hands ;
but the Romans would have given way had it not been
for the reinforcement of some Alexandrian troops who
came up at the right moment and drove back the Jews.
On the fifteenth day of the siege the biggest batter-
ing-ram, ' Nikon,' the Conqueror, effected a breach
in the outer wall. The Jews, panic-stricken, forgot
their wonted courage and took refuge within the second
wall. Titus became therefore master of Bezetha, in
the New Town, forming about a third of the city.
As nothing is said about the population of this,
which was probably only a suburb and never actually
filled with people till the siege began, we may suppose
that very early in the assault they hastened out of
reach of the ballistse and arrows by fleeing to the inner
city. And by this time a fortnight of the siege had
passed away and already their numbers were grievously
thinned by starvation.
Between the palace of Herod and the Temple area
there stretched the second wall across the Tyropceon
valley, which was filled, before the faction fights of
Simon and John, with houses of the lower sort of
people. This was the most densely populated part of
the city. The wall which defended it was not so strong
THE ASSAULT. 31
als the rest of the fortifications, and in five days, in-
cluding an unsuccessful attempt to storm the Palace of
Herod, a breach was effected and the Romans poured
into the town, Titus at their head.
In hopes of detaching the people from the soldiers,
Titus ordered that no houses should be destroyed, no
property pillaged, and the lives of the people spared. It
I was an act of mercy which the fierce passions of the
'Jews interpreted as a sign of weakness, and renewing
1 their contest, fighting hand to hand in the streets, from
I the houses, from the walls, they beat the Romans back,
and recaptured their wall, filling the breach with their
own bodies. The battle lasted for four days more,
when Titus, entering again, threw down the whole
northern part of the wall and became master of the
whole Lower Town.
Partly to give his troops rest, partly to exhibit his
power before the Jews, Titus gave orders that the pay-
ing of the troops should be made the opportunity for a
review of the whole army almost under the walls of the
: city, and in full view of the besieged. The pageant
lasted four days, during which there was a grand march-
past of the splendid Roman troops, with burnished
armour and weapons, and in full uniform.
' So the soldiers, according to custom, opened the
cases where their arms before lay covered, and marched
with their breastplates on ; as did the horsemen lead
the horses in their fine trappings. . . . The whole of
the old wall and the north side of the Temple were full
of spectators, and one might see the houses full of such
as looked at them ; nor was there any part of the city
which was not covered over with their multitudes ;
nay, a great consternation seized upon the hardiest of
the Jews themselves, when they saw all the army in the
32 JERUSALEM.
same place, together with the success of their arm s 1
and the good order of the men.'*
The Jews saw and trembled. But they did not
submit. There could be no longer any hope. The
multitude, pent up in limits too narrow for one-tenth of
their number, daily obtained more room by death, for
they died by thousands. The bodies were thrown
out into the valleys, where they lay rotting, a loath-
some mass. Roaming bands of soldiers went up and
down the city looking for food. When they came
upon a man who looked fat and well-fed they tortured
him till he told the secret of his store : to be starving j
or to appear to be starving was the only safety ; and j
' now,' says Josephus, ' all hope of escaping was cut
off from the Jews, together with their liberty of going j
out of the city. Then did the famine widen its pro-
gress, and devoured the people by whole houses and
families ; the upper rooms were full of women and |
children that were dying by famine, and the lanes of
the city were full of the dead bodies of the aged ; the ,
children also and the young men wandered about the
market-places like shadows, all swelled with the famine,
and fell down dead wheresoever their misery seized
them. As for burying them, those that were sick
themselves were not able to do it ; and those that were
hearty and well, were deterred from doing it by the
great multitude of those dead bodies, and by the un-
certainty there was how soon they should die them-
selves ; for many died as they were burying others,
and many went to their coffins before that fatal hour
was come ! Nor was there any lamentation made
under these calamities, nor were heard any mournful
complaints ; but the famine confounded all natural :
• Joseph. ' Bell. Jud.' v. ix. i.
FAMINE. 33
ssions ; for those who were just going to die, looked
ij)on those that were gone to their rest before them
vith dry eyes and open mouths. A deep silence also,
ind a kind of deadly night, had seized upon the city ;
vhile yet the robbers were still more terrible than these
niseries were themselves ; for they brake open those
louses which were no other than graves of dead bodies,
ind plundered them of what they had ; and carrying
)ff the coverings of their bodies, went out laughing,
ind tried the points of their swords on their dead
todies ; and, in order to prove what mettle they were
nade of, they thrust some of those through that still
ay alive upon the ground ; but for those that entreated
:hem to lend them their right hand, and their sword
:o despatch them, they were too proud to grant their
"equests, and left them to be consumed by the famine.
Now every one of these died with their eyes fixed upon
;he Temple. Children pulled the very morsels that
r.heir fathers were eating out of their very mouths, and
vhat was still more to be pitied, so did the mothers do
is to their infants ; and when those that were most
lear were perishing under their hands, they were not
tshamed to take from them the very last drops that
night preserve their lives ; and while they ate after
[his manner, yet were they not concealed in so doing ;
)ut the seditious everywhere came upon them immedi-
ately, and snatched away from them what they had
:otten from others ; for when they saw any house shut
lip, this was to them a signal that the people within
liad gotten some food : whereupon they broke open the
lloors and ran in, and took pieces of what they were
; ating, almost up out of their very throats, and this
I y force ; the old men, who held their food fast, were
ieaten ; and if the women hid what they had within
34 JERUSALEM. '
their hands, their hair was torn for so doing; nor was
there any commiseration shown either to the aged 'or
to infants, but they lifted up children from the ground
as they hung upon the morsels they had gotten, and
shook them down upon the floor ; but still were they
more barbarously cruel to those that had prevented
their coming in, and had actually swallowed down
what they were going to seize upon, as if they had
been unjustly defrauded of their right. They also
invented terrible methods of torment to discover
where any food was, and a man was forced to bear
what it is terrible even to hear, in order to make him
confess that he had but one loaf of bread, or that he
might discover a handful of barley-meal that was con-
cealed ; this was done when these tormentors were not
themselves hungry ; for the thing had been less bar-
barous had necessity forced them to it ; but it was
done to keep their madness in exercise, and as making
preparation of provisions for themselves for the follow-
ing days.'
At night the miserable wretches would steal into the
ravines, those valleys where the dead bodies of their
children, their wives, and kin, were lying in putrefying
masses, to gather roots which might serve for food. The
lot of these was pitiable indeed. If they remained out-
side they were captured by the Romans, and crucified,
sometimes five hundred in a morning, in full view of the
battlements : if they went back laden with a few poor
roots of the earth, they were robbed by the soldiers
at the gate, and sent home again to their starving
children, starving themselves, and unable to help them.
The cruelty of Titus, designed to terrify the Jews, only
stimulated them to fresh courage. Why, indeed, should
they surrender? Death was certain for all ; it was better
i
THE BANKS DESTROYED. 35
tf> die fighting, to kill one of the enemy at least, than to
4 : >£ amid the jeers of the triumphant soldiers. Besides,
we must remember that they were defending their
sacred mountain, their Temple, the place to which
every Jew's heart looked with pride and fondness,
whither turned the eyes of those who died with a sort
of sad reproach. Simon and John were united in this
feeling alone — that it was the highest duty of a Jew to
fight for his country. The portraits of these two com-
manders have been drawn by an enemy's hand. We
must remember that the prolonged resistance of the
Jews was a standing reproof to Josephus, who had been
defeated, captured, and taken into favour. No epithets,
on his part, can be too strong to hurl at John and
Simon. It is impossible now to know what were the
real characters of these men, whether they were
religious patriots, or whether they were filled with the
basest and most selfish motives. One thing is quite
certain and may be said of both : if John hated Simon
much, he loved the city more. Neither, at the worst
moment, hinted at a surrender of the town ; neither
tried to curry favour for himself by compassing the fall
of his adversary.
And the Jews, though emaciated by hunger, reeling
and fainting for weakness, were yet full of courage and
resource. While Titus was spending seventeen days of
arduous labour in getting ready his new banks against
the Temple, the Jews were busy burrowing beneath his
feet ; and when the rams had been mounted and
already were beginning to play, a subterranean rum-
bling was heard, and the work of weeks fell suddenly
to the ground.
'The Romans had much ado to finish their banks
after labouring hard for seventeen days continually.
3—2
36 JERUSALEM.
There were now four great banks raised, one of which
was at the tower of Antonia ; this was raised by t { e
Fifth Legion, over against the middle of that pool which
was called Struthius. Another was cast up by the
Twelfth Legion, at the distance of about twenty cubits
from the other. But the labours of the ioth Legion,
which lay a great way off these, were on the north
quarter, and at the pool called Amygdalon; as was
that of the Fifteenth Legion, about thirty cubits from
it, and at the high priest's monument. And now, when
the engines were brought, John had from within under-
mined the space that was over against the Tower of
Antonia, as far as the banks themselves, and had sup-
ported the ground over the mine with beams laid
across one another, whereby the Roman works stood
upon an uncertain foundation. Then did he order
such materials to be brought in as were daubed over
with pitch and bitumen, and set them on fire ; and as
the cross beams that supported the banks were burn-
ing, the ditch yielded on the sudden, and the banks
were shaken down, and fell into the ditch with a
prodigious noise. Now at the first there arose a very
thick smoke and dust, as the fire was choked with the
fall of the bank ; but as the suffocated materials were
now gradually consumed, a flame brake out ; on which
sudden appearance of the flame a consternation fell
upon the Romans, and the shrewdness of the con-
trivance discouraged them ; and indeed, this accident,
coming upon them at a time when they thought they
had already gained their point, cooled their hopes for
the time to come. They also thought it would be to
no purpose to take the pains to extinguish the fire
since, if it were extinguished, the banks were swallowec
up already [and become useless] to them.'
THE BANKS DESTROYED. 57
A The other banks against the west wall were not more
(fortunate. For Simon's soldiers, with torches in their
hands, rushed out suddenly when the engines were
beginning to shake the walls. They seized the iron of
the engines, which was red hot, and despite this held
them till the wood was consumed. The Romans
retreated : the guards, who would not desert their post,
fell in numbers, and Titus found his whole army waver-
ing under the attacks of a half-starved and haggard
mob, whose courage arose from despair. And the
engines had all been burned, the labour of three weeks
gone. Titus held a council to decide what should next
be done. It was resolved, on his own suggestion, that
a wall of circumvallation should be raised round the
city, and that a strict blockade, cutting off all com-
munication with the country, should be established,
until starvation should force a surrender.
The wall, which was probably little more than a
breast-work, though strong and solid, was completed,
together with thirteen external redoubts, in three days,*
every soldier giving his labour. No attempt seems to
have been made by the Jews to prevent or hinder the
work. Probably they were too weak to attempt any
more sorties. A strict watch was set by the Romans
— up to this time the blockade does not seem to have
I been complete — and no one was allowed to approach
the wall. And now the last feeble resort of the Jews,
the furtive gathering of roots under the city walls, was
denied them ; and the sufferings of the besieged
became too great for any historian to relate. Titus
himself, stoic though he was, and resolute to succeed
* This alone is sufficient to prove the extent of Titus's army.
An army of thirty thousand would be utterly unable to accomplish
such a work in three days.
.612
38 JERUSALEM.
in spite of any suffering, called God to witness, with
tears in his eyes, that this was not his doing.
Even the obstinacy of the Jews gave way under these
sufferings, and more than one attempt was made to in-
troduce the Romans. Matthias opened a communica-
tion with the enemy. He was detected, and, with three
sons, was executed. One Judas, the son of Judas, who
was in command of a tower in the Upper City, con-
certed with ten of his men, and invited the Romans to
come up and take the tower. Had Titus at once
ordered a troop to mount, the Upper City might have
been easily taken. But he had been too often deceived
by feints, and hesitated. The plot was discovered,
and Judas, with his ten fellows, was hurled over the
ramparts at the feet of the Romans.
It was then that Josephus, whom of all men the be-
sieged hated, was wounded in the head, but not
seriously, by a stone. The Jews made a tremendous
acclamation at seeing this, and sallied forth for a sortie,
in the excess of their joy. Josephus, senseless, was
taken up and conveyed away, but the next day re-
appeared and once more offered the clemency of Titus
to those who would come out. The hatred which his
countrymen bore to Josephus, as to an apostate,
natural enough, shows remarkably the love of justice
which in all times has distinguished the Jew. His
father and mother were in the city. They were not,
till late in the siege, interfered with in any way : and
his father was set in prison at last, more, apparently,
to vex his son than with any idea of doing him an
injury.*
* Josephus narrates how his mother wept at the false report of
his death, and quotes with complacency her lamentation that she.
had brought so distinguished a man into the world for so early a
death.
DESERTERS. 39
(The miserable state of the city drove hundreds to
insert. They came down from the walls, or they made
\ pretended sortie and passed over to the Romans ; but
here a worse fate accompanied them, in spite of
Josephus's promises, for Josephus had not reckoned on
the expectation that the Jews, famishing and mad for
food, would, as proved the case, cause their own death
by over-eating at first. And a more terrible danger
awaited them. It was rumoured about that the
deserters swallowed their gold before leaving the city,
and the auxiliaries in the Roman camp, Arabians and
Syrians, seized the suppliants, and fairly cut them open
to find the gold. And though Titus was incensed when
he heard of it, and prohibited it strictly, he could not
wholly stop the practice, and the knowledge of this
cruelty getting into the city stopped many who would
otherwise have escaped : they remained to die. One
of those who kept the register of burials and paid
the bearers of the dead, told Josephus that out of
his gate alone 115,880 bodies had been thrown since
the siege began, and many citizens, whose word could
be depended on, estimated the number who had died at
600,000.
Banks, meanwhile, were gradually rising against the
fortress of Antonia. The Romans had swept the
country clear of trees for ninety furlongs round to find
timber for their construction : they took twenty-one
days to complete, and were four in number. The
besieged no longer made the same resistance. Their
courage, says Josephus, was no longer Jewish, 'for they
failed in what is peculiar to our nation, in boldness,
violence of assault, and running upon the enemy all
together . . . but they now went out in a more languid
manner than before . . . and they reproached one
4o JERUSALEM.
another for cowardice, and so retired without doing
anything.' The attacks of the enemy were, however,
courageously repulsed. For a whole day the Romans
endeavoured with rams to shake the wall, and with
crows and picks to undermine its foundations. Dark-
ness made them withdraw, and during the night the
wall, which had been grievously shaken, fell of its own
accord.
But even this calamity had been foreseen by the de-
fenders, and, to the astonishment and even dismay ot
Titus, a new wall was found built up behind the old,
and the Jews upon it, ready to defend it with their old
spirit. Titus exhorted his soldiers, who were getting
dejected at the renewal of the enemy's obstinacy, and
offered the highest rewards to him who would first
mount the wall. His exhortation, like the rest of the
speeches in Josephus, is written after the grand historic
style, and embodies all those sentiments which a general
ought to feel under the circumstances, together with a
verbosity and length quite sufficient to deprive it of all
hortatory effect.
One Sabinus, with only eleven others, made the
attempt. He alone reached the top of the wall, and
after a gallant fight was killed by the Jews. His
followers were also either killed or wounded. Two
days afterwards ' twelve of the men who were in the
front,' to give the story in Josephus's own words, ' got
together, and calling to them the standard-bearer of
the Fifth Legion and two others of a troop of horse,
and one trumpeter, went out noiselessly about the ninth
hour of the night through the ruins to the tower of
Antonia. They found the guards of the place asleep, cut
their throats, got possession of the wall, and ordered
the trumpeter to sound his trumpet. Upon this the
FAILURE OF THE DAILY SACRIFICE. 41
re^t of the guard got up suddenly and ran away before
anybody could see how many they were who had got
into the tower.' Titus heard the signal and came to
the place. The Jews, in their haste to escape, fell
themselves into the mine which John had dug under
the barks ; they rallied again, however, at the entrance
of the Temple, and the most determined fight, in a
narrow and confined space, took place there. The
Temple was not to fall quite yet, and after a whole day's
battle the Romans had to fall back, masters, however,
of Antonia.
But on that very day the daily sacrifice failed
for the first time, and with it the spirit of the
starving besieged.
The end, now, was not far off. In seven days
nearly the whole of Antonia, excepting the south-east
tower, was pulled down, and a broad way was opened
for the Roman army to march to the attack of the
Temple.
And now many of the priests and higher classes de-
serted the falling city and threw themselves upon the
clemency of Titus. They were received with kindness
and sent to Gophna. John's last resource was to pre-
tend they had all been murdered, and Titus was obliged
to parade them before the walls to satisfy the suspicions
thus raised.
An attempt was made to take the Temple by a night
attack. This, however, failed, and Titus foresaw the
necessity of raising new banks. Fighting went on
daily in the cloisters, until the Jews set fire to them,
and occasional sorties were made by the besieged in
hopes to catch the enemy at unguarded moments.
The banks were finished on the 1st of August.
Titus ordered that they should be brought and set
42 JERUSALEM. I
: : 7 l
over against the western wall of the inner Temper
For six days the battering-rams played against thi
masonry of the inner Temple, for by this time th[^
beautiful cloisters which surrounded it, and ran fronf
east to west, were all destroyed, and the inner Templet
a fortress in itself, stood naked and alone, tne last
refuge of John and his men. Had they yielded, this
at least would have been spared. But it was not to
be. With a pertinacity which had no longer any hope
in it the obstinate zealots held out. On the north side
the Romans undermined the gate, but could not bring
it down ; they brought ladders and endeavoured to
tunnel the wall. The Jews allowed them to mount,
and then killed every one and captured their ensigns.
And thus it was that Titus, fearing, perhaps, that the
spirit of his own troops would give way, ordered the
northern gate to be set on fire. This was done, and the
cloisters, not those of the outer court, but of the inner,
were soon destroyed. But Titus resolved still to save
the Holy of Holies.
It was the day on which Nebuchadnezzar had
burned the Temple of Solomon. The Jews made
another sortie, their last but one. They could effect
nothing, and retired after five hours' fighting into their
stronghold, the desecrated Temple, on whose altar no
more sacrifices were now made, or ever would be made
again.
Titus retired to Antonia, resolving to take the place
the next day ; but the Jews would not wait so long.
They made a last sortie, which was ineffectual.
' The Romans put the Jews to flight, and proceeded as
far as the Holy House itself. At which time one of
the soldiers, without staying for any orders, and without
any concern or dread upon him at so great an under-
BURNING OF THE TEMPLE. 43
— , ; . . . .
t img, and being hurried on by a certain divine fury,
ie ktched somewhat out of the materials that were on
1 *e, and being lifted up by another soldier, set fire to a
'tolden window, through which there was a passage to
tie rooms that were round about the Holy House, on
the north side of it. As the flames went upward the
Jews made a great clamour, such as so mighty an
affliction required, and ran together to prevent it ;
and now they spared not their lives any longer, nor
suffered anything to restrain their force, since that Holy
House was perishing, for whose sake it was that they
kept such a guard about it.'*
Titus, with all his staff, hastened to save what he
could. He exhorted the soldiers to spare the building.
He stood in the Holy of Holies itself, and beat back
the soldiers who were pressing to the work of destruc-
tion. But in vain : one of the soldiers threw a torch
upon the gateway of the sanctuary, and in a moment
the fate of the building was sealed. And while the
flames mounted higher the carnage of the poor wretches
within went on. None was spared ; ten thousand
were killed that were found there — children, old men,
priests and profane persons, all alike ; six thousand
fled to the roof of the royal cloister, that glorious
building which crowned the Temple wall to the south,
stretching from ' Robinson's Arch ' to the valley of the
Kedron. The Romans fired that too, and the whole of
the multitude perished together.
' One would have thought that the hill itself, on
which the Temple stood, was seething hot, full of fire
in every part ; that the blood was larger in quantity
than the fire ; and those that were slain more in
number than those that slew them, for the ground no-
* Joseph, vi. iv. 5.
• M
44 JERUSALEM,
where appeared visible for the dead bodies that lay '< a '*°
it ; but the soldiers went over heaps of these bodies f a
they ran after such as fled from them.'*
The really guilty among the Jews, the fighting me n >
had cut their way through the Romans and fled to the
Upper City. A few priests either hid themselves in
secret chambers or crouched upon the top of the wall.
On the fifth day they surrendered, being starving.
Titus ordered them to execution.
And so the Temple of Herod fell.
The Roman army flocked into the ruins of the
Temple which it had cost them so many lives to take ;
sacrifices were offered, and Titus was saluted as Im-
perator. An immense spoil was found there, not only
from the sacred vessels of gold, but from the treasury,
in which vast sums had been accumulated. The upper
town, Zion, still held out. Titus demanded a parley.
Standing on that bridge, the ruined stones of which
were found by Warren lying eighty feet below the
surface of the ground, he for the last time offered
terms to the insurgents. He explained that they could
no longer entertain any hope, even the slightest, of
safety, and renewed his offers of clemency to those who
should yield.
But the offers of Titus were supposed to be the effect
of weakness. Again the insurgents, now indeed pos-
sessed with a divine madness, declined them. They
demanded that they might be allowed to march out
with all their arms, and what would now be called the
honours of war. This proposition from a handful of
starved soldiers surrounded by the ruins of all that they
held dear, with a triumphant army on all sides, was too
monstrous to be accepted even by the most clement of
* Joseph. Bell. Jud. vi. v. i.
I
THE LAST SCENE. 45
. .
jonquerors, and Titus resolved with reluctance on the
destruction of the whole people. The royal family of
Adiabene, descendants of Queen Helena, had not left
Jerusalem during the siege ; on the contrary, they had
lent every aid in their power to the Jews. Now, how-
ever, seeing that no hope was to be got from any but
Titus, they went over in a body to the Romans and
prayed for mercy. Out of consideration for their
royal blood this was granted. But the Jews revenged
the fainthearted conduct of these royal proselytes by
an incursion into the lower New Town (on the Hill of
Ophel), burning their palace and sacking the rest of
'the town. The last part of the siege, which Mr. Lewin
finely calls the fifth act of a bloody tragedy, was com-
menced by the usual methods of raising banks, all
attempts to carry the Upper City by assault being
hopeless. These were raised over against the Palace
jof Herod on the west, and at a point probably op-
posite Robinson's Arch in the east. And now, at the
last moment, no longer sustained by any hopes of
miraculous interference — for if their God had allowed
His Temple to fall, why should He be expected to spare
the citadel ? — the Jews lost all courage and began to
desert in vast numbers. The Idumaeans, finding that
Simon and John remained firm in their resolution of
defence to the last, sent five of their chiefs to open
negotiations on their own account. Simon and John
discovered the plot ; the five commissioners were
executed ; care was taken to entrust the walls to trusty
guards ; but thousands of the people managed to
escape. The Romans began by slaying the fugitives,
but, tired of slaughter, reserved them as prisoners to
be sold for slaves. Those who were too old or too worn
out by suffering to be of any use they sent away to
46 JERUSALEM.
wander about the mountains, and live or die. (/pne
priest obtained his life by giving up to Titus the sacued
vessels of the Temple, and another by showing wh ere
the treasures were — the vestments of the priests, a r nd
the vast stores of spices which had been used for
burning incense daily.
It took eighteen days to complete the siege-
works. At last the banks were ready to receive
the battering-rams, and these were placed in position.
But little defence was made. Panic-stricken and
cowering, the hapless Jews awaited the breach in the
wall, and the incoming of the enemy. Simon and
John, with what force they could collect, abandoned
the towers, and rushed to attempt an escape over
Titus's wall of circumvallation at the south. It was
hopeless. They were beaten back ; the leaders hid
themselves in the subterranean chambers with which
Jerusalem was honeycombed, and the rest stood still to
be killed. The Romans, pouring into the town, began
by slaying all indiscriminately. Tiring of butchery,
they turned their thoughts to plunder ; but the houses
were filled with dead and putrefying corpses, so that
they stood in horror at the sight, and went out without
touching anything. 'But although they had this com-
miseration for such as were destroyed in this manner,
yet had they not the same for those that were still
alive ; and they ran everyone through whom they met
with, and obstructed the streets with dead bodies, and
made the whole city run with blood to such a degree,
indeed, that the fire of many of the houses was quenched
with their men's blood.'
And then they set fire to the houses, and all was over.
As for the prisoners who remained alive, they were
destined to the usual fate of slaves. To fight as
SIMON AND JOHN. 47
gladiators ; to afford sport among the wild beasts in
the theatres ; and to work for life in the mines, was
their miserable lot. Woe, indeed, to the conquered
in those old wars, where defeat meant death, whose
least cruel form was the stroke of the headsman, or,
worse than death, life, whose least miserable portion
was perpetual slavery in the mines ! It would have
been well had Josephus, after narrating the scenes
which he tells so well, gone to visit these his miser-
able fellow-countrymen in slavery, and described for
us, if he could, the wretchedness of their after-life,
the unspeakable degradation and misery which the
Jew, more than any other man, would feel in his condi-
tion of slavery. Their history began with the slavery
in Egypt : to these unfortunate captives it would seem
as if it was also to end with slavery in Egypt.
The Romans, knowing that Jerusalem had a sort of
subterranean city of excavated chambers beneath it,
proceeded to search for hiding insurgents and for
hidden wealth. The chambers were, like the houses,
often full of dead bodies. They found fugitives in some
of them ; these they put to death. In others they
found treasure ; in others they found corpses.
Simon and John were not among the prisoners, nor
were they among the killed. John, several days after
the capture of the city, came out voluntarily from his
hiding-place, and gave himself up to Titus. He was
reserved for the triumph. And then came the grand
day of rejoicing for the conquerors. Titus made a long
and laudatory oration to the army, adjudged promo-
tions, coronets, necklaces, and other prizes of valour,
and with lavish hand distributed the spoils among his
soldiers. For three days the troops banqueted and
rejoiced. Then Titus broke up his camp, and departed
48 JERUSALEM. j
for Csesarea with the Fifth and Fifteenth Legio/'ns,
leaving the Tenth, under Terentius Rufus, to gukrd
the city, and sending the Twelfth to the banks of the
Euphrates.*
It was not till October that Simon gave himself up.
To prevent being killed at once, he emerged by night
from his hiding-place dressed in a long white robe, so
that the astonished soldiers took him for a ghost. ' I
am Simon, son of Gioras,' he cried. ' Call hither your
general.' Terentius received him as a prisoner, and
sent him to Titus.
One of the most important things in the conduct of
a triumph at Rome was the execution of the general
of the vanquished army. Titus had both generals to
grace his procession. He assigned to Simon the post
of honour. At the foot of the Capitoline Hill the
intrepid Jew was led to the block, with a halter round
his neck, and scourged cruelly. He met his death with
the same undaunted courage as he had defended his
city. John of Giscala remained a prisoner for life.
No historian, except perhaps Milman, whose sym-
pathies are ever with the fallen cause, seems to us to
have done justice, not only to the bravery and heroism
of the Jews, but also to the heroism of their leaders.
Their leaders have been described by an enemy and a
rival — that Josephus, son of Matthias, who, after making
an heroic resistance at Jotapata, obtained his life by
pretending to be a prophet, and continued in favour
with the conquerors by exhorting his fellow-countrymen
to submission. That Simon and John were men stained
with blood, violent, headstrong, we know well ; but it is
by no means certain that they were so bad and worth-
less as Josephus would have us to believe. After the
* Joseph, vii. v. 3.
THE SACREDNESS OF HIE SITE. 49
siege fairly began, they united their forces : we hear no
more of the faction-fights. If their soldiers committed
excesses and cruelties, they were chiefly for food ; a^d
everything had to give way to the preservation of the
defenders. Moreover, discipline was not thought of
among the Jews, whose notion of fighting was chiefly a
blind and headlong rush. But we must again recall
the religious side of the defence. To the Jew his
Temple was more, far more, than even Mecca can be to
a Mohammedan. It had traditions far higher and
more divine. The awful presence of Jehovah had filled
the sanctuary as with a cloud. His angels had been
seen on the sacred hill. There, for generation after
generation, the sacrifice had been offered, the feast
kept, the unsullied faith maintained. The Temple was
a standing monument to remind them by whose aid /
they had escaped captivity ; it taught them perpetually
that freedom was the noblest thing a man can have ; it
was the glorious memorial of a glorious history ; it was
a reminder that theirs was a nation set apart from the
rest of the world. To defend the Temple from outrage
and pollution was indeed the bounden duty of every
Jew. And these Romans, what would they do with it ?
Had they not the keys of the treasury where the vest-
ments of the priests were laid up ? Had not one of
their emperors ordered a statue of himself to be set up,
an impious idol, in the very Holy of Holies ?
A handful of men, they offered war to the mistress of
the world. True, the insurgents were rude and un-
lettered, who knew nothing of Rome and her power.
Even if they had known all that Rome could do, it
would have mattered nothing, for they were fighting for
the defence of all that made life sweet to them ; and .
they were sustained by false prophets, poor brainstruck
4
^° ^_________ JERUSALEM.
V1S1 ° \a ' ^ no saw the things they wished to see, and
6 a what they wished to happen. God might
.u'erfere ; the mighty arm which had protected them of
old might protect them again. The camp of the
Romans might be destroyed like the camp of the
Assyrians ; and because these things might happen, it
was a natural step, to an excited and imaginative people,
to prophesy that they would happen. But when the
time passed by, when none of these things came to
pass, and the deluded multitude hoped that submission
would bring safety at least, the tenacity of their leaders
held them chained to a hopeless defence. Whether
Simon and John fought on with a stronger faith, and
still in hope that the arm of the Lord would be
stretched out, or whether they fought on with the
desperate courage of soldiers who preferred death by
battle to death by execution, it is impossible now to say.
It has been suggested by Josephus, as well as by
modern writers, that the courage of the Jews was
shaken by predictions, omens, and rumours ; but if
there were predictions of disaster, there were also pre-
dictions of triumph. If Jesus, whom a few called
Christ, had prophesied the coming fall of the city, there
were others who had announced the fall of the enemy.
Omens could be read either way. If a sword-shaped
comet hung in the sky, who could deny that the sword
impended over the heads of the Romans ? And when
the gate of the Temple flew open, might it not announce
the opening of the gates for the triumph of the faithful ?
In such a wild, unsettled time, when there was
nothing certain, nothing stable, the very faith of the
people might be intensified by these prophecies of
disaster ; their courage might be strengthened by the
gloomy foretellers of defeat. The Trojans fought none
FAITH OF THE JEWS. 51
the worse because Cassandra was with them ; so the
Jews fought none the worse because voices were
whispering among them the prophecies of Him whom
some recognised as the Messiah.
Let us, at least, award them the meed of praise for
a courage which has never been equalled. Let us
acknowledge that, in all the history of the world, if
there has been no siege more blood} 7 and tragic, so
there has been no city more fiercely contested, more
obstinately defended; and though we may believe that
the fall of Jerusalem had been distinctly prophesied by
our Lord, we must not therefore look on the Jews as
the blind and fated victims of prophecy. The city fell?
not in order to fulfil prophecy, but because the Jews
were, as they ever had been, a turbulent, self-willed
race ; because they were undisciplined ; because they
loved freedom above everything else in the world,
except their religion ; and their religion was the ritual
and the Temple.
4—2
CHAPTER III.
FROM TITUS TO OMAR.
'Wild Hours, that fly with hope and fear,
If all your office had to do
With old results that look like new,
If this were all your mission here,
' To draw, to sheathe a useless sword,
To fool the crowd with glorious lies,
To cleave a creed in sects and cries,
To change the bearing of a word.
* * ■* * #
' Why then my scorn might well descend
On you and yours. I see in part
That all, as in some piece of art,
Is toil co-operant to an end.'
In Memoriam.
Its Temple destroyed, its people killed, led captive, or
dispersed, Jerusalem must have presented, for the next
fifty years, at least, a dreary and desolate appearance.
At first its only inhabitants were the Roman garrison,
but gradually the Jews came dropping in, at first, we
may suppose, on sufferance and good behaviour. When
the Christians returned is not certain. Eusebius says
that directly after the destruction of Jerusalem they
assembled together and chose Simeon as their bishop ;
but he does not say that they gathered together in
Jerusalem. All the traditions represent them as return-
ing very soon after the siege. As for the Jews, the
destruction of the Temple — that symbol of the Law —
only made them more scrupulous in their obedience to
THE RABBIS. 53
the Law. The great school of Gamaliel was set up at
Jabneh, where lectures were delivered on all the
minutiae of Rabbinical teaching, and the Jews were in-
structed how to win the favour of Jehovah by carrying
out to its last letter the smallest details of the Law.
And because this, minute as it was, did not compre-
hend all the details of life, there arose a caste, re-
cruited from all tribes and families alike, which became
more holy than that of the priests and Levites — the
caste of the Rabbis, the students and interpreters of
the Law. The Rabbi had, besides the written law, the
Tradition, Masora, or Cabala, which was pretended to
have been also given to Moses on Mount Sinai, and to
have been handed down in an unbroken line through
the heads of the Sanhedrim. The growth of the Rab-
binical power does not date from the destruction of the
Temple ; it had been slowly developing itself for many
centuries before that event. In the synagogues which
were scattered all over Palestine, and wherever the
Jews could be got together, the learned Rabbi, with
his profound knowledge of the Law, written and oral,
had already, before the destruction of Jerusalem, taken
the place of the priests and their sacrifices ; so that, in
spite of the fall of the Temple, the spiritual life of the
Jews was by no means crushed out of them. Rather
was it deepened and intensified, and their religious
observances more and more invaded the material life.
The Rabbinical tribunals usurped entire rule over the
Jews. Like the Scotch elders, they had power to
summon before them persons accused of immorality,
persons who neglected their children, persons who
violated details of the Law. They could also impose
on offenders punishment by scourging, by censure, by
interdict, by the cherem, or excommunication, which
54 JERUSALEM.
inflicted civil death, but for which pardon might be ob-
tained on repentance and submission, and lastly, by the
fatal shammata, the final curse, after which there was no
pardon possible : ' Let nothing good come out of him ;
let his end be sudden ; let all creatures become his
enemies ; let the whirlwind crush him ; let fever and
every other malady, and the edge of the sword, smite
him ; let his death be unforeseen, and drive him into
outer darkness.'* With this machinery of internal
government, the Jews were not only united together
and separated from the rest of the world, in each par-
ticular town, not only did they maintain their nation-
ality and their religion, but, which was of much more
importance to their conquerors, they were able to act
in concert with each other, to demand redress together,
to give help to each other, to rise in revolt together.
As for their treatment by the Romans, it is not
certain that they were at first persecuted at all. A tax
of two drachms was levied by Vespasian on every Jew
for the rebuilding of the Temple of Jupiter Capito-
linus, and was exacted with the greatest rigour. He
also searched everywhere for descendants of the House
of David, in order to extinguish the royal line alto-
gether ; otherwise there is no evidence to show that
the Jews were ill-treated by the conquerors, but rather
the contrary, because the policy of the Romans
was always to treat the conquered nations with con-
sideration and humanity, and to extend to them the
privilege of citizenship. But whether they were perse-
cuted or not, and whatever the cause, the whole of the
Jews in Egypt, Cyrene, Babylonia, and Judaea, rose in
universal revolt in the time of Trajan. Perhaps they
had experienced some affront to their religion ; perhaps
* Milman, ' Hist, of the Jews,' iii. 146.
HOSTILITY OF THE JEWS. 55
they had been persecuted with the Christians; perhaps
they expected the Messiah ; perhaps their fanatical
and turbulent spirit was the cause of the rising ; per-
haps the stories told in the Rabbinical accounts contain
some truth. In these it is related how the birthday of
an Imperial Prince fell on the gth of August, the anni-
versary of the taking of Jerusalem, and the Jews in
Rome were wailing and lamenting while the rest of the
world was rejoicing. Also, on another occasion, while
the Imperial family were lamenting the death of a
daughter, the Jews were celebrating, with the cus-
tomary semblance of joy, their Feast of Lamps. Heavy
persecution followed these unfortunate coincidences.
The hostility of the Jews was manifested against the
Greeks rather than against the Romans. In Alexandria
the Greeks massacred all the Jews. In return the
Jews, under Lucuas and Andrew, spread themselves
over the whole of Lower Egypt, and perpetrated
ghastly atrocities. The Roman Governor, meantime,
could do nothing for want of troops. In Cyprus the
Jews are said to have killed two hundred and forty
thousand of their fellow-citizens. Hadrian came to
their rescue, and fairly swept the insurgents out of the
island, where in memory of these troubles no Jew has
ever since been allowed to reside. Martius Turbo
quieted the insurrection in Cyrene, and then marched
into Egypt, where he found Lucuas at the head of an
enormous army. Mindful, as all Jewish insurgents, of
his people's traditions, and no doubt hoping for another
miracle, Lucuas tried to pass by way of Suez into
Palestine ; but, no miracle being interposed, he and
his men were all cut to pieces. Then the Jews of
Mesopotamia rose in their turn, impatient of a change
of masters which gave them the cold and stern Roman,
5 6 JERUSALEM.
in place of their friends, and sometimes co-religionists,
the Parthians. The revolt was quelled by Lucius
Quietus, who was appointed to the government of
Judaea ; and when Trajan died, and Hadrian ascended
the throne, all the conquests in the East beyond the
Euphrates were abandoned : the Jews across that
river settled peacefully down with their old masters
again ; and henceforward the tranquillity of these
trans-Euphrates Jews wonderfully contrasts with the
turbulence and ferocity of their Syrian brethren. But
Hadrian resolved to suppress this troublesome and
turbulent Judaism altogether. He forbade circum-
cision, the reading of the Law, the observance of the
Sabbaths ; and he resolved to convert Jerusalem into a
Roman colony. And then, because the Jews could no
longer endure their indignities, and because before the
dawn they ever looked for the darkest hour, the most
cruel wrong, there arose Barcochebas, the ' Son of the
Star,' and led away their hearts, in the belief that he
was indeed the Messiah. This, the last, was the
wildest and the most bloodthirsty of all the Jewish
revolts.
The Messiah, the rumour ran forth among all Jews
in all lands, had come at last, and the prophecy of
Balaam was fulfilled. The mission of the pretender
was recognised by no less a person than Akiba, the
greatest of living doctors, perhaps the greatest of all
Jewish doctors. He, when he saw Barcochebas, ex-
claimed loudly, ' Behold the Messiah !' ' Akiba,' replied
Rabbi Johannan Ben Torta, whose faith was perhaps
as strong, but whose imagination was not so active as
his learned brother's, ' the grass will be growing through
your jaws before the Messiah comes.' But Akiba's
authority prevailed.
RABBI AKIBA. 57
Rabbi Akiba, according to the story of the Rabbis,
traced his descent from Sisera, through a Jewish
mother. He was originally a poor shepherd boy, em-
ployed to tend the sheep belonging to a rich Jew
named Calva Sheva. He fell in love with his master's
daughter, and was refused her hand on the ground of
his poverty and lowness of condition. He married her
secretly, went away, and studied the Law. In course
of time he came back to his master, followed, we are
told, like Abelard, by twelve thousand disciples : he
was a second time refused as a son-in-law. He went
away again, but returned once more, this time with
twenty-four thousand disciples, upon which Calva
Sheva gave him his daughter and took him into favour.
He is said to have been one hundred and twenty years
of age when Barcochebas appeared. Probably he was
at least well advanced in years. The adherence of
Akiba to the rebel leader was doubtless the main cause
of the hold which he obtained over his countrymen, for
the authority of Akiba was greater than that of any
other living Jew. Other pretenders had obtained
followers, but not among the doctors learned in the
law, not among such Rabbis as Akiba. When the
mischief was done, and, by the influence of Akiba,
Barcochebas found himself at the head of two hundred
thousand warriors mad with religious zeal, Turnus
Rufus, the new governor, seized and imprisoned the
aged Rabbi.* He was brought out to trial. In the
midst of the questioning Akiba remembered that it was
the time for prayer, and with his usual calmness, in the
presence of his judges, disregarding and heedless of
their questions, he proceeded with his devotions. He
was condemned to be flayed with iron hooks.
* Other accounts say that he was taken prisoner in the taking of
Jerusalem.
58 JERUSALEM.
No one knows the origin and previous history of
Barcochebas, nor how the insurrection first began. All
kinds of legends were related of his prowess and per-
sonal strength. He was so strong that he would catch
the stones thrown from the catapults with his feet, and
hurl them back upon the enemy with force equal to
that of the machines which cast them. He could
breathe flames. He would at first admit into his ranks
only those men who, to show their courage, endured to
have a finger cut off; but was dissuaded from this, and
ordered instead, and as a proof of strength, that no one
should join his ranks who could not himself tear up a
cedar of Lebanon with his own hands.
The first policy of the Jews was to hide their
strength, for the insurrection was long in being pre-
pared. They knew, and they alone, all the secrets of
the caves, subterranean passages, and hidden com-
munications with which their city and whole country
were honeycombed. They knew, too, where were the
places best fitted for strongholds, and secretly fortified
them ; so that when they appeared suddenly and un-
expectedly as the aggressors, they became masters
almost at one stroke of fifty strong places and nearly a
thousand villages. The first thing they did was to take
Jerusalem, which probably offered only the small resist-
ance of a feeble garrison. Here, no doubt, they set up
an altar again, and, after a fashion, rebuilt the Temple.
Turnus Rufus, the Roman governor, whose troops were
few, slaughtered the unoffending people all over Judaea,
but was not strong enough to make head against the
rebellion, which grew daily stronger. Then Julius
Severus, sent for by Hadrian in haste, came with an
overwhelming force, and, following the same plan as
had been adopted by Vespasian, attacked their strong
BARCOCHEBAS. 59
places in detail. Jerusalem was taken, the spirits of
the insurgents being crushed by the falling in of the
vaults on Mount Zion, and Barcochebas himself was
slain. The rebels, in despair, changed his name to
Bar Koziba, the ' Son of a Lie,' and fled to Bether,
their last stronghold, where they held out, under Rufus,
the son of Barcochebas, for two years more. A story
is told of its defence which shows at least how the
hearts of the Jews were filled with the spirit of their
old histories.* Seeing the desperate state of things,
Eliezer, the Rabbi, enjoined the besieged to seek their
last resource in prayer to God. All day long he prayed,
and all day long, while he prayed, the battle went in
favour of the Jews. Then a treacherous Samaritan
stole up to the Rabbi and whispered in his ear. The
leader of the insurgentsf asked what he whispered.
The Samaritan refused at first to tell, and then, with
assumed reluctance, pretended that it was the answer
to a secret message which Eliezer had sent to the
Romans proposing capitulation. The Jewish leader,
infuriated with this act of treason, ordered the Rabbi
to be instantly executed. This was done, and then,
there being no longer anyone to pray, the tide of battle
turned, and on the fatal gth of August the fortress of
Bether was taken and the slaughter of the insurgents
accomplished. The horses of the Romans, we are told,
were up to their girths in blood. An immense number
fell in this war : Dio Cassius says five hundred and
eighty thousand by the sword alone, not including
those who fell by famine, disease, and fire. The
fortress itself where the last stand was made, whose
* Milman, iii., p. 122. See also Derenbourg, ' Hist, dela Pales-
tine,' chap. xxiv.
t Milman says Barcochebas, but, though all is uncertainty, it
appears probable, as stated above, that he was dead already.
6o JERUSALEM.
position was long unknown, has been identified beyond
a doubt by Mr. George Williams.* It appeared as if
Hadrian's purpose was achieved, and Judaism at last
suppressed for ever. He turned Jerusalem into a
Roman colony, calling it iElia Capitolina ; forbade any
Jew, on pain of death, to appear even within sight of
the city ; and built a temple of Jupiter on the site of
the Temple. On the site of the sepulchre of Christ,
if indeed it was the site, was a temple to Venus, placed
there, Eusebius would have us believe, in mockery of
the Christian religion, and with a design to destroy the
memory of the sepulchre. Meantime the Christians,
who had suffered greatly during the revolt of Barco-
chebas, being tortured by the Jews and confounded
with them by the Romans, hastened to separate them-
selves as much as possible from further possibility of
confusion by electing a Gentile convert, Marcus, to the
bishopric of Jerusalem. To this period maybe referred
the first springing up of that hatred of the Jews which
afterwards led to such great and terrible persecutions.f
The history of the next hundred years presents
nothing remarkable. The persecution of Diocletian
raged throughout the East ; the usual stories of
miracles are recorded ; a library was founded in Jeru-
salem by Bishop Alexander ; and meantime the old
name of the city was forgotten entirely out of its own
country. So much was this the case, that a story is
related of an Egyptian martyr who, on being asked the
name of his city, replied that it was Jerusalem, meaning
* 'Holy City,' vol. i., p. 210.
f An account of the Christian bishops, and of the controversies
and discussions which harassed the Church, will be found in
Williams's ' Holy City.' It may be as well to mention that through-
out this work we have studiously refrained from touching, except
where it was impossible to avoid doing so, on things ecclesiastical.
HELENA. 6 1
the heavenly Jerusalem. The judge had never heard
of such a city, and ordered him to be tortured in order
to ascertain the truth.
And now grew up the spirit of pilgrimage, and the
superstition of sacred places began, or rather was
grafted into the new religion from the old. Of the
pilgrims of these early times we have to speak in
another place. At present they interest us only that
they brought about two events of the greatest import-
ance to the history of the world and the future of
the Christian Church — the building of Constantine's
church, and the Invention of the Cross by Helena.
Happy would it have been, indeed, for humanity,
if the cave of Christ's sepulchre had never been dis-
covered, and if the wood of the Cross had still
remained buried in the earth.
The historians quarrel as much over the birthplace
of Helena as that of Homer. She was the daughter of
a Breton king named Coel ; she was born in York ;
she was the daughter of an innkeeper at Drepanium,
near Nicomedia ; she was a native of Dalmatia, of
Dacia, of Tarsus, of Edessa, of Treves. Whether she
was ever married to Constantius does not appear. If
she was, he deserted her for Theodora, the daughter-
in-law of Maximian. But Constantius made his son,
Constantine, by Helena, his legal heir, and presented
him to the troops as his successor ; and Constantine
regarded his mother with the greatest affection, sur-
rounded her with every outward sign of respect and
dignity, granted her the title of Augusta, stamped her
name on coins, and gave her name to divers towns.
Helena was at this period a Christian — whether born
in the new religion or a convert does not appear ; nor
is it clear that she had anything to do with the conver-
62 JERUSALEM.
sion of her son. This illustrious and imperial convert,
stained with the blood of his father-in-law, whom he
strangled with his own hands ; of his son, whom he
sacrificed at the lying representations of his wife ; and
of that wife herself, whom he executed in revenge for
the death of his son, was converted, we are informed
by some historians, through a perception of the beauty
and holiness of the teaching of Christ. Probably he
saw in the Cross a magical power by which he could
defeat his enemies. It was after the death of Crispus
the Caesar, Constantine's son, that Helena, whose heart
was broken by the murder of her grandson, went to
Jerusalem to visit the sacred spots and witness the
fulfilment of prophecy. On her way she delivered cap-
tives, relieved the oppressed, rewarded old soldiers,
adorned Christian churches, and arrived in the Holy
City laden with the blessings of a grateful people. And
here she discovered the Cross in the following manner.
Led by Divine intimation, she instructed her people
where to dig for it, and, after removing the earth which
the heathen had heaped round the spot, she found the
Sepulchre itself, and close beside it the three crosses
still lying together, and the tablet bearing the inscrip-
tion which Pilate ordered to be written. The true
Cross was picked out from the three by the method
commonly pursued at this period, and always attended
with satisfactory results. A noble lady lay sick with an
incurable disease ; all the crosses were brought to her
bedside, and at the application of one, that on which
our Lord suffered, she was immediately restored to
perfect health. This is the account given by the
writers of the following century ; but not one of the
contemporary writers relates the story, though Cyril,
who was Bishop of Jerusalem from the year 748,
BUILDING OF THE BASILICA. 63
alludes to the finding of the Cross. Eusebius preserves
a total silence about it — a silence which to us is con-
clusive. The following is his account of the discovery
of the Holy Sepulchre (' Life of Constantine,' iii. 25) :
' After these things the pious emperor . . . judged it
incumbent on him to render the blessed locality of our
Saviour's resurrection an object of attraction and venera-
tion to all. He issued immediate injunctions, there-
fore, for the erection in that spot of a house of prayer.
' It had been in time past the endeavour of impious
men to consign to the darkness of oblivion that divine
monument of immortality to which the radiant angel
had descended from heaven and rolled away the stone
for those who still had stony hearts. . . . This sacred
cave certain impious and godless persons had thought
to remove entirely from the eyes of men. Accordingly
they brought a quantity of earth from a distance with
much labour, and covered the entire spot ; then, having
raised this to a moderate height, they paved it with
stone, concealing the holy cave beneath this massive
mound. Then .... they prepare on the foundation
a truly dreadful sepulchre of souls, by building a gloomy
shrine of lifeless idols to the impure spirit whom they
call Venus. . . . These devices of impious men against
the truth had prevailed for a long time, nor had any
one of the governors, or military commanders, or even
of the emperors themselves, ever yet appeared with
ability to destroy those daring impieties save only our
prince ... As soon as his commands were issued these
engines of deceit were cast down from their proud
eminence to the very ground, and the dwelling-place of
error was overthrown and utterly destroyed.
' Nor did the emperor's zeal stop here; but he gave
further orders that the materials of what was thus de-
64 JERUSALEM.
stroyed should be removed and thrown from the spot
as far as possible ; and this command was speedily
executed. The emperor, however, was not satisfied
with having proceeded thus far : once more, fired with
holy ardour, he directed that the ground should be dug
up to a considerable depth, and the soil which had been
polluted by the foul impurities of demon-worship trans-
ported to a far distant place. . . . But as soon as the
original surface of the ground, beneath the covering of
earth, appeared, immediately, and contrary to all ex-
pectation, the venerable and hallowed monument of our
Saviour's resurrection was discovered. Then, indeed,
did this most holy cave present a faithful similitude of
return to life, in that, after lying buried in darkness, it
again emerged to light, and afforded to all who came
to witness the sight a clear and visible proof of the
wonders of which that spot had once been the scene.'
In other words : in the time of Constantine a report
existed that the spot then occupied by a temple of
Venus was the site of our Lord's burial-place : Con-
stantine took down the temple, meaning to build the
church upon it : then, in removing the earth, supposed
to be defiled by the idol worship which had taken place
upon it, they found to their extreme astonishment the
cave or tomb which is shown to this day. There is
no evidence at all as to the genuineness of the site.
Then came the building of the Basilica.
' First of all,* he adorned the sacred cave itself, as the
chief part of the whole work, and the hallowed monu-
ment at which the angel, radiant with light, had once
declared to all that regeneration which was first mani-
fested in the Saviour's person. This monument, there-
fore, as the chief part of the whole, the emperor's
* Euseb. ' Life of Constantine,' iii., ch. xxxiii. et seq.
BUILDING OF THE BASILICA. 65
zealous magnificence beautified with rare columns, and
profusely enriched with the most splendid decorations
of every kind.
' The next object of his attention was a space of
ground of great extent, and open to the pure air of
heaven. This he adorned with a pavement of finely-
polished stone, and enclosed it on three sides with
porticoes of great length. At the side opposite to the
sepulchres, which was the eastern side, the church it-
self was erected ; a noble work, rising to a vast height,
and of great extent, both in length and breadth. The
interior of this structure was floored with marble slabs
of various colours ; while the external surface of the
walls, which shone with polished stones exactly fitted
together, exhibited a degree of splendour in no respect
inferior to that of marble. With regard to the roof, it
was covered on the outside with lead, as a protection
against the rains of winter. But the inner part of the
roof, which was finished with sculptured fretwork,
extended in a series of connected compartments, like
a vast sea, over the whole church ; and, being overlaid
throughout with the purest gold, caused the entire
building to glitter, as it were, with rays of light.
Besides this were two porticoes on each side, with
upper and lower ranges of pillars, corresponding in
length with the church itself; and these had, also, their
roofs ornamented with gold. Of these porticoes, those
which were exterior to the church were supported by
columns of great size, while those within these rested
on piles of stone beautifully adorned on the surface.
Three gates, placed exactly east, were intended to
receive those who entered the church.
' Opposite these gates the crowning part of the whole
was the hemisphere, which rose to the very summit of
5
66 JERUSALEM.
the church. This was encircled by twelve columns
(according to the number of the apostles of our
Saviour), having their capitals embellished with silver
bowls of great size, which the emperor himself pre-
sented as a splendid offering to his god.
' In the next place, he enclosed the atrium, which
occupied the space leading to the entrance in front of
the church. This comprehended, first, the court, then
the porticoes on each side, and lastly the gates of the
court. After these, in the midst of the open market-
place, the entrance gates of the whole work, which
were of exquisite workmanship, afforded to passers-by
on the outside a view of the interior, which could not
fail to excite astonishment.'
According, therefore, to the account of Eusebius,
Constantine built one church, and only one. This was
not over the sepulchre at all, but to the east of it, and
separated from it by a space open to the heavens, the
sepulchre itself being set about with pillars.
In the transport of enthusiasm which followed the
conversion of Constantine, the Jews probably found it
convenient to keep as quiet as possible. They held at
this time exclusive possession of four large towns in
Galilee where they governed themselves, or rather sub-
mitted to the government of the Rabbis. Attempts
were made to convert them. Sylvester succeeded, it is
related, in converting a number of them by a miracle.
For a conference was held between the Christians and
Jews in the presence of the emperor himself. One of
the Rabbis asked permission that an ox should be
brought in. He whispered in the ear of the animal the
ineffable name of God, and the beast fell dead. ' Will
you believe,' asked the pope, ' if I raise him to life
again ?' They agreed. Sylvester adjured the ox, in
JULIAN THE APOSTATE. 67
the name of Christ, and if Jesus was veritably the
Messiah, to come to life again. The beast rose and
quietly went on feeding. Whereupon the Jews all went
out and were baptized.
Stories of this kind were invented whenever it seemed
well to stimulate zeal or to promote conversions. The
Jews were probably only saved from a cruel persecution
by the death of the imperial convert. Already severe
decrees had been issued. Constantine's laws enact that
any Jew who endangers the life of a Christian convert
shall be buried alive ; that no Christian shall be per-
mitted to become a Jew ; that no Jew shall possess
Christian slaves. But the laws were little lightened in
their favour by the successor of Constantine, and the
Jews made one or two local and feeble attempts to rise
in Judaea and in Alexandria. Here they had an oppor-
tunity of plundering and slaying the Christians by
joining the side of Arius.
And then there came a joyful day — too short, indeed,
for the Jews — when Julian the Apostate mounted the
throne. Julian addressed a letter to the patriarch,
annulling the aggressive laws, and promising great
things for them on his return from the East. At the
same time he issued his celebrated edict ordering the
rebuilding of the Temple of Jerusalem, the care of the
work being entrusted to his favourite, Alypius. And
now, it seemed, the restoration of the Jews was to be
accomplished in an unexpected manner, not foretold
by prophecy. The wealth of the people was showered
upon the projected work, Jews of all ages and both
sexes streamed along the roads which led to Jerusalem,
and, amid hopes more eager than any the hapless
people had yet experienced, the work was begun.
Hardly were the foundations uncovered, the joyful Jews
5—2
68 JERUSALEM.
crowding round the workmen, when flames of fire burst
forth from underground, accompanied by loud explo-
sions. The workmen fled in wild affright, and the
labours were at once suspended. Nor were they ever
renewed. The anger of Heaven was manifested in the
mysterious flames : not yet was to be the rebuilding of
the Temple. And then Julian died, cut off in early
manhood, and whatever hopes remained among the
Jews were crushed by this untimely event.
As for the miracle of the flames, it has been accounted
for by supposing the foul gas in the subterranean
passages to have caught fire. Perhaps, it has been
maliciously suggested, the flames were designed by the
Christians themselves, eager to prevent the rebuilding
of the Temple. In any case there seems no reason to
doubt the fact.
And now for three hundred years the history of
Jerusalem is purely ecclesiastical. The disputes of the
Christians, the quarrels among the bishops over the
supremacy of their sees, the bitter animosities engen-
dered by Arius, Pelagius, and other heretics and leaders
of heterodox thought, made Palestine a battlefield of
angry words, which the disputants would gladly have
turned into a battlefield of swords. The history of
their controversies does not belong to us, and may be
read in the pages of Dean Milman and the Rev. George
Williams.
The Samaritans gave a good deal of trouble in the
time of Justinian by revolting and slaughtering the
Christians in their quarter. They were, however,
quieted in the usual way, ' by punishment,' and peace
reigned over all the country. Justinian built a magni-
ficent church, of which the Mosque El Aksa perhaps
preserves some of the walls at least. It was so magni-
PEACEFUL TIMES. 69
ficent that, in the delight of his heart, the emperor
exclaimed, ' I have surpassed thee, O Solomon !' All
Syria became a nest of monasteries, nunneries, and
hermitages. In the north Simeon Stylites and his fol-
lowers perched themselves on pillars, and soothed their
sufferings with the adoration of those who came to
look at them. In Palestine were hundreds of monas-
teries, while in every cave was a hermit, on every
mountain-side was the desolate dwelling of some recluse,
and the air was heavy with the groans of those who
tortured the flesh in order to save the soul. Moreover,
the country was a great storehouse of relics. To
manufacture them, or rather to find them, was a labour
of love and of profit for the people. It was not difficult,
because bones of saints were known always to emit a
sweet and spice-like odour. They were thus readily
distinguished. No doubt the aid of history was re-
sorted to in order to determine whose bones they were.
Nor was it at all a matter to disturb the faith of the
holder if another man possessed the same relic of the
same saint. Meantime the wood of the Cross was dis-
covered to have a marvellous property — it multiplied
itself. If you cut a piece off to sell to a distinguished
pilgrim, or to send to a powerful prince for a con-
sideration, this invaluable relic, by a certain inherent
vis viva, repaired itself and became whole again, as it
had been before ; so that, if the owners had chosen, a
piece might have been cut off for every man in the
world, and yet the wood have been no smaller. But
the holders of the Cross were not so minded. So the.
time went on, and pleasant days, with leisure for theo-
logical quarrelling, were enjoyed in the Holy Land.
The litanies of the Church were heard and said night
and day, and no part of the country but resounded
7o JERUSALEM.
with the psalms and hymns of Christ, the intervals of
the services being occupied by the monks in the finding
and sale of relics, and in bitter dissensions between
those who held views contrary to themselves. It was
a land given over to monks, with a corrupt and narrow-
minded Church daily growing more corrupt and more
narrow, and when its fall took place the cup of its
corruptions appears to have been full. King Chosroes,
the Persian conqueror, advanced into Syria, and the
Jews, eager for some revenge for all their miseries,
gladly joined his victorious arms. With him would be,
without doubt, many of their own countrymen, the
brethren of the Captivity, and the Mesopotamian Jews.
Those in Tyre sent messengers to their countrymen in
Damascus anil other places, urging them to rise and
massacre the Christians. The messengers were inter-
cepted. The Christians in Tyre put the leading Jews
in prison and barred the gates. Then the insurgents
appeared outside, and began to burn and waste the
suburbs. For every Christian church burned, the
Christians beheaded a hundred prisoners and threw
their heads over the wall. The Jews burned twenty
churches, and two thousand heads were thrown over.*
Then came the news that Chosroes was marching on
Jerusalem, and all the Jews flocked with eager antici-
pations to follow him. The city, feebly defended, if at
all, by its priestly inhabitants, was taken at once.
Ninety thousand Christians are reported as having
been slaughtered (it matters little now whether the
number is correct or not ; so large a number means
nothing more definite than the indication of a great
massacre) ; the Church of the Holy Sepulchre — i.e.,
what Eusebius calls, speaking of it as a whole, the
* Milman, iii. 238.
DESTRUCTION OF BUILDINGS. 71
Temple — the Basilica with its porticoes and pillars,
and the decorations of the Sepulchre, were all de-
stroyed ; the churches built by Helena on the Mount
of Olives shared the same fate. The sacred vessels
were carried off by the conquerors ; the wood of the
true Cross was part of the booty, and the Patriarch
Zacharias was made prisoner and carried away with it.
But the wife of Chosroes was a Christian. By her inter-
cession Zacharias was well treated and the wood of the
Cross preserved. And immediately after the retreat of
the Persians one Modestus, aided by gifts from John
Eleemon of Alexandria, began to repair and rebuild, as
best he might, the ruined churches. Fifteen years later
Heraclius reconquered the provinces of Syria and
Egypt, regained the wood of the Cross, and in great
triumph, though clad in mean and humble dress, and
as a pilgrim, entered Jerusalem (September 14, a.d. 629)
bearing the wood upon his shoulder. The restoration
of the Cross was accompanied also by revenge taken
upon the Jews. Henceforth in the annals of Christen-
dom every revival of religious zeal is to be marked by
the murdering and massacring of Jews.
What little we have to say on the vexata qiiczstio of
the topography of Jerusalem will be found further on
(see Appendix) ; but on leaving this, the second period
of our history, one remark must be made, which may
help to explain the uncertainty which rests upon the
sites of the city. The destruction of the buildings,
first under Titus, and next under Chosroes, appears to
have been thorough and complete. Pillars may have
remained standing, with portions of walls ; founda-
tions, of course, remained, these being covered up and
buried in the debris of roofs, walls, and decorations.
On these foundations the Christians would rebuild,
72 JERUSALEM.
imitating as far as possible the structures that had
been destroyed. In many cases they would have the
very pillars to set up again ; in all cases they would
have the same foundations. But there was no time
between the conquest by Heraclius and that by Omar
to repair and restore the whole, and perhaps nothing
was actually built except a church over the site of the
Holy Sepulchre, formed of the materials which re-
mained of the Basilica of the Martyrium. This theory
would partly account for the silence about Justinian's
Basilica, and for the apparent discrepancy between the
statement made by Eusebius of decorations only having
been set round the Sepulchre itself, contrasted with his
admiration of the splendid Church of the Martyrium.
However all this may be, Jerusalem presents in
history three totally distinct and utterly unlike appear-
ances. It has one under Herod ; one under Justinian ;
and one under Saladin. Under the first it possesses
one building splendid enough to excite the admiration
of the whole world ; under the second it has its clus-
tered churches as splendid as the art of the time would
admit ; under the third it has its two great buildings,
the Dome of the Rock and the Church of the
Sepulchre, standing over against each other, two
enemies bound by mutual expediency to peace.
Only one of these buildings is ancient ; but some-
where in the ruins and rubbish in which the whole city
is buried lie the foundations of those which have been
destroyed.
CHAPTER IV.
THE MOHAMMEDAN CONQUEST. A.D. 632 — IIO4.
HaxpETe to Xepov(3iKn, ki ag xafxriXuHTOVv r "Ayia !
Tlcnradeg 7rdpTe rd ieod, icai alig ictpid o-/3voT^re,
JT«m elvai OkXtj/xa Qeoi) 1) U6\i vd rovpiceipy.
To the Arab wanderer on the barren and sun-stricken
plains of the Hejjaz, the well-watered, fertile land of
Syria had always been an object of admiration and
envy. As Mohammed the camel-driver sat on the hill
which overlooks Damascus, and gazed upon the rich
verdure of that garden of the East, his religious frenzy,
his visionary schemes for the unity and regeneration of
his race, had well-nigh yielded to the voluptuous fasci-
nation of the scene. But enthusiasm and ambition
triumphed : his eyes filled with tears, and exclaiming,
1 Man can enter Paradise but once,' he turned sorrow-
fully back, and in that moment changed the fortunes of
the world.
When Abu Bekr, Mohammed's first successor, had
quelled the disturbances which threatened the Muslim
power, and found himself the acknowledged head of an
immense confederation of restless and enthusiastic
warriors, thoughts of conquest naturally presented
themselves to his mind, and Syria was, as naturally, the
first quarter to which he turned.
His resolution once taken, he addressed a circular-
letter to the petty chieftains of Arabia, in which, ap-
74 JERUSALEM.
pealing to their national prejudices and newly-
awakened religious zeal, he exhorted them to wrest the
long-coveted Syria out of the Christians' hands. His
proposal was hailed with satisfaction by all those to
whom it was addressed, and in a short space of time a
considerable army was assembled around Medinah,
waiting for the caliph's orders. Yezid ibn Abi Sufiyan
was appointed commander-in-chief of the forces, and
received immediate orders to march. Nothing could
have been more moderate than the instructions which
Abu Bekr delivered to his general for the conduct of the
war. He was to respect the lives of women, children,
and aged persons : to permit no wanton mischief or
destruction of property, and to adhere religiously to
any covenant or treaty which they might make with
the opposite side.
The Emperor Heraclius made immediate prepara-
tions for averting the threatened invasion, but his
hastily-collected and ill-organized forces were defeated
in the very first engagement, while the Arabs scarcely
suffered any loss. Encouraged by the success of their
countrymen, the inhabitants of Mecca and of the
Hejjaz flocked to Abu Bekr's standard, and another
division, under ''Amer ibn el "As, the future conqueror
of Egypt, was despatched into Palestine. Abu 'Obei-
dah ibn el Jerrah, of whom we shall hear more anon,
was at the same time sent to take the command in
Syria ; but meeting with some reverses, he was in turn
superseded by Khalid ibn el Walid, who was recalled
from Irak for that purpose. This warrior's achieve-
ments against 'the Infidels ' had, during Mohammed's
lifetime, earned for him the title of ' The drawn Sword
of God,' and his name had already become a terror to
the Greeks.
INVASION THREATENED. 75
The important town of Bostra was the first to yield,
being betrayed by its governor Romanus, and the Sara-
cens thus obtained a footing in Syria, of which they
were not slow to take advantage.
The forces now marched upon Damascus, when a
change took place in the relative position of the
generals. Abu Bekr, shortly before his decease, which
happened in 634 a.d., had appointed 'Omar ibn el
Khattab his successor. The first act of the new caliph
on assuming the reins of government was to depose
Khalid from the command of the army in Syria, and to
appoint Abu 'Obeidah generalissimo in his stead.
'Omar's letter containing these commands reached
them outside Damascus, and Abu 'Obeidah, imme-
diately upon receiving it, posted himself with his
division at the Bab el Jabieh ; Khalid occupied the
eastern gate, and the two remaining chiefs, Yezid ibn
Abi Sufiyan and ''Amer ibn el ''As, having disposed their
forces on the north and south sides respectively, a strict
blockade was commenced.
For seventy days Damascus held out ; when, Khalid
having forced the eastern gate, the inhabitants retreated
to the opposite side of the city, and, finding further re-
sistance impossible, admitted Abu 'Obeidah peaceably
within the walls ; the two generals thus met in the
centre of the city.
The conquest of Damascus was followed by the
taking of Horns, after a protracted siege ; Hamath and
Ma'arrah surrendered without a blow ; Laodicea,
Jebeleh, Tarsus, Aleppo, Antioch, Csesarea, Sebastiyeh,
Nablus, Lydda, and Jaffa, one after another fell into the
hands of the invaders. But it was at the battle of
Yarmuk (a.d. 636) that the Christian power in Syria
experienced the most fatal blow.
76 JERUSALEM.
The Emperor Heraclius, driven to desperation by the
continued successes of the enemy, had determined upon
making a great and final effort for the preservation of his
empire in the East. He had accordingly raised an
immense army from all parts of his dominions, and
despatched the main body to give battle to the Sara-
cens ; while the remaining portion, which was still very
considerable in point of numbers, received instructions
to defend the seaboard of Syria.
On the approach of the Greek army the Arab generals,
who were at Horns (the ancient Emessa), retreated
toward Yarmuk, where they would be in a better posi-
tion for receiving reinforcements from home, and
Mahan (or Manuel), the Greek general, followed them
in hot pursuit. At first their progress was opposed by
the Christian Arabs, under Jebaleh ibn Aiham ; but
this chief was defeated with little loss to the Muslims,
although some men of note, and amongst them Yezid
ibn Abi Sufiyan, were taken prisoners. Abu 'Obeidah
now sent a message to the caliph, urging him to send
them immediate reinforcements, and another army of
eight hundred men was quickly levied in Arabia, and
sent to the relief of the Syrian generals. When
Mahan's army reached Yarmuk some negotiations were
opened between the Greeks and Christians. Khalid,
who acted as parlementaire on the occasion, succeeded
in obtaining the release of the prisoners ; but, as they
were unable to come to terms, both sides began to pre-
pare for the battle which was to determine the fate of
Syria.
For several days the fighting continued with fluctu-
ating fortune, but at last an incident happened which
decided the contest in favour of the Mohammedans.
A native of Horns, who happened to be staying in the
DEFEA T AT YA RMUK. 7 7
neighbourhood of Yarmuk, had hospitably entertained
some of the Grecian officers ; this kindness they
requited by the violation of his wife and the murder of
his infant son. Maddened by his wrongs, and unable
to obtain redress from the Greek general, he went over
to the Mohammedans, and, having betrayed the Chris-
tians into an ambuscade near the ford of the river, they
were attacked and completely routed by their enemies,
more than forty thousand men perishing by the sword
or being whirled away by the resistless stream and
drowned. Thus the same licentious barbarity and
corruption which, more than Arab prowess, had con-
tributed to the success of the Muslim arms at the out-
set of the war, ultimately resulted in the entire over-
throw of the Christian power in the East.
Nothing now remained to complete the triumph of
the invaders but the capture of Jerusalem itself ; accord-
ingly a little time after the decisive battle of Yarmuk
(a.d. 636), Abu 'Obeidah prepared to march upon the
Holy City. Yezid ibn Abi Sufiyan was sent forward
with a detachment of five thousand men ; Abu 'Obei-
dah himself brought up the main body a few days later,
and was joined shortly after by the division under
''Amer ibn el ''As. Desiring to afford the inhabitants
every opportunity of coming to terms without further
bloodshed, the general, before actually commencing
hostilities, halted at the ford of the Jordan, and indited
a letter to the Christian patriarch and people of yElia,
demanding their immediate submission, and requiring
them either to embrace the Mohammedan faith, or to
pay the usual tribute exacted from unbelievers. ' If
you refuse,' said he, ' you will have to contend with
people who love the taste of death more than you love
wine and swine's flesh, and rest assured that I will
7 8 JERUSALEM.
come up against you, and will not depart until I have
slain all the able-bodied men among you, and carried
off your women and children captive.'
To this message a decisive refusal was returned, and
Abu 'Obeidah, in accordance with his threat, marched
upon Jerusalem and besieged the town. The Christians,
after several unsuccessful sallies, finding themselves
reduced to great straits by the protracted siege, made
overtures for capitulation, but refused to treat with any
but the caliph himself. Having exacted a solemn oath
from them that they would hold to the proposed con-
ditions in case of his sovereign's arrival, the general
sent a message to 'Omar, inviting him to leave Medina,
and receive in person the capitulation of the town. The
messengers from Abu 'Obeidah's camp were accom-
panied by some representatives of the Christian com-
munity, and the latter were much astonished at the
stern simplicity and comparative retirement in which
the caliph was living, which but ill-accorded with their
previously conceived ideas of the great monarch who
had conquered the whole of Arabia and Syria, and
made even the emperors of Greece and Persia to
tremble on their thrones. The meeting between the
caliph and his victorious general was still further cal-
culated to impress them. 'Omar was mounted on a
camel, and attired in simple Bedawi costume — a sheep-
skin cloak and coarse cotton shirt ; Abu 'Obeidah was
mounted on a small she-camel, an ' abba ' or mantle of
haircloth, folded over the saddle, and a rude halter of
twisted hair forming her only trappings ; he wore his
armour, and carried his bow slung across his shoulder.
Abu 'Obeidah, dismounting from his beast, approached
the caliph in a respectful attitude ; but the latter, dis-
mounting almost at the same moment, stooped to kiss
'OMAR AND ABU OBEIDAH. 79
his general's feet, whereupon there ensued a contest of
humility, which was only put an end to by the two
great men mutually consenting to embrace after the
usual fashion of Arab sheikhs when meeting upon equal
terms. A story of 'Omar's compensating a man for
some grapes which his followers had heedlessly plucked
as they came in from their thirsty ride, and several
other instances of his great integrity and unassuming
manners, are related by the Arab historians. No doubt
these incidents were, to some extent, the offspring of
' the pride that apes humility ;' yet the Muslim sovereign
really seems to have possessed some good and amiable
qualities.
'Omar pitched his camp upon the Mount of Olives,
where he was immediately visited by a messenger from
the Patriarch of Jerusalem, who sent to welcome him
and renew the offer of capitulation. This patriarch was
named Sophronius, and was a native of Damascus.
He was as remarkable for his zeal and erudition as
for the purity of his life, which presented a striking
contrast to the prevailing immorality of the age. The
patriarch's observation, upon first setting eyes on
'Omar, was anything but complimentary, though, per-
haps, justified by the meanness of the caliph's attire :
1 Verily,' said he, ' this is the abomination of Desola-
tion, spoken of by Daniel the Prophet, standing in the
Holy Place.' The commander of the faithful was
rather flattered by the remark, which the Arab historians
have construed into an admission on the part of
Sophronius that the conquest of 'Omar was foretold in
Holy Writ. The armistice previously granted having
been confirmed, and the personal safety of the patriarch
and his immediate followers being guaranteed, that
dignitary set out with a large company of attendants
80 JERUSALEM.
for the caliph's tent, and proceeded to confer with him
personally, and to draw up the articles of peace.
These terms, exacted from Jerusalem in common with
the other conquered cities, were, in spite of 'Omar's
boasted generosity and equity, extremely hard and
humiliating for the Christians. They ran as follows : —
The Christians shall enjoy security both of person and
property, the safety of their churches shall be, more-
over, guaranteed, and no interference is to be permitted
on the part of the Mohammedans with any of their
religious exercises, houses, or institutions ; provided
only that such churches, or religious institutions, shall
be open night and day to the inspection of the Muslim
authorities. All strangers and others are to be per-
mitted to leave the town if they think fit, but anyone
electing to remain shall be subject to the herein-
mentioned stipulations. No payment shall be exacted
from anyone until after the gathering in of his harvest.
Mohammedans are to be treated everywhere with the
greatest respect ; the Christians must extend to them
the rights of hospitality, rise to receive them, and accord
them the first place of honour in their assemblies.
The Christians are to build no new churches, convents,
or other religious edifices, either within or without the
city, or in any other part of the Muslim territory ; they
shall not teach their children the Cor'an, but, on the
other hand, no one shall be prevented from embracing
the Mohammedan religion. No public exhibition of
any kind of the Christian religion is to be permitted.
They shall not in any way imitate the Muslims, either
in dress or behaviour, nor make use of their language
in writing or engraving, nor adopt Muslim names or
appellations. They shall not carry arms, nor ride
astride their animals, nor wear or publicly exhibit the
TERMS OF CAPITULATION. 81
sign of the cross. They shall not make use of bells ;
nor strike the ndkus (wooden gong), except with a
suppressed sound ; nor shall they place their lamps in
public places, nor raise their voices in lamentation for
the dead. They shall shave the front part of the head,
and gird up their dress ; and lastly, they shall never
intrude into any Muslim's house on any pretext what-
ever. To these conditions 'Omar added the following
clause to be accepted by the Christians : That no
Christian should strike a Muslim, and that if they
failed to comply with any single one of the previous
stipulations, they should confess that their lives were
justly forfeit, and that they were deserving of the
punishment inflicted upon rebellious subjects.
When these terms had been agreed upon by both
sides and the treaty signed and sealed, 'Omar requested
the patriarch to lead him to the Mosque (Masjid, or
1 place of adoration ') of David. The patriarch ac-
ceding to this request, 'Omar, accompanied by four
thousand attendants, was conducted by him into the
Holy City. They first proceeded to the church of the
Holy Sepulchre,* which the patriarch pointed out as
the site of David's temple. ' Thou liest,' said 'Omar,
curtly, and was proceeding to leave the spot, when the
hour of prayer arrived, and the caliph declared his
intention of retiring to perform his religious duties.
The patriarch invited him to pray where he stood in
the church itself. This 'Omar refused to do, and was
next led to the church of Constantine, where a sejjddeh,
or prayer mat, was spread for him. Declining this
* In the original El Camdmah, 'dung;' which is explained a
little further on to be a designed corruption of the word Caiyd?nah,
' Anastasis.' These words are at the present day applied by the
Muslim and Christian population respectively to the church of
the Holy Sepulchre.
6
82 JERUSALEM.
accommodation also, the caliph went outside the
church, and prayed alone upon the door-steps. When
asked the reason for his objection to pray within the
church, he told the patriarch that he had expressly
avoided doing so, lest his countrymen should afterwards
make his act a precedent and an excuse for confiscat-
ing the property. So anxious was he not to give the
least occasion for the exercise of injustice, that he
called for pen and paper, and then and there wrote a
document, which he delivered to the patriarch, forbid-
ding Muslims to pray even upon the steps of the
church, except it were one at a time, and strictly
prohibiting them from calling the people to prayer at
the spot, or in any way using it as one of their own
mosques.
This honourable observance of the stipulations con-
tained in the treaty, and careful provision against
future aggression on the part of his followers, cannot
but excite our admiration for the man. In spite of the
great accession to our knowledge of the literature of
this period which has been made during the last
century, we doubt if the popular notions respecting the
Saracen conquerors of Jerusalem have been much
modified, and many people still regard them as a fierce
and inhuman horde of barbarous savages, while the
Crusaders are judged only by the saintly figures that lie
cross-legged upon some old cathedral brasses, and are
looked upon as beau-ideals of chivalry and gentle
Christian virtue. But we shall have occasion to recur
to this subject further on.
Leaving the church of Constantine, they next visited
that called Sion, which the patriarch again pointed out
as the Mosque of David, and again 'Omar gave him
the lie. After this they proceeded to the Masjid of
THE MOSQUE OF DA VID. 83
Jerusalem, and halted at the gate called Bab Mohammed.
Now, the dung in the mosque had settled on the steps
of the door in such quantities that it came out into the
street in which the door is situated, and nearly clung
to the roofed archway of the street. Hereupon the
patriarch said, ' We shall never be able to enter unless
we crawl upon our hands and knees.' ' Well,' replied
the caliph, ' on our hands and knees be it.' So the
patriarch led the way, followed by 'Omar and the
rest of the party, and they crawled along until they
came out upon the courtyard of the Temple, where
they could stand upright. Then 'Omar, having sur-
veyed the place attentively for some time, suddenly
exclaimed : ' By Him in whose hands my soul is, this
is the Mosque of David, from which the prophet told
us that he ascended into heaven. He (upon whom be
peace) gave us a circumstantial account thereof, and
especially mentioned the fact that we had found upon
the Sakhrah a quantity of dung which the Christians
had thrown there out of spite to the children of Israel.'*
With these words he stooped down and began to brush
off the dung with his sleeve, and his example being
followed by the other Mussulmans of the party, they
soon cleared all the dung away, and brought the
Sakhrah to light. Having done so, he forbade them
* It needed no prophetic inspiration to acquaint Mohammed
with this fact. The site of the Temple was not only well known to
the Christians, but was systematically defiled by them out of abhor-
rence for the Jews. Eutychius expressly tells us that — 'when
Helena, the mother of Constantine, had built churches at Jerusalem,
the site of the rock and its neighbourhood had been laid waste, and
so left. But the Christians heaped dirt on the rock so that there
was a large dunghill over it. And so the Romans had neglected it,
nor given it that honour which the Israelites had been wont to pay
it, and had not built a church above it, because it had been said by
our Lord Jesus Christ in the Holy Gospel, " Behold, your house
shall be left unto you desolate.'"
6—2
84 JERUSALEM.
to pray there until three showers of rain had fallen
upon it.
Another account relates that, on conquering the city,
'Omar sent for Ka'ab, a Jew who had been converted
to Mohammedanism during the prophet's lifetime, and
said to him, ' Oh, Abu Ishak, dost thou know the site
of the Sakhrah ?' ' Yes,' replied Ka'ab, 'it is distant
such and such a number of cubits from the wall which
runs parallel to the Wady Jehennum ; it is at the
present time used for a dunghill.' Digging at the spot
indicated, they found the Sakhrah as Ka'ab had de-
scribed. Then 'Omar asked Ka'ab where he would
advise him to place the mosque ? Ka'ab answered, ' I
should place it behind the Sakhrah, so that the two
Kiblahs,* namely, that of Moses and that of Mo-
hammed, may be made identical.' ' Ah,' said 'Omar,
' thou leanest still to Jewish notions, I see ; the best
place for the mosque is in front of it,' and he built it in
front accordingly.
Another version of this conversation is, that when
Ka'ab proposed to set the praying-place behind the
Sakhrah, 'Omar reproved him, as has just been stated,
for his Jewish proclivities, and added, ' Nay, but we
will place it in the sudr (" breast or forepart "), for the
prophet ordained that the Kiblah of our mosques
should be in the forepart. I am not ordered,' said he,
* to turn to the Sakhrah, but to the Ka'abah.' After-
wards, when 'Omar had completed the conquest of
Jerusalem, and cleared away the dirt from the Sakhrah,
and the Christians had entered into their engagements
to pay tribute, the Muslims changed the name of the
great Christian church from Caiydmah (Anastasis) to
* The Kiblah is a ' point of adoration,' that is, the direction in
which Mecca lies. In the Mohammedan mosques it is indicated
by a small niche called a mihrdb.
THE MOSQUE OF 'OMAR. 85
Camdmah (dung), to remind them of their indecent
treatment of the holy place, and to further glorify the
Sakhrah itself.
The mosque erected by 'Omar is described by an
early pilgrim who saw it as a simple square building
of timber, capable of holding three thousand people,
and constructed over the ruins of some more ancient
edifice.
The annals of the Mohammedan Empire during the
next forty-eight years, although fraught with stirring
events, bear but little on the history of Jerusalem itself;
and although the visit of 'Omar had impressed the
followers of the Cor'an with the idea that they pos-
sessed an equal interest in the Holy City with the
adherents of the Law and the Gospel, still their devo-
tion to the Temple of Mecca and their prophet's tomb
at Medina was too deeply rooted to leave them much
reverence for the Masjid el Aksa. But political exi-
gencies did what religious enthusiasm had failed to
accomplish, and in 684 a.d., in the reign of 'Abd el
Melik, the ninth successor of Mohammed, and the fifth
caliph of the House of Omawiyah, events happened
which once more turned people's attention to the City
of David.
For eight years the Mussulman Empire had been dis-
tracted by factions and party quarrels. The inhabitants
of the two holy cities, Mecca and Medina, had risen
against the authority of the legitimate caliphs, and had
proclaimed 'Abdallah ibn Zobeir their spiritual and
temporal head. Yezid and Ma'awiyeh had in vain at-
tempted to suppress the insurrection ; the usurper had
contrived to make his authority acknowledged through-
out Arabia and the African provinces, and had estab-
lished the seat of his government at Mecca itself. 'Abd
86 JERUSALEM.
el Melik trembled for his own rule ; year after year
crowds of pilgrims would visit the Ka'abah, and Ibn
Zobeir's religious and political influence would thus
become disseminated throughout the whole of Islam.
In order to avoid these consequences, and at the same
time to weaken his rival's prestige, 'Abd el Melik con-
ceived the plan of diverting men's minds from the
pilgrimage to Mecca, and inducing them to make the
pilgrimage to Jerusalem instead. This was an easier
task than might have been at first supposed.
The frequent mention of Jerusalem in the Cor'an, its
intimate connection with those Scriptural events which
Mohammed taught as part and parcel of his own faith,
and, lastly, the prophet's pretended night journey to
Heaven from the Holy Rock of Jerusalem — these were
points which appealed directly to the Mohammedan
mind, and to all these considerations was added the
charm of novelty — novelty, too, with the sanction of
antiquity — and we need not, therefore, wonder that
the caliph's appeal to his subjects met with a ready and
enthusiastic response.
Having determined upon this course, he sent circular
letters to every part of his dominions, couched in the
following terms :
* 'Abd el Melik desiring to build a dome over the
Holy Rock of Jerusalem, in order to shelter the Muslims
from the inclemency of the weather, and, moreover,
wishing to restore the Masjid, requests his subjects to
acquaint him with their wishes on the matter, as he
would be sorry to undertake so important a matter
without consulting their opinion.'
Letters of approval and congratulation flowed in
upon the caliph from all quarters, and he accordingly
assembled a number of the most skilled artisans, and
l ABD EL MELIK. 87
set apart for the proposed work a sum of money equiv-
alent in amount to the whole revenue of Egypt for
seven years. For the safe custody of this immense
treasure he built a small dome, the same which exists
at the present day to the east of the Cubbet es Sakhrah,
and is called Cubbet es Silsilah. This little dome he
himself designed, and personally gave the architect in-
structions as to its minutest details. When finished,
he was so pleased with the general effect that he ordered
the Cubbet es Sakhrah itself to be built on precisely
the same model.
Having completed his treasure-house, and filled it
with wealth, he appointed Rija ibn Haiyah el Kendi
controller thereof, with Yezid ibn Sallam, a native of
Jerusalem, as his coadjutor. These two persons were
to make all disbursements necessary for the works, and
were enjoined to expend the entire amount upon them,
regulating the outlay as occasion might require. They
commenced with the erection of the Cubbeh, beginning
on the east side and finishing at the west, until the
whole was so perfect that no one was able to suggest
an addition or an improvement. Similarly in the build-
ings in the fore part of the Masjid,* that is, on the
south side, they worked from east to west, commencing
with the wall by which is the Mehd 'Aisa (cradle of
Jesus), and carrying it on the spot now known as the
Jam'i el Magharibeh.
On the completion of the work, Rija and Yezid ad-
dressed the following letter to 'Abd el Melik, who was
then at Damascus :
' In accordance with the orders given by the Com-
mander of the Faithful, the building of the Dome of
the Rock of Jerusalem and the Masjid el Aksa is now
* See p. 92.
88 JERUSALEM.
so complete that nothing more can be desired. After
paying all the expenses of the building there still
remains in hand a hundred thousand dinars of the sum
originally deposited with us; this amount the Com-
mander of the Faithful will expend in such manner as
may seem good to him.'
The caliph replied that they were at liberty to appro-
priate the sum to themselves in consideration of their
services in superintending the financial department of
the works. The two commissioners, however, declined
this proposition, and again offered to place it at the
caliph's disposal, with the addition of the ornaments
belonging to their women and the surplus of their own
private property. 'Abd el Melik, on receipt of their
answer, bade them melt up the money in question, and
apply it to the ornamentation of the Cubbeh. This
they accordingly did, and the effect is said to have
been so magnificent that it was impossible for any to
keep his eyes fixed on the dome, owing to the quantity
of gold with which it was ornamented. They then
prepared a covering of felt and leather, which they put
upon it in winter time to protect it from the wind, and
rain, and snow. Rija and Yezid also surrounded the
Sakhrah itself with a latticed screen of ebony, and
hung brocaded curtains behind the screen between the
columns. It is said that in the days of 'Abd el Melik
a precious pearl, the horn of Abraham's ram, and the
crown of the Khosroes, were attached to the chain
which is suspended in the centre of the dome, but
when the caliphate passed into the hands of the Beni
Hashem they removed these relics to Ka'abah.
When the Masjid was quite completed and thrown
open for public service, no expense or trouble was
spared to make it as attractive as possible to the
COMPLETION OF THE MAS J ID. 89
worshippers. Every morning a number of attendants
were employed in pounding saffron, and in making per-
fumed water with which to sprinkle the mosque, as
well as in preparing and burning incense. Servants were
also sent into the Hammam Suleiman (' Solomon's
bath') to cleanse it out thoroughly. Having done this,
they used to go into the store-room in which the
Khaliik* was kept, and changing their clothes for fresh
ones of various costly stuffs, and putting jewelled girdles
round their waists, and taking the Khaluk in their
hands, they proceeded to dab it all over the Sakhrah as
far as they could reach ; and when they could not
reach with their hands they washed their feet and
stepped upon the Sakhrah itself until they had dabbed
it all over, and emptied the pots of Khaluk. Then
they brought censers of gold and silver filled with
'ud (perfumed aloes wood) and other costly kinds of
incense, with which they perfumed the entire place,
first letting down the curtains round all the pillars, and
walking round them until the incense filled the place
between them and the dome, and then fastening them
up again so that the incense escaped and filled the
entire building, even penetrating into the neighbouring
bazaar, so that anyone who passed that way could
smell it. After this proclamation was made in the
public market, ' The Sakhrah is now open for public
worship/ and people would run in such crowds to pray
there, that two rcka'as was as much as most men
could accomplish, and it was only a very few who could
succeed in performing four.
So strongly was the building perfumed with the
incense, that one who had been into it could at once be
detected by the odour, and people used to say as they
A species of aromatic plant rather larger than saffron.
90 JERUSALEM.
sniffed it, ' Ah ! So and So has been in the Sakhrah.'
So great, too, was the throng, that people could not
perform their ablutions in the orthodox manner,
but were obliged to content themselves with washing
the soles of their feet with water, wiping them with
green sprigs of myrtle, and drying them with their
pocket-handkerchiefs. The doors were all locked, ten
chamberlains were posted at each door, and the mosque
was only opened twice a week — namely, on Mondays
and Fridays ; on other days none but the attendants
were allowed access to the buildings.
Ibn 'Asakir, who visited Jerusalem early in the
twelfth century of the Christian era, tells us that there
were 6,000 planks of wood in the Masjid used for roofing
and flooring, exclusive of wooden pillars. It also
contained fifty doors, amongst which were : Bab el
Cortobi (the gate of the Cordovan), Bab Daud (the
gate of David), Bab Suleiman (the gate of Solomon),
Bab Mohammed (the gate of Mohammed), Bab Hettah
(the gate of Remission*), Bab el Taubah (the gate of
Reconciliation), where God was reconciled to David
after his sin with Bathsheba, Bab er Rahmeh (the gate
of Mercy), six gates called Abwab al Asbat (the gates of
the tribes), Bab el Walid (the gate of Wah'd), Bab el
Hashimi (the gate of the Hashem family), Bab el
Khidhir (the gate of St. George or Elias), and Bab es
Sekinah (the gate of the Shekina). There were also 600
marble pillars ; seven mihrabs (or prayer niches) ;
385 chains for lamps, of which 230 were in the Masjid
el Aksa, and the rest in the Cubbet es Sakhrah ; the
accumulative length of the chains was 4,000 cubits, and
their weight 43,000 ratals (Syrian measure). There
* Cf. Cor'an, cap. ii. v. 55, 'Enter the gate with adoration, and
say " Remission."'
COMPLETION OF THE MAS J ID.
were also 5,000 lamps, in addition to which they used to
light 1,000 wax candles every Friday, and on the night
of the middle months Rejeb, Sha'ban and Ramadhan,
as well as on the nights of the two great festivals.
There were fifteen domes, or oratories, exclusive of the
Cubbet es Sakhrah; and on the roof of the mosque
itself were 7,700 strips of lead, and the weight of each
strip was 70 Syrian ratals. This was exclusive of the
lead which was upon the Cubbet es Sakhrah. There
were four-and-twenty large cisterns in the Masjid, and
four minarets — three in a line on the west side of the
Masjid, and one over the Babel Esbat.
All the above work was done in the days of 'Abd el
Melik ibn Merwan. The same prince appointed three
hundred perpetual attendants to the mosque, slaves
purchased with a fifth of the revenue ; and whenever
one of these died, there was appointed in his stead
either his son, grandson, or some one of the family, and
the office was made hereditary so long as the generation
lasted. There were also Jewish servants employed in
the Masjid, and these were exempted, on account of
their services, from payment of the capitation-tax ;
originally they were ten in number, but, as their
families sprung up, they increased to twenty. Their
business was to sweep out the Masjid all the year
round, and to clean out the lavatories round about it.
Besides these, there were ten Christian servants also
attached to the place in perpetuity, and transmitting
the office to their children ; their business was to brush
the mats, and to sweep out the conduits and cisterns.
A number of Jewish servants were also employed in
making glass lamps, candelabras, etc. (These and
their families were also exempted in perpetuity from
tax, and the same privilege was accorded to those who
made the lampwicks.)
92 JERUSALEM.
Ibn 'Asakir informs us that the length of the Masjid
el Aksa was 755 cubits, and the breadth 465 cubits, the
standard employed being the royal cubit. The author
of the ' Muthir el Gharam ' declares that he found on
the inner surface of the north wall of the Haram, over
the door, which is behind the Bab ed Dowaidariyeh, a
stone tablet, on which the length of the Masjid was re-
corded as 784 cubits, and its breadth as 455 ; it did not,
however, state whether or no the standard employed
was the royal cubit. The same author informs us that
he himself measured the Masjid with a rope, and found
that in length it was 683 cubits on the east side, and
650 on the west ; and in breadth it was 438 cubits,
exclusive of the breadth of the wall.
'Abdallah Yacut el Hamawi, a Christian Arab writer
of the twelfth century, tells us that the substructure of
the Jewish Temple served for the foundations of 'Abd
el Melik's edifice, and that that monarch built a wall of
smaller stones upon the more massive ancient blocks.
The great substructures at the south-west angle are
said to be the work of 'Abd el Melik, who is reported to
have made them in order to obtain a platform on which
to erect the El Aksa.*
In order to understand the native accounts of the
sacred area at Jerusalem, it is essentially necessary to
keep in mind the proper application of the various
names by which it is spoken of. When the Masjid el
Aksa is mentioned, that name is usually supposed
to refer to the well-known mosque on the south side of
the Haram, but such is not really the case. The latter
building is called El Jami el Aksa, or simply El Aksa,
and the substructures are called El Aksa el Kadimeh
(the ancient Aksa), while the title El Masjid el Aksa is
* Vide M. de Vogue, p. 76.
COMPLETION OF THE MASJID. 93
applied to the whole sanctuary. The word jdmH is
exactly equivalent in sense to the Greek awaycoyrj, and
is applied only to the church or building in which the
worshippers congregate. Masjid, on the other hand, is
a much more general term ; it is derived from the verb
sejada, ' to adore,' and is applied to any spot, the sacred
character of which would especially incite the visitor to
an act of devotion. Our word mosque is a corruption of
masjid, but it is usually misapplied, as the building is
never so designated, although the whole area on which
it stands may be so spoken of.
The Jam'i el Aksa, Jam'i el Magharibeh, etc., are
mosques in our sense of the word, but the entire Haram
is a masjid. This will explain what is meant by saying
that 'Omar, after visiting the churches of the Anastasis,
Sion, etc., was taken to the 'Masjid' of Jerusalem ;
and will account for the statement of Ibn el 'Asakir
and others that the Masjid el Aska measured over six
hundred cubits in length — that is, the length of the
whole Haram area. The name Masjid el Aksa is
borrowed from the passage in the Cor'an (xvii. i),
where allusion is made to the pretended ascent of
Mohammed into heaven from the Temple of Jerusalem :
'Praise be unto Him who transported His servant by
night from El Masjid el Haram (i.e., 'the Sacred place
of Adoration,' at Mecca) to El Masjid el Aksa (i.e., 'the
Remote place of Adoration' at Jerusalem), the pre-
cincts of which we have blessed,' etc. The title El
Aksa, 'the Remote,' according to the Mohammedan
doctors, is applied to the Temple of Jerusalem, ' either
because of its distance from Mecca, or because it is
in the centre of the earth.' The title Haram, or
' sanctuary,' it enjoys in common with those of Mecca,
Medina, and Hebron.
94 JERUSALEM.
As M. de Vogue has pointed out, the Cubbet es
Sakhrah, notwithstanding its imposing proportions, is
not, properly speaking, a mosque, and is not con-
structed with a view to the celebration of public
prayers and services. It is only an oratory, one of the
numerous cubbehs with which the Haram es Sherif
abounds — domed edifices that mark the various spots to
which traditions cling. The form is, in fact, almost
identical with that of an ordinary Muslim welt, or
saint's tomb. El Jam'i el Aksa is, on the other hand,
a mosque designed expressly for the accommodation of
a large congregation, assembled for public worship, and
resembling in its architectural details the celebrated
mosques of Constantinople or elsewhere.
The erection of the Cubbet es Sakhrah, Jam'i el
Aksa, and the restoration of the temple area by 'Abd el
Melik, are recorded in a magnificent Cufic inscription
in mosaic, running round the colonnade of the first-
mentioned building. The name of 'Abd el Melik has
been purposely erased, and that of 'Abdallah el Mamun
fraudulently substituted ; but the shortsighted forger
has omitted to erase the date, as well as the name of
the original founder, and the inscription still remains
a contemporary record of the munificence of 'Abd el
Melik. The translation is as follows :
' In the name of God, the Merciful, the Com-
passionate ! There is no god but God alone ; He hath
no partner ; His is the kingdom, His the praise. He
giveth life and death, for He is the Almighty. In the
name of God the Merciful, the Compassionate ! There
is no god but God alone ; He hath no partner ;
Mohammed is the Apostle of God ; pray God for him.
The servant of God 'Abdallah, the Imam al Mamun
[read 'Abd el Melik] , Commander of the Faithful,
INSCRIPTION OF THE FOUNDER. 95
built this dome in the year 72 (a.d. 691). May God accept
it at his hand, and be content with him, Amen ! The
restoration is complete, and to God be the praise. In
the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate !
There is no god but God alone ; He hath no partner.
Say He is the one God, the Eternal ; He neither
begetteth nor is begotten, and there is no one like Him.
Mohammed is the Apostle of God ; pray God for him.
In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate !
There is no god but God, and Mohammed is the Apostle
of God ; pray God for him. Verily, God and His
angels, pray for the Prophet. Oh ye who believe,
pray for him, and salute ye him with salutations of
peace. In the name of God, the Merciful, the Com-
passionate ! There is no god but God alone ; to Him
be praise, who taketh not unto Himself a son, and to
whom none can be a partner in His kingdom, and
whose patron no lower creature can be ; magnify ye
Him. Mohammed is the Apostle of God ; God, and
His angels, and apostles pray for him ; and peace be
upon him, and the mercy of God. In the name of
God, the Merciful, the Compassionate ! There is no
god but God alone ; He hath no partner ; His is the
kingdom, and His the praise ; He giveth life and
death, for He is Almighty. Verily, God and his
angels, pray for the Prophet. Oh ye who believe,
pray for him and salute him with salutations of
peace. Oh ye who have received the Scriptures, ex-
ceed not the bounds in your religion, and speak not aught
but truth concerning God. Verily, Jesus Christ, the son
of Mary, is the Apostle of God, and His word which He
cast over Mary, and a spirit from Him. Then believe
in God and His apostles, and do not say there are
three gods ; forbear, and it will be better for you. God
JERUSALEM.
is but One. Far be it from Him that He should have
a son. To Him belongeth whatsoever is in the heaven
and in the earth, and God is a sufficient protector.
Christ does not disdain to be a servant of God, nor do
the angels who are near the throne. Whosoever,
then, disdains His service, and is puffed up with pride,
God shall gather them all at the last day. O God,
pray for Thy apostle Jesus, the son of Mary ; peace be
upon me the day I am born, and the day I die, and the
day I am raised to life again. That is Jesus, the son
of Mary, concerning whom ye doubt. It is not for God
to take unto Himself a son ; far be it from Him. If
He decree a thing, He doth but say unto it, Be, and it
is. God is my Lord and yours. Serve Him, this is the
right way. God hath testified that there is no god but
He, and the angels, and beings endowed with know-
ledge (testify it), He executeth righteousness. There is
no God but He, the Mighty, the Wise. Verily, the
true religion in the sight of God is Islam. Say praise
be to God, who taketh not unto Himself a son ; whose
partner in the kingdom none can be ; whose patron no
lower creature can be. Magnify ye Him !'*
'Abd el Melik died on the 8th of September, 705 a.d.,
and was succeeded by his son Walid. During that
prince's reign the eastern portion of the Masjid fell
* This inscription, which is composed chiefly of Coranic texts, is
interesting both from an historical point of view, and as showing the
spirit in which Christianity was regarded by the Muslims of these
early times. It has never before been published in its entirety. Its
preservation during the subsequent Christian occupation of the city
may occasion some surprise, as the Latins (by which the Cubbet es
Sakhrah was turned into a church) could not but have been offended
at quotations which so decidedly deny the Divinity of Christ and the
doctrine of the Trinity. It is probable, however, that the Curie
character, in which it is written, was as unintelligible to the
Christian natives of that time, as it is now, even to most of the
learned Muslims of the present day.
EARTHQUAKE. 97
into ruins ; and as there were no funds in the treasury
available for the purpose of restoring it, Walid ordered
the requisite amount to be levied from his subjects.
On the death of Walid, the caliphate passed into the
hands of his brother Suleiman, who was at Jerusalem
when the messengers came to him to announce his
accession to the throne.
He received them in the Masjid itself, sitting in one
of the domes in the open court — probably in that now
called Cubbet Suleiman, which is behind the Cubbet es
Sakhrah, near the Bab ed Duweidariyel. He died at
Jerusalem, after a short reign of three years, and was
succeeded (a.d. 717) by 'Omar ibn Abd el 'Aziz, sur-
named El Mehdi. It is related that this prince dis-
missed the Jews who had been hitherto employed in
lighting up the sanctuary, and put in their places some
of the slaves before-mentioned as having been pur-
chased by 'Abd el Melik, at the price of a fifth of the
treasury (El Khums). One of these last came to the
caliph, and begged him to emancipate him.
' I have no power to do so,' replied 'Omar. ' But
look you, if you choose to go of your own accord, I
claim no right over a single hair of your head.'
In the reign of the second 'Abbasside caliph, Abu
Ja'afer Mansur (a.d. 755), a severe earthquake shook
Jerusalem ; and the southern portion of the Haram es
Sherif, standing as it did upon an artificially-raised
platform, suffered most severely from the shock. In
order to meet the expense of repairing the breaches
thus made, the caliph ordered the gold and silver plates,
with which the munificence of 'Abd el Melik had
covered the doors of the Masjid, to be stripped off,
converted into coin, and applied to the restoration of
the edifice. The part restored was not, however, des-
7
98 JERUSALEM.
tined to last long ; for during the reign of El Mehdi,
his son and successor, the mosque had again fallen into
ruins, and was rebuilt by the caliph upon a different
plan, the width being increased at the expense of the
length.
The foundation, by the Caliph Mansur, of the im-
perial city of Baghdad, upon the banks of the Tigris,
and the removal of the government from Damascus
thither, was very prejudicial to the interests of the
Christian population of Syria, who were now treated
with great harshness, deprived of the privileges granted
them by former monarchs, and subjected to every form
of extortion and persecution.
In 786 the celebrated Harun er Rashid, familiar to
us as the hero of the 'Arabian Nights,' succeeded his
father, El Hadi, in the caliphate.
This prince was illustrious alike for his military suc-
cesses and his munificent patronage of learning and
science ; and although his glory is sullied by one act
of barbarity and jealous meanness — the murder of his
friend and minister, Ja'afer el Barmaki, and the whole
of the Barmecide family — he seems to have well
merited his title of Er Rashid, ' the Orthodox,' or
< Upright.'
The cordial relations between the East and West,
brought about by his alliance with the Emperor Char-
lemagne, were productive of much good to the Christian
community in Syria and Palestine, and more especially in
Jerusalem, where churches were restored, and hospices
and other charitable institutions founded, by the muni-
ficence of the Frank emperor.
In the year 796 new and unexpected troubles came
upon Palestine. A civil war broke out between two
of the border-tribes — the Beni Yoktan and the Ismael-
THE ARAB CHARACTER. 99
iyeh — and the country was devastated by hordes of
savage Bedawin. The towns and villages of the west
were either sacked or destroyed, the roads were
rendered impassable by hostile bands, and those places
which had not suffered from the incursions of the
barbarians were reduced to a state of protracted siege.
Even Jerusalem itself was threatened, and, but for the
bravery of its garrison, would have again been pillaged
and destroyed. The monasteries in the Jordan valley
experienced the brunt of the Arabs' attack, and one
after another was sacked ; and, last of all, that of Mar
Saba — which, from its position, had hitherto been
deemed impregnable — succumbed to a blockade, and
many of the inmates perished.
On the death of Harun, his three sons contended
fiercely for the throne ; the Mussulman empire was
again involved in civil dissensions, and Palestine, as
usual, suffered most severely in the wars. The churches
and monasteries in and around Jerusalem were again
laid waste, and the great mass of the Christian popula-
tion was obliged to seek safety in flight.
El Mamun, having at last triumphed over his brothers
and established himself firmly in the caliphate, applied
his mind with great ardour to the cultivation of
literature, art, and science. It was at his expense, and
by his orders, that the works of the Greek philosophers
were translated into the Arabic language by 'Abd el
Messiah el Kendi, who, although a Christian by birth
and profession, enjoyed a great reputation at the
Court of Baghdad, where he was honoured with the
title of Feilsuf el Islam — ' The Philosopher of Moham-
medanism.'
Since their establishment on the banks of the Tigris,
the Abbasside caliphs had departed widely from the
7—2
ioo JERUSALEM.
ancient traditions of their race : and the warlike ardour
and stern simplicity, which had won so vast an empire
for 'Omar and his contemporaries, presently gave way
to effeminate luxury and useless extravagance. But
although this change was gradually undermining their
power, and tending to the physical degeneracy of the
race, it was not unproductive of good ; and the
immense riches and careless liberality of the caliphs
attracted to the Court of Baghdad the learned men
of the Eastern world. The Arabs were not an inven-
tive, but they were eminently an acquisitive, people,
and,
' Grsecia capta ferum victorem cepit, ;
the nations conquered by their arms were made to yield
up intellectual as well as material spoils. They had
neither art, literature, nor science of themselves, and
yet we are indebted to them for all three ; for what
others produced and neglected, they seized upon and
made their own. Born in the black shapeless ' tents of
Shem,' and nursed amidst monotonous scenery, the
Arabs could conceive no grander structure than the
massive tetragonal Ka'abah ; but Persia was made to
supply them with the graceful forms and harmonious
colours suggested by the flower-gardens of Iran.* The
art of painting, cultivated with so much success in
Persia even at the present day, found but little favour
with the iconoclast followers of Mohammed ; but its
influence is seen in the perfection to which mural
decoration, writing, and illumination have been brought
by the professors of Islam. Caligraphy has been
cultivated in the East to an extent which can be
* Nearly all the technical terms used in Arab architecture are
Persian— an additional proof that the so-called Saracenic style is of
foreign and not native origin.
RESTORATION OF THE HARAM BUILDINGS. 101
scarcely conceived in this country ; and the rules which
govern that science are, though more precise, founded
on aesthetic principles as correct as those of fine art-
criticism here.
A people whose hereditary occupation was war and
plunder, and who looked upon commerce as a degrad-
ing and slavish pursuit, were not likely to make much
progress, even in simple arithmetic ; yet, when it was
no longer a mere question of dividing the spoils of a
caravan, but of administering the revenues and regulat-
ing the frontiers of conquered countries, then the
Saracens both appreciated and employed the exact
mathematical sciences of India.
* The Arabs' registers are the verses of their bards,'
was the motto of their Bedawin forefathers, but the
rude lays of border-warfare and pastoral life were soon
found unsuited to their more refined ideas ; while even
the cultivation of their own rich and complex language
was insufficient to satisfy their literary taste and crav-
ing for intellectual exercise. Persia therefore was
again called in to their aid, and the rich treasures of
historical and legendary lore were ransacked and laid
bare, while later on the philosophy and speculative
science of the Greeks were eagerly sought after and
studied.
Jerusalem also profited by Mamun's peaceful rule
and aesthetic tastes, and the Haram buildings were
thoroughly restored. So completely was this done that
the Masjid may be also said to owe its present existence
to El Mamun ; for had it not been for his care and
munificence, it must have fallen into irreparable decay.
I have already mentioned the substitution of El Mamun's
name for that of the original founder, 'Abd el Melik, in
the mosaic inscription upon the colonnade of the
io2 JERUSALEM.
Cubbet es Sakhrah ; inscriptions implying the same
wilful misstatement of facts are found upon large
copper plates fastened over the doors of the last-named
building. Upon these we read, after the usual pious
invocations and texts, the following words : ' Con-
structed by order of the servant of God, 'Abdallah el
Mamun, Commander of the Faithful, whose life may
God prolong ! during the government of the brother of
the Commander of the Faithful, Er Rashid, whom God
preserve ! Executed by Saleh ibn Yahyah, one of the
slaves of the Commander of the Faithful, in the month
Rabi' el Akhir, in the year 216.' (May, a.d. 831.) It
is inconceivable that so liberal and intellectual a prince
should have sanctioned such an arrogant and trans-
parent fiction ; and we can only attribute the misstate-
ment to the servile adulation of the officials entrusted
with the carrying-out of the restorations.
The Christian patriarch Thomas now sought for an
opportunity to restore the ruined Church of the Holy
Sepulchre, and the occasion was not long wanting.
One of those great plagues of locusts, which from time
to time devastate Jerusalem, had just visited the city ;
the crops entirely failed in consequence of their depreda-
tions, and as a famine appeared imminent, every
Mohammedan who could afford to do so quitted the
city, with his family and household effects, until a more
convenient season. Thus secured from interruption,
the patriarch proceeded to put his plan into execution,
and, aided by the contributions of a wealthy Egyptian
named Bocam, set about rebuilding the church. The
Muslims, on their return, were astonished and annoyed
to find that the Christian temple had risen again from
its ruins with such magnificent proportions that the
newly-restored glories of their own Masjid were quite
INSURGENTS TAKE THE CITY.
thrown into the shade. The patriarch Thomas and
other ecclesiastical dignitaries were accused of a con-
travention of the treaty under which they enjoyed their
immunities and privileges, and were thrown into prison
pending the inquiry. The principal charge against
them, and one which embodied the whole cause of
complaint, was that the dome of the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre overtopped that of j the Cubbet es
Sakhrah. By a miserable subterfuge, to which we
have already referred, the patriarch threw the onus of
proof upon his accusers, and declared that his dome
had been restored exactly upon the original plan, and
that the dimensions of the former one had been rigidly
observed. This deliberate falsehood the Mohammedans
were unable to disprove, notwithstanding the direct
evidence of their senses to the contrary, and the
prisoners were perforce set at liberty, and the charge
abandoned. Equity, either in its technical or ordinary
sense, is not a distinguishing characteristic of Muslim
law-courts, but in this case no one suffered by the
omission but themselves.
Mamun's brother, El Mo'tasim Billah, succeeded him
upon the throne. In the year 842 a fanatical chieftain,
named Temim Abu Hareb, headed a large army of des-
peradoes, and, after some temporary successes in Syria,
made himself master of Jerusalem. The churches and
other Christian edifices were only saved from destruc-
tion on the payment of a large ransom by the patriarch;
on receiving this, the insurgents vacated the city, and
were shortly afterwards entirely defeated by the caliph's
forces.
A wonderful story is told of the great earthquake
which took place in the year 846 a.d. — namely, that in
the night the guards of the Cubbet es Sakhrah were
io4 JERUSALEM.
suddenly astonished to find the dome itself displaced,
so that they could see the stars and feel the rain
splashing upon their faces. Then they heard a low
voice saying gently, ' Put it straight again,' and
gradually it settled down into its ordinary state.
The power of the caliphs was now upon the wane :
the disorders consequent upon the introduction of
Turkish guards at Baghdad by El Mo'tassem first
weakened their authority ; but the revolt of the Car-
mathians in 877, during the reign of El Mo'tammed
Billah, struck the first fatal blow against the House of
Abbas. The sect of the Carmathians was founded by
a certain Hamdan, surnamed Carmat. His doctrines
consisted in allegorizing the text of the Cor'an and
the precepts of Islamism, and in substituting for their
exterior observance other and fanciful duties. Carmat
was an inhabitant of the neighbourhood of Basora,
and his sect took its origin in that place, and soon
spread over the whole of Irak and Syria. Under a
chief named Abu Taher these fanatics defeated the
Caliph el Moktader Billah, and held possession of the
whole of the Syrian desert. With a force of more
than a hundred and seven thousand men, Abu Taher
took Rakka, Baalbekk, Basra, and Cufa, and even
threatened the imperial city of Baghdad itself. The
caliph made strenuous exertions to suppress the
rebellion, but his soldiers were defeated, and his
general taken captive and treated with the utmost
indignities. A strange story is told of this struggle,
which illustrates the fierce fanaticism and blind de-
votion of Abu Taher's followers. A subordinate officer
from the Mussulman army penetrated to the rebel
camp, and warned the chief to betake himself to
instant flight. * Tell your master,' was the reply, ' that
i
WANING POWER OF THE CALIPH. 105
in all his thirty thousand troops he cannot boast three
men like these.' As he spoke he bade three of his
followers to put themselves to death ; and, without a
murmur, one stabbed himself to the heart, another
drowned himself in the waters of the Tigris, and a
third flung himself from a precipice and was dashed
to pieces. Against such savages as these the luxurious
squadrons of Baghdad could do nothing — they were
ignominiously defeated ; and the Carmathians roamed
whithersoever they pleased, and devastated the country
with fire and sword. In 929 Mecca itself was pillaged,
thirty thousand pilgrims slain, and the black stone, the
special object of adoration to the true believer, was
carried off. This circumstance caused another diver-
sion in favour of Jerusalem ; the Ka'abah was again
deserted, and crowds of devotees flocked from all parts
of the Mohammedan world to prostrate themselves
before the Holy Rock of David. For the Christian
inhabitants of Jerusalem the change was an unfortu-
nate one : Mussulman bigotry was again in the as-
cendant in the Holy City, and we learn that in 937 the
church of Constantine was destroyed, and the churches
of Calvary and the Resurrection once more ruined and
despoiled.
A few years later the * black stone ' was restored,
and the Ka'abah and Mecca were once more opened
for the Mohammedan pilgrims. The Carmathians
themselves were suppressed and their legions dis-
persed ; but the seeds of religious and political heresy
were sown broadcast throughout Islam, and were
destined speedily to bring forth most disastrous fruit.
Since the conquests of 'Omar and his generals, no
successful attempt had been made to recover the
eastern provinces for the Grecian Empire ; but in the
106 JERUSALEM.
reign of the Caliph El Moti' al Illah a movement was
made which threatened to wrest the sceptre from the
hands of the Muslim princes and restore the pristine
glory of the Byzantine arms. Nicephorus Phocas
and his murderer, John Zimisces, having successively
married Theophania, the widow of Romanus, Emperor
of Constantinople, though nominally regents, really
held the supreme command, and during a period of
twelve years (a.d. 963-975) gained a series of brilliant
victories over the Saracens. The whole of Syria was
conquered, and Baghdad itself would have fallen, but
for the prompt measures and stern resolution of the
Bowide lieutenant, who compelled his imperial master
to provide for the defence of the capital. Satisfied,
however, with the rich plunder they had already
obtained, the Greeks retired without attacking the
town, and returned in triumph to Constantinople,
leaving Syria to bear the brunt of the Muslim's anger
and revenge.
A bloody persecution of the Christians was the
result, and the churches of the East were once more
exposed to the assaults of iconoclastic fanaticism.
Jerusalem suffered severely in the reaction ; the
Church of the Holy Sepulchre was destroyed ; and
the patriarch, suspected of treasonous intercourse with
the Greeks, was taken prisoner and burnt alive.
The establishment of independent dynasties in
various parts of the empire, by the revolts of the
provincial governors, had been for some time a source
of danger to the Abbasside power, and ultimately
accomplished the downfall of the dynasty.
The Aglabites in Africa, the Taherites in Khorassan,
the house of Bowiyeh in Persia, had, one by one, fallen
off from their allegiance, and the authority of the
THE FA TEMITE CALIPHS. i o 7
caliphs extended scarcely beyond the walls of Baghdad ;
and even in the capital itself they lingered on with
fluctuating fortune, alternately the tools or victims of
rival factions.
The alienation of Egypt — involving, as it nearly
always did, that of Syria as well — more immediately
affected the fortunes of Jerusalem, and therefore merits
a rather more circumstantial account.
In the year 868 Ahmed ibn Tulun, the son of a
Turkish slave, who had been appointed viceroy of
Egypt by the Caliph el M'otazz Billah, rebelled against
his master's authority, and assumed the style and title
of Sultan, or independent sovereign. The kingdom
remained in his family about thirty years, when it was
retaken by Mohammed ibn Suleiman, general of the
Caliph el Moktadhi Billah, and the authority of the
Abbassides was again established in Egypt. This
state of things, however, continued but for a short
time, and in 936 the government of Egypt was again
usurped by a Turk named Ikhshid, who, after some
opposition from the troops of the Er Radhi Billah (the
last of the caliphs who enjoyed the authority or de-
served the name), obtained undisputed possession of
Syria. He was nominally succeeded by his sons, but
the government remained in the hands of his black
slave, Kafur, who ultimately contrived to seat himself
upon the throne. At his death the kingdom passed to-
'Ali el Ikshid, a nephew of the founder of the family;
but, after a short reign of one year, he was deposed
(a.d. 970) by Jauher, the general of El Mo'ezz li din
Allah, fourth of the Fatemite caliphs.
This dynasty (the Fatemite, or Ismaili) was the most
formidable of all who had resisted the authority of the
caliphs of Baghdad ; for it was not as the insurgent
io8 JERUSALEM.
possessors of a province that they asserted their in-
dependence, but, as legitimate heirs, they disputed
their master's title to the caliphate itself.
The family traced its origin to Mohammed through
Fatimah, wife of 'Ali ibn Abi Taleb, and daughter of
the prophet ; and on the strength of this illustrious
pedigree they claimed to be the true successors of the
prophet and rightful heirs to the supreme authority.
Their pretensions were combated with great obstinacy
by the Abbasside princes, but there seems good reason
for believing that their claims were well-grounded.
The founder of the house was one 'Obeid Allah, who,
at the head of a number of political and religious
fanatics, had succeeded in establishing himself in Irak
and Yemen. After a series of romantic adventures, he
made himself master of Africa (a.d. 910), where he
assumed the title and authority of caliph, and gave
himself out to be the Mehdi, or last of the Imams,
foretold by Mohammed. At his death, which happened
in a.d. 934, he was succeeded by his son, Al Cairn bi
Amr Illah, who reigned until a.d. 946. His son, El
Mansur Ismael, then came to the throne, and dying in
952, the caliphate passed into the hands of El Mo'ezz
li din Allah Abu Temim Ma'ad. It was this prince who
conquered Egypt and founded the city of Cairo, which
then became the seat of empire. He died in 969, and
was succeeded by his son El 'Aziz billah Abu Mansur
Nizar. His death happened in October, a.d. 996 ;
and the caliphate then passed to El Hakem bi Amr
Illah, about whom it will be necessary to speak more
in detail.
Hakem was born at Cairo on the 23rd of August,
985 a.d., and was consequently only eleven years and
five months old when he ascended the throne. His
EL HAKEM BI AMR ILLAH. 109
father had assigned the guardianship of the young
prince, during his minority, to a white eunuch named
Barjewan ; but the real power was vested in a certain
Ibn 'Ammar, who had previously exercised the functions
of Cadhi ul Codhat, or chief magistrate, and whom
Hakem had been obliged to appoint as his prime
minister. Ahout the year 996, Hakem, or rather Ibn
Ammar, had sent Suleiman ibn Ja'afer (better known
as Abu Temim Ketami) to be governor-general of Syria.
Manjutakin, the governor who had been thus super-
seded, marched against Suleiman; but lie was defeated
near Ascalon, and sent a prisoner to Cairo. Abu
Temim was now invested with the governor-generalship
of Syria, and proceeded to Tiberias, where he fixed his
residence, and appointed his brother 'All to replace him
at Damascus. At first the inhabitants of that city re-
fused to recognise his authority; but Abu Temim having
written them a threatening letter, they proffered their
submission, and asked pardon for having resisted. 'Ali
refused to listen to their excuses, attacked the city, and
put a number of the inhabitants to death ; but, on the
arrival of Abu Temim himself, order was at last re-
stored. The governor-general then proceeded to occupy
himself with the reduction of the maritime ports of
Syria, and dismissing Jaish ibn Samsamah from the
government of Tripoli, gave the post to his own brother
'Ali. Jaish at once returned to Egypt, where he made
common cause with Barjewan against Ibn 'Ammar.
The latter was not idle, and in the meantime had laid
a deep plot against the life of his rival and his as-
sociates. Barjewan, however, obtained information of
the plot ; open hostilities were commenced, and Ibn
'Ammar was defeated, and compelled to seek safety in
concealment. Barjewan now succeeded to the duties
JERUSALEM.
and responsibilities of his office, and appointed as his
secretary one Fahd ibn Ibrahim, a Christian, to whom
he gave the title of Reis. At the same time he wrote
privately to the principal officers and inhabitants of
Damascus, inciting them to rise and attack Abu
Temim. Abu Temim thus found himself assailed at a
moment when he least expected it ; his treasures were
pillaged, all his immediate followers were killed, and
he himself was but too glad to escape by flight. While
Damascus was thus suddenly exposed to all the horrors
of civil war, the other provinces of Syria were agitated
by diverse insurrections. In the same year (a.d. 997)
the Tyrians had revolted, and placed at their head a
fellah named Olaka ; while Mofarrij ibn Daghfal ibn
Jerrah had also headed a party of insurgents, and was
making raids in the neighbourhood of Ramleh. The
Greeks, under a general named Ducas, were also, at
the same time, laying siege to the castle of Apameus.
Meanwhile, Barjewan had committed the government
of Syria to Jaish ibn Samsamah, who at once repaired
to Ramleh, where he found his deposed predecessor
Abu Temim, and sent him a prisoner to Egypt. After
this he despatched Husein — a great-grandson of
Hamdan, the founder of the Carmathian sect — to
quell the insurrection at Tyre. Olaka, being besieged
both by land and sea, sought the aid of the Greek
emperor, who sent several vessels filled with troops to
the relief of the city. The Mussulman vessels en-
countered this squadron before their arrival at Tyre ;
the Greeks were defeated, and put to flight with con-
siderable loss. Tyre, thus deprived of its last hope of
resistance, fell into the hands of Husein, who sacked
the city, and put the inhabitants to the sword. Olaka
himself fled to Egypt, where he was arrested and cruci-
EL HA REM BI AMR ILL AH.
fied. The new governor-general (Jaish) marched
against Mofarrij ibn Jerrah, put the latter to flight, and
shortly afterwards entered Damascus, where he was
received with every mark of submission and obedience.
The complete rout of the Grecian army followed
shortly afterwards, and Jaish having, by a coup d'etat,
massacred all the powerful chiefs at Damascus whom
he suspected of disaffection to his rule, established
himself firmly in the government of Syria.
Barjewan now wielded the sovereign authority,
Hakem remaining more of a puppet in his hands than
ever he had been in those of Ibn 'Ammar. But the
eunuch's triumph was shortlived. Barjewan had fre-
quently applied to Hakem, during the infancy of the
latter, the contemptuous name of ' The Lizard,' and
this indignity rankled in the young caliph's breast.
One morning (on the 15th of April, 999 a.d.) he sent a
message to his guardian, couched in the following
words : ' The little lizard has become a huge dragon,
and calls for thee !' Barjewan hastened, all trembling,
into the presence of Hakem, who then and there
ordered him to be beheaded.
About the year 1000 Hakem began to exhibit those
eccentricities of character which ultimately betrayed
him into such preposterous fancies and pretensions.
He began to promenade the city on horseback every
night, and on these occasions the inhabitants of Cairo
vied with each other in illuminations, banquets, and
other festive displays. As no limit was observed in
these amusements, and a great deal of licentiousness
was the natural result, the caliph forbade any woman
to leave her house after nightfall, and prohibited the
men from keeping their shops open after dusk. During
the next two years, Hakem displayed an unbounded
12 JERUSALEM.
zeal for the Shiah sect, inflicting indignities upon \ the
enemies of 'Ali,' and even putting many distinguished
Sunnis to death. At the same time he commenced a
rigorous persecution of the Jews and Christians : the
more eminent persons of both religions were compelled
either to embrace the Mohammedan creed, or to submit
to an entire confiscation of their property — and, in
many cases, to undergo a violent death ; while the
common people were robbed and illtreated on all sides,
and obliged to wear a ridiculous uniform to distinguish
them from their Muslim neighbours.
Between the years 1004 and 1005, he became more
extravagant and ridiculous in his behaviour than before.
He prohibited the sale of certain vegetables, ordered
that no one should enter the public baths without
drawers upon pain of death, and caused anathemas to
be written up, over the door of all the mosques, against
the first three caliphs, and all those persons whom
history mentions as having been inimical to the family
and succession of 'Ali. About this time he began to
hold public assemblies, in which the peculiar doctrines
of the Fatemite or Bateni sect were taught, and Mus-
lims of all classes and both sexes presented themselves
in crowds for initiation.
The most ridiculous laws and ordinances were now
promulgated : all persons were forbidden to show them-
selves in the streets after sunset ; strict search was
made for vessels containing wine, and wherever found
they were broken to pieces, and their contents poured
into the road ; all the dogs in Cairo were slaughtered,
because a cur had barked at the caliph's horse.
In the year 1007 — probably inspired by a revolt
which had, at one time, threatened the total extinction
of his power — he began to display some slight signs of
EL HAKEM BI AMR ILLAH. 113
moderation, and, amongst other things, caused the
anathemas against the enemies of 'Ali to be defaced
from the mosques, and otherwise sought to conciliate
his Sunni subjects. The Christians, however, in no
way profited by the change, and a more rigorous perse-
cution than ever was instituted against them. Three
years later, Hakem gave the order for the destruction
of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem.
The excuse alleged by the Mohammedan authorities
for this outrage was the caliph's pious horror at the dis-
graceful orgies and juggling imposture attending the
so-called descent of the Holy Fire at the Easter cele-
bration : ' on which occasion,' as the Arab historian
naively remarks, ' the most frightful and blasphemous
enormities are committed before the very eyes of the
faithful. The Christians positively make a parade of
their misbelief, reading and reciting their books aloud,
in a manner too horrible to speak of, while they raise
their crucifixes over their heads till one's hair absolutely
stands on end !'
The real cause, however, appears to have been the
machinations of a certain monk named John. This
man had in vain endeavoured to induce his patriarch
(Zacharias) to consecrate him to the office of bishop,
but his superior had persistently refused to accede
to his repeated request. Impelled by ambition and
revenge, John came to Egypt, presented himself
before Hakem at Jebel Mokattem (where the caliph
was in the habit of resorting to practise his supersti-
tious and profane ceremonies), and addressed to him a
petition filled with the grossest calumnies against the
patriarch. ' Thou art the king of the country,' so the
document ran, ' but the Christians have a king more
powerful than thee, owing to the immense riches which
114 JERUSALEM.
he has amassed — one who sells bishoprics for gold, and
conducts himself in a manner highly displeasing to
God.' Hakem, on reading these words, at once com-
manded that all the churches throughout the kingdom
should be closed, and the patriarch himself arrested,
and wrote to the governor of Jerusalem in the following
terms : ' The Imam, the Commander of the Faithful,
orders you so to destroy the Church of El Camamah,*
that its earth shall become its heaven, and its length its
breadth.' The order was immediately put into execu-
tion ; the church was razed to the ground, and an
attempt made — though fortunately without success — to
destroy the rock-hewn tomb itself, which had been for
so many years the special object of devotion to myriads
of Christian pilgrims.
In 1012 Hakem renewed the greater part of his
absurd police regulations. He forbade women to take
any part in funeral ceremonies, or to visit the tombs of
their deceased relatives ; the edicts against wine and
forbidden fruits were more rigidly enforced ; all the
vines were destroyed, and their cultivation for the
future prohibited ; immense quantities of raisins were
burnt, and the merchants forbidden to expose the fruit
for sale ; the same course was taken with regard to
honey and dates, and no compensation whatever was
allowed to the owners.
In 1014 he ordered all the women of Cairo to confine
themselves rigorously to their houses, and forebade
them even to appear at the doors or windows, and
shoemakers were forbidden to make shoes for them.
This state of constraint they were compelled to endure
until his death — that is, for more than seven years and
a half.
* See p. 71.
EL HAKEM BI AMR ILLAH.
It is related that, passing one day by certain baths,
he heard a noise inside, and on being informed that
some women were there, in contravention of his law,
he ordered the doors and other approaches to be
walled up, and the entire number perished of starva-
tion.
But it would be tedious to detail the numerous acts
of fanaticism and folly of which he was guilty. Suffice
it to say, that he committed every extravagance which
could shock the prejudices or offend the scruples of
his subjects.
At last his folly reached its height, and he gave him-
self out to be the Deity incarnate, and called upon all
men to render him divine honours. In these prepos-
terous pretensions he was supported (perhaps instigated
in the first place) by certain Persian Da'is, or emissaries
of the Bateni sect, of whom the principal were Moham-
med ibn Ismail ed Darazi and Hamza ibn Ali ibn
Ahmed el Hadi. These persons endeavoured to spread
their doctrines in Cairo itself; but although a certain
number of persons, impelled either by fear or love of
gain, did acknowledge the divinity of the caliph and
abjure the Mussulman religion — yet the greater part of
the populace shrank from the profession of such im-
piety, and Hamza and Ed Darazi were compelled to
seek safety in flight. They chose Syria for the next
scene of their operations, and found ready believers in
the mountaineers of Lebanon and Hermon — men who
still clung in secret to the idolatrous sun-worship of
their forefathers.
Thus was the sect of the Druzes established in Syria :
they take their name from Ed Darazi, but they regard
Hamza as the true founder of their religion. And
for eight hundred years a hardv and intelligent race
8—2
n6 JERUSALEM.
have acknowledged for their god one of the maddest
monsters that the world has ever produced !
As for Hakem himself, his extravagant conduct could
not long go unpunished. In the year 1021 he was
assassinated, by the orders of his own sister, while en-
gaged in one of his nocturnal ceremonies in Jebel
Mokattem, where he was in the habit of retiring ' to
worship the planet Saturn, and hold converse with the
devil.'
It will not be out of place here to give some account
of the tenets of the Druzes.* This remarkable sect
profess to recognise but one God, without seeking to
penetrate into the nature of His being and attributes ;
to confess that He can neither be comprehended by the
senses, nor defined by language ; to believe that the
Deity has manifested itself to mankind at different
epochs under a human form, without participating in
any of the weaknesses and imperfections of human
nature ; that the last of these avatars descended upon
earth in the person of El Hakem bi Amr Illah, in whom
they ceased for all time ; that Hakem disappeared in
the year 411 of the Hijrah (a.d. 1021), in order to put
the faith of his worshippers to the test ; and that he
will one day appear again, clothed in majesty and glory,
to extend his empire over the whole face of the globe,
and to consummate the happiness of those who faith-
fully believe in him. They believe, moreover, that the
Universal Intelligence is the first of God's creatures,
and the immediate production of His omnipotence, and
that this intelligence was incarnate in the person of
Hamza ibn Ahmed during Hakem's reign ; that it is by
* The following account of the Druzes, as well as that of the
life of Hakem, is abridged from the ' Expose* de la Religion des
Druzes,' by the celebrated Orientalist, Sylvestre de Sacy.
THE DRUZES. 117
his ministry that all other creatures have been produced ;
that Hamza alone possesses the knowledge of truth
and of true religion, and that he communicates, directly
or indirectly, but in different proportions, to the other
ministers, and to the faithful themselves, that knowledge
and grace which he receives from the Deity, and of
which he is the sole channel ; that he alone has imme-
diate access to the presence of God, and serves as the
mediator to all other worshippers of the Supreme
Being ; and that he will be, at the second advent, the
instrument by which all rewards and punishments are
to be distributed, and the kingdom of Hakem to be
established upon earth. They hold that all souls are
created by this Universal Intelligence; that the number
of human beings is always the same, and that souls
pass successively into different bodies ; that their con-
dition during this transmigration is progressive or the
reverse, according to their adherence in the previous
state to the dogmas and precepts of their religion, and
their strict performance of the duties enjoined by the
seven commandments of Hamza. These are — Ver-
acity ; charity ; the renunciation of their ancient faith ;
submission to the will of God ; to believe that all pre-
ceding religions are but types of the true faith ; that all
their precepts and ceremonies are allegories ; and that
their own religion abrogates all other creeds which have
gone before. Such are the doctrines taught in the
religious works of the Druzes themselves ; the followers
of the sect are known amongst themselves by the
name of Unitarians. The Druzes are accused of wor-
shipping a small idol in the form of a calf, and it is a
well-ascertained fact that they do make use of some
figure in their religious ceremonies. It is, however, the
symbol of Iblis, the rival or enemy of Hakem, the calf
n8 JERUSALEM.
('ejl) being opposed to the Universal Intelligence ('akl)
just mentioned.
Before his death, Hakem appears to have somewhat
relaxed in his persecutions of the Jews and Christians ;
the latter were allowed to rebuild their churches, and
many who had become apostates openly renounced Mo-
hammedanism, and were baptized into the Christian
community.
The Church of the Holy Sepulchre thus destroyed
must have been (see p. 142) very speedily repaired, for
we find, during the reign of El Mostanser Billah,
Hakem's grandson, that the fabric was completely
restored, the permission of the caliph having been ob-
tained by the release of five thousand Muslim prisoners
on the part of the Greek emperor.
In the year 1016 a fresh earthquake occurred, and
the great cupola over the Sakhrah fell down, though
without much injury happening to the foundations of the
building. The walls at the south-west angle of the
Haram es Sherif also suffered by the shock, and a Cufic
inscription tells us that the damage done in that quarter
was repaired by Ed Dhaher li 'Ezaz din Allah. The
same prince also restored the cupola itself, as we learn
from another inscription engraved upon the wooden
framework of the cupola, and repeated at each of the
four points of the compass. It runs as follows : ( In
the name of God the Merciful, the Compassionate !
" None repair the mosques of God but such as believe
in Him " (Cor. c. v.). The Imam Abu el Hasan ed
Dhaher li 'Ezaz din Allah, son of El Hakem bi Amr
Illah, Prince of the Faithful (the blessing of God be
upon his noble ancestry !), ordered the restoration of
this blessed cupola. The work was executed by the
servant of God, the Emir, the confidant of the Imams,
EARTHQUAKES. 119
the prop of the empire, 'Ali ibn Ahmed Inahet Allah, in
the year 413 (a.d. 1022). May God perpetuate the glory
and stability of our lord the Commander of the Faith-
ful, and make him to possess the east and west of the
earth ! We praise God at the beginning and end of all
our works.'
In 1034 fresh earthquakes devastated Syria and
Egypt ; some of the walls of Jerusalem were destroyed,
and a large portion of the Mihrab Da'ud (that is, the
building now called the Cala'at Jalut) fell to the ground.
Again, in the year 1060, an accident happened in the
Cubbet es Sakhrah : the great candelabra suspended
from the dome, and containing five hundred candles,
suddenly gave way, and fell with an awful crash upon
the Sakhrah, greatly to the consternation of the
worshippers assembled in the mosque, who looked
upon it as foreboding some great calamity to Islam.
Their fears were not unfounded, for the conquest of the
Holy City by the Crusaders followed not many years
after this incident. This period seems to have been
especially fertile in volcanic disturbances, for again, in
the year 1068, a fearful earthquake convulsed all Pales-
tine. On this occasion, the Sakhrah is said to have
been rent asunder by the shock, and the cleft miracu-
lously reclosed.
Another event of evil omen, but of doubtful authen-
ticity, is related by the Arab historians as having
happened about the same period. The sea, they
declare, suddenly receded for the distance of a day's
journey ; but on the inhabitants of the neighbourhood
taking possession of the reclaimed land, it suddenly
returned and overwhelmed them, so that an immense
destruction of life ensued.
The conflict between the Abbasside and Fatemite
i2o JERUSALEM.
caliphs had been from time to time renewed ; but
fortune seemed at length to have decided the struggle
in favour of the latter family, and the name of El
Mostanser Billah was formally introduced into the
Khotbah (or Friday 'bidding prayer'), in the sacred
mosques of Mecca and Jerusalem — a proceeding which
was tantamount to recognising the Fatemite monarch
as the legitimate successor of the Prophet and sovereign
of the whole Mussulman empire. But scarcely had
they attained the summit of their ambition when the
fall came, and events happened which resulted in the
total overthrow of the Fatemite dynasty, and the
restoration, in name at least, of the authority of the
Abbasside caliphs.
The nomad tribe of Turkomans had made themselves
masters of Khorassan, and determined upon the elec-
tion of a king. Toghrul Beg, a grandson of a noble
chief named Seljuk, was chosen by lot for the office,
and in a short time extended his conquests over the
whole of Persia ; and, being a rigid Mohammedan of
the orthodox sect, compelled the revolted lieutenants
of the Abbasside caliphs to return to their allegiance.
For this service he was named Emir el Omara (' Chief
of chiefs '), and appointed the vicegerent and protector
of the caliph. His nephew, Alp Arslan, succeeded
him, and, after a brilliant career of conquest, left the
sceptre to his son Melik Shah (a.d. 1072). This prince,
a worthy scion of the Seljukian line, resolved upon the
extension of the Fatemite dynasty, and the establish-
ment of his own authority in Syria and Egypt. His
lieutenant, Atsiz, a native of Kha'rezm, invaded the
former country, and took possession of Ramleh and
Jerusalem — the latter after a protracted siege. The
names of the Abbasside caliph and of the Sultan Melik
EG YPTIAN CONQUEST. 1 2 1
Shah were now formally substituted for that of the
Egyptian caliph, El Mostanser Billah, in the Friday
Khotba, at the Masjid el Aksa. Five years later he
besieged Damascus, and the capital of Syria also fell
before his troops : the inhabitants, already reduced to
the last extremities by famine, were punished for their
resistance by the resentful Emir, and, the city being
given up to pillage, the most frightful scenes of carnage
ensued. Emboldened by this victory, he marched
upon Egypt at the head of a large army of Turkomans,
Kurds, and Arabs, and laid siege to Cairo. Here, how-
ever, he w 7 as repulsed with considerable loss, and com-
pelled to return to Syria, which he found already in a
state of insurrection against his authority. Those of
his troops who had escaped slaughter in Egypt were
butchered by the insurgents as they passed Palestine ;
and Atsiz, accompanied only by a small band of ad-
herents, escaped with difficulty to Damascus, where
his brother had been left at the head of affairs during
his absence. Jerusalem had in the meantime risen
against the Turkish chief; but the insurrection was
soon quelled, and the Cadhi and other municipal
officers, together with three thousand of the in-
habitants, were put to death. Atsiz was shortly after-
wards besieged in Damascus by the Egyptian forces,
and called in to his aid the Emir Tutush, a son of Alp
Arslan. The Egyptians fled without attempting to
oppose the advancing army, and Emir Tutush was
welcomed by Atsiz at the city-gate. Jealous, doubt-
less, of his subordinate's previous victories and growing
influence, the prince commanded him to be seized and
executed upon the spot, alleging, as an excuse for the
barbarous act, that the general had been wanting in
respect, and had not awarded him the reception to
122 JERUSALEM.
which his rank entitled him. The Emir Tutush now
assumed the post of governor-general of Syria, and
assigned that of Jerusalem and Palestine to a Turkish
chief named Urtuk ibn Eksek, who remained in
authority until a.d. iogi. Urtuk was succeeded by
his two sons, Elghazi and Sukman, who ruled Jeru-
salem until the assassination of Tutush at Damascus
in a.d. 1095. Taking advantage of the disturbances
which followed upon this event, the Fatimite caliph of
Egypt, El Most'aila Billah, sent his general, Afdhal
el Jemali, with a large force, into Syria. Damascus
yielded without a blow in the month of July, 1096, and
Syria and Palestine remained for some time afterwards
in the hands of the Egyptian government.
CHAPTER V.
THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIMS.
Dulce mihi cruciari ;
Parva vis doloris est :
Malo mori quam faedari :
Major vis amoris est.
Hymn attributed to St. Augustine.
At what period in the history of Christianity began
the practice of going on pilgrimage it is difficult to
decide. Probably the first places held sacred were
those of local martyrs and confessors to the faith.
Every part of the civilized world had these in abund-
ance : there was not a village where some saint had
not fallen a victim to persecution, not a town which
could not boast of its roll of martyrs. When the day
of persecution was over, and stories of miracles and
wonderful cures at holy shrines began to grow, it was
natural that the minds of a credulous age should turn
to the holiest place of all, the city of Jerusalem. It
had so turned even before the invention of the Holy
Cross, for Helena herself was on a pilgrimage when
she made her discovery. But the story noised abroad,
the building by Constantine of the Church of the
Martyrdom, and the immediate fixing, without any
hesitation, of all the sacred sites recorded in the New
Testament, were the causes of a vast increase in the
number of pilgrims who every year flocked to Jeru-
salem. And then flames, which burst from the founda-
124 JERUSALEM.
tions of the Temple when Julian made his vain attempt
to rebuild it, were reported throughout Christendom,
and added to the general enthusiasm. For the feeble
faith of the nations had to be supported by miracles
ever new. Moreover, the dangers of the way were
diminished ; more countries day by day became
Christian ; the pagans, who had formerly intercepted
and killed the pilgrims on the road, were now them-
selves in hiding; the Christians destroyed the old
shrines and temples wherever they found them ; and
all the roads were open to the pious worshipper who
only desired to pray at the sacred places.
But the passion for pilgrimages grew to so great an
extent, and was accompanied by so many dangers to
virtue and good manners, that attempts were made
from time to time to check it. Augustine teaches that
God is approached better by love than by long travel.
Gregory of Nyssa points out that pilgrimage of itself
avails nothing ; and Jerome declares that heaven may
be reached as easily from Britain as from Jerusalem,
that an innumerable throng of saints never saw the
city, and that the sacred places themselves have been
polluted by the images of idols.
But this teaching was in vain. Going on pilgrimage
served too many ends, and gratified too many desires.
Piety, no doubt, in greater or less degree had always
something to do with a resolve to undertake a long and
painful journey. But there were other motives. The
curious man, by becoming a pilgrim, was enabled to see
the world ; the lazy man to escape work; the adventu-
rous man to find adventures ; the credulous and imagi-
native man to fill his mind with stories ; the vain man
to gratify his vanity, and procure life-long honour at the
cost of some peril and fatigue ; the sincere to wipe off
PA SSION FOR PIL GRIM A GES. 125
his sins ; and all alike believed that they were doing an
act meritorious in itself and pleasing in the sight of
heaven.
The doctors of the Church protested, but in vain.
Indeed, they often went themselves. St. Porphyry,
afterwards Bishop of Gaza, was one of those who
went. He had betaken himself to the Thebaid at
the age of twenty, to become a hermit. There, after
five years of austerities, he became seized with an
irresistible desire to see Jerusalem. Afflicted with a
painful disorder, and hardly able to hold himself
upright, he managed to crawl across the deserts to the
city ; as soon as he arrived there, he sent his com-
panion back to Thessalonica, his native place, with in-
junctions to sell all that he had and distribute the
proceeds among the faithful. And then he laid himself
down to die. Mark departed ; what was his astonish-
ment, on returning, his mission accomplished, to find his
friend restored to health ! Porphyry went no more to
the Thebaid, probably but a dull place at best, even for
a hermit, and betaking himself to a handicraft, he
preached the Gospel and became a bishop. St. Jerome
himself, in spite of his protests, went to Palestine,
accompanied by Eusebius of Cremona. The voice of
calumny had attacked Jerome in revenge for his ex-
posure of the sins and follies of the day, and he was
pleased to leave Rome. The two future saints landed
at Antioch, and after seeing Jerusalem went on to
Bethlehem, and thence to the Thebaid, where they
solaced themselves with admiring the austerities of the
self-tormentors, the hermits there. Returning thence
to Bethlehem, they resolved on selling their property
and forming a monastery in that town. This they
accomplished by the assistance of Paula and Eudoxia,
;2 6 JERUSALEM.
two noble ladies, mother and daughter, who followed
them to Palestine, and passed their lives, like Jerome
himself, under a rigid rule of prayer and labour. Paula
died in Bethlehem. Her daughter and Jerome, less
happy, were turned out of their peaceful retreat by a
band of Arabs, bribed, we are told, by the heretics
in Jerusalem, who burned and pillaged the monastic
houses, dispersed the monks and nuns, and drove the
venerable Jerome, then past the age of seventy years,
to a bed from which he never rose again.
The story of the pilgrimage of Paula is useful because
it shows that the multiplication of the sacred sites was
not due entirely to the invention of later times. At
Caesarea she saw the house of Cornelius the centurion
turned into a church ; and here, also, was the house of
Saint Philip, and the chambers of his four virgin
daughters, prophetesses : on Mount Zion she saw the
column where our Lord was scourged, still stained with
His blood, and supporting the gallery of a church ;
she saw, too, the place where the Holy Spirit descended
on the Apostles ; at Bethphage they showed her the
sepulchre of Lazarus, and the house of Mary and
Martha ; on Mount Ephraim she saw the tombs of
Joshua and Eleazar ; at Shechem the well of Jacob,
and the tombs of the twelve patriarchs, and at Samaria
the tombs of Elisha and John the Baptist. Hither
were brought those possessed with devils that they
might be exorcised, and Paula herself was an eye-
witness of the miraculous cure effected. With regard
to miracles, indeed, Antoninus Martyr, to whose
testimony on the site of the Church of the Holy
Sepulchre we have referred in another place, relates
many which he himself pretends to have seen. If you
bring oil near the true cross, he says, it will boil of its
PAULA AND EUDOXIA. 127
own accord, and must be quickly removed, or it will all
escape ; at certain times a star from heaven rests on
the cross, f He tells us, too, that there is on Sinai an
idol, fixed there by the infidels, in white marble, which
on days of ceremony changes colour and becomes quite
black.
The impending fall of the empire, and the invasion
of the hordes of barbarians, proved but a slight check
to the swarms of pilgrims. For the barbarians, finding
that these unarmed men and women were completely
harmless, respected their helplessness and allowed them
to pass unmolested. When, as happened shortly after
their settlement in Italy and the West, they were
gradually themselves brought within the pale of the
Christian faith, they made laws which enforced the
protection and privileges of pilgrims. These laws were
not, it is true, always obeyed.
The route was carefully laid down for the pilgrims by
numerous Itineraries, the most important of which is
that called the Itinerary of the Bordeaux Pilgrim. The
author starts from Bordeaux, perhaps because it is his
own city, perhaps because it was then the most con-
siderable town in the West of Europe. He passes
through France by Auch, Toulouse, Narbonne, thence
to Beziers, Nimes, and Aries. At Aries he turns
northwards, and passes through Avignon, Orange, and
Valence, when he again turns eastwards to Diez,
Embrun, and Briancon; thence he crosses the Alps and
stops at Susa. In Italy he passes through the towns of
Turin, Pavia, Milan (not because Milan was on his
way, but because it would be a pity to lose the oppor-
tunity of seeing this splendid city), to Brescia, Verona,
and Aquileia, a town subsequently destroyed by Attila,
at the head of the Gulf of Trieste. Crossing the
28 JERUSALEM.
Italian Alps, he arrives at the frontiers of the empire of
the East. His course lies next through Illyria, Styria,
and along the northern banks of the river Drave, which
he leaves after a time and follows the course of the
Save, to its confluence with the Danube at Belgrade.
He now follows the Danube until he comes to the great
Roman road, which leads him to Nissa. Thence,
still by the road, to Philippopolis, Heraclia, and
Constantinople. Across Asia Minor he passes through
Nicomedia, Nicaea, across what is now Anatolia to
Ancyra, thence to Tyana and Tarsus. From Tarsus
he goes to Iskanderoon. thence to Antioch, Tortosa,
Tripoli (along the Roman road which lay by the Syrian
sea-board), Beyrout, Sidon, Tyre, Acre, and Csesarea.
Here he leaves the direct and shortest way to
Jerusalem in order first to visit the Jordan and other
places.
It is instructive to follow the route of the pilgrim,
because this was doubtless the road taken by the hun-
dreds who every year flocked to Jerusalem, and because,
as we shall see, nearly the same road was subsequently
taken by the Crusaders.
Palestine, during some centuries, enjoyed a period of
profound peace, during which the sword was sheathed,
and no voice of war, save that of a foray of Arabs, was
heard in the land. Thither retreated all those who, like
Saint Jerome, were indisposed altogether to quit the
world, like the hermits of Egypt, but yet sought to find
some quiet spot where they could study and worship
undisturbed. Thither came the monks turned out of
Africa by Genseric ; and when Belisarius in his turn
overcame the barbarians, thither were brought back the
spoils of the Temple which Titus had taken from Jeru-
salem. Nor was the repose of the country seriously
MOHAMMEDAN MA STERS. 1 29
disturbed during the long interval between the revolt of
Barcochebas and the invasion of the Persians under
Chosroes. But after Heraclius had restored their city
to the Christians, a worse enemy even than Chosroes
was at hand, and when Caliph Omar became the master
of Jerusalem, the quiet old days were gone for
ever.
The Mohammedans were better masters than the Per-
sians ; they reverenced the name of Jesus, they spared
the Church of the Sepulchre, they even promised to
protect the Christians. But promises made by the
caliph were not always observed by his fanatic soldiers.
The Christians were pillaged and robbed ; they were
insulted and abused ; they were forced to pay a heavy
tribute ; forbidden to appear on horseback, or to wear
arms ; obliged to wear a leathern girdle to denote their
nation ; nor were they even permitted to elect their own
bishops and clergy.
The pilgrims did not, in consequence of these perse-
cutions, become fewer. To the other excitements which
called them to the Holy Land was now added the chance
of martyrdom, and the records of the next two centuries
are filled with stories of their sufferings, which appear to
have been grossly exaggerated, at the hands of the
Muslim masters of the city. If the pilgrim returned
safely to his home, there was some comfort for his re-
lations, deprived of the glory of having a martyr in the
family, in being able to relate how he had been buffeted
and spat upon. To this period belong the pilgrimages
of Arnulphus and Antoninus. That of the former is
valuable, inasmuch as not only his own account has
been preserved, but even the map which he drew up
from memory. Bede made use of his narrative, which
was taken down by the abbot Adamnanus, who gave
9
i 3 o JERUSALEM.
Arnulphus hospitality when he was shipwrecked in the
Hebrides on his return.
So extensive was the desire to ' pilgrimize,' so many-
people deserted their towns and villages, leaving their
work undone and their families neglected, while disorders
multiplied on the road, and virtue was subjected to so
many more temptations on the way to the Holy Land
than were encountered at home, that the Church, about
the ninth century, interfered, and assumed the power to
grant or to withhold the privilege of pilgrimage. The
candidate had first to satisfy the bishop of his diocese
of his moral character, that he went away with the full
consent of his friends and relations, and that he was
actuated by no motives of curiosity, indolence, or a
desire to obtain in other lands a greater license and
freedom of action. If these points were not answered
satisfactorily, permission was withheld ; and if the
applicant belonged to one of the monastic orders, he
found it far more difficult to obtain the required
authority. For it had been only too well proved that
in assuming the pilgrim's robe the monks were often
only embracing an opportunity to return to the world
again. But when all was satisfactory, and the bishop
satisfied as to the personal piety of the applicant, the
Church dismissed him on his journey with a service and
a benediction. He was solemnly invested with the
scrip and staff, he put on the long woollen robe which
formed the chief part of his dress, the clergy and his
own friends accompanied him to the boundaries of his
parish, and there, after giving him a letter or a pass-
port which insured him hospitality so long as he was
in Christian countries, they sent him on his way.
' In the name of God,' ran the commendatory letter,
' we would have your highness or holiness to know that
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 131
the bearer of the present letters, our brother, has asked
our permission to go peaceably on pilgrimage to Jerusa-
lem, either for his own sins, or to pray for our preserva-
tion. Thereupon, we have given him these present
letters, in which we salute you, and pray you, for the love
of God and Saint Peter, to receive him as your guest, to
be useful to him in going and coming back, so that he
may return in safety to his house ; and, as is your good
custom, make him pass happy days. May God the
Eternal King protect you, and keep you in His kingdom !'
Thus provided, the pilgrim found hostels open for him,
and every castle and monastery ready to receive him.
Long and weary his journey may have been, but it could
not have been tedious to him, with eyes to see and
observe, when every city was a sort of new world, when
a new country lay beyond every hill, and new manners
and customs were marked on every day. The perils and
dangers of the way were not until the Mohammedan con-
quest — nor indeed after it, until the time of Hakem —
very great. True, the woods harboured wild beasts, but
the pilgrims travelled in bands ; and there were robbers,
but these did not rob those who had nothing. The
principal dangers were those of which they knew
nothing, the diseases due to malaria, exposure, sun-
stroke, fatigue, and change of climate. These, and not
the Turks, were the chief enemies of pilgrims. And,
in spite of these known and unknown dangers, there
cannot be a doubt that the pilgrimage to Syria was a
long series of new and continually changing wonders and
surprises. The Church which blessed the pilgrim also
celebrated the act of pilgrimage, and a service has been
preserved which was performed on the Second Sunday
after Easter, in the cathedral of Rouen. Of this the
following is an abridgment : In the nave of the church
9—2
132 JERUSALEM.
was erected a fort, ' castellum,' representing that house
at Emmaus where the two travellers entered and broke
bread with Christ. At the appointed time two priests,
'of the second seats,' appointed for the day, came
forth from the vestry, singing the hymn which begins
' Jesu, nostra redemptio.' They were to be dressed in
tunics, ' et desuper cappis transversum,' were to have
long flowing hair and beards, and were each to carry a
staff and scrip. Singing this hymn and slowly march-
ing down the right aisle, they came to the western porch,
when they put themselves at the head of "the procession
of choristers waiting for them, and all began together to
sing, ' Nos tuo vultu saties.' Then the priest for the day,
robed in alb and surplice, barefooted, carrying a cross
on his right shoulder, advanced to meet them, and
' suddenly standing before them,' asked :
' What manner of communications are these that ye
have one to another as ye walk, and are sad ?'
To which the two pilgrims replied :
' Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not
known the things which are come to pass there in these
days ?'
' What things ?' asked the priest.
' Concerning Jesus of Nazareth,' they replied, with
the words which follow.
' Oh, fools !' said the priest, ' and slow of heart, to
believe all that the prophets have spoken.'
And then, feigning to retire, the priest would there
have left them, but they held him back, and, pointing to
the ' castellum,' entreated him to enter, singing, ' Abide
with us, for it is towards evening, and the day is far
spent.' Then, singing another hymn, they led him to
the ' Fort of Emmaus,' when they entered and sat down
at a table already spread for supper. Here the priest
THE PILGRIM'S SERVICE. 133
brake bread, sitting between them, and being recog-
nised by this act for the Lord, ' suddenly vanished out
of their sight.' The pilgrims, pretending to be stupefied,
arose and sung sorrowfully {lamentabilitev), ' Alleluia,'
with the verse, ' Did not our hearts burn within us,
while He talked with us by the way, and while He
opened to us the Scriptures ?'
Singing this twice they walked to the pulpit, where
they sang the verse, ' Die nobis Maria.' After this,
another priest, dressed in a dalmatic and surplice, with
head muffled up like a woman, came to them and sang,
' Sepulcrum Christi Angelicos testes/
He then took up a cloth from one place, and a second
from another place, and threw them before the great
door of the choir. ' And then let him sing, " Christ has
risen," and let the choir chaunt the two other verses
which follow, and let the women and the pilgrims
retire within ; and the memory of this act being thus
recalled, let the procession return to the choir, and the
vespers be finished.'
These ceremonies were not, of course, designed to
meet the case of pilgrimages undertaken by way of
penance. These were of two kinds, minor es peregrina-
tiones, which were pilgrimages on foot to local shrines,
such as, later on, that of St. Thomas-a-Becket, for
instance ; or majoves, to Rome or Jerusalem. The
latter, of which Frotmond's pilgrimage — which will be
described further on — is an example, were for murder,
sacrilege, or for any other great crime. One of the
rules as regards a murderer was as follows : ' Let a
chain be made of the very sword with which the crime
was committed, and let the neck, arms, and body of
the criminal be bound round with this chain ; thus let
him be driven from his native country, and wander
i 3 4 JERUSALEM.
whither the Pope shall direct him, till by long prayer
he obtain the Divine mercy.'
The roads were crowded with these miserable
wretches, limping along to their shrines. Only the
more distinguished, either in rank or enormity of
offence, were ordered to go to Palestine. The custom
was carried on to comparatively late times, and it was
not till the fourteenth century that a law was passed
restraining the practice — ' better is it that these
criminals should remain all together in one place, and
there work out the sentence imposed upon them by the
Church,' — so long was it before justice was taken out
of the hands of the Church.
It could not have added greatly to the delights of
travelling ill these days occasionally to meet bands of
these wretches, toiling painfully along, half naked, and
dragging the weight of their chains, while they im-
plored the prayers and alms of the passers-by.
But the triumph of the pilgrim (not the criminal)
was in coming home again. Bearing a palm branch
in his hands, as a sign that he had seen the sacred
places, he narrated his adventures, and gathered — those
at least that were poor — alms in plenty. Arrived at his
native village, the palm branch was solemnly offered at
the altar, and the pilgrim returned to his home to
spend the rest of his life in telling of the miracles he
had seen wrought.
Not all, however, came home. So long as the pilgrim
passed the rough lands where his passport was recog-
nised, all was easy enough. He got food to eat, and a
bed to sleep in. But he sometimes came to places, if
he went by way of Constantinople, where there were
no monasteries, and where his passport proved useless.
The ferocious Bulgarians, or the treacherous Croats,
WILLI BALD. 135
in theory friendly, and by profession Christian, some-
times proved cut-throats and robbers. The Moham-
medans, though they acknowledged the harmlessness
of the crowds that flocked about the gates, could not
avoid showing the contempt they naturally felt for
those who refused to think as they thought themselves;
when the pilgrims arrived at the city, they could not
enter without payment, and often they had no money
to pay. And if they were able to pay for admission,
they were not exempt from the insults of the Saracens,
who sometimes pleased themselves with interrupting
the sacred office, trampling on the vessels of the Eucha-
rist, and even scourging the priests.
But these persecutions belong to a somewhat later
time than we have yet arrived at.
About the same time as the pilgrimage of Arnulf
took place that of Willibald. Willibald, afterwards
Bishop of Eichstadt, was an Englishman by birth.
He was dedicated at an early age by his father to the
monastic life, and received a pious and careful educa-
tion.
Arrived at the period of manhood, he persuaded
his father, his sister Walpurga, and his brother Wune-
bald, accompanied by a large party of servants and
followers, to undertake a pilgrimage to Palestine. In
Italy his father died, and his brother and sister left him
and returned to England. Willibald, with a few com-
panions, went on eastward. At Emessa they were re-
tained, but not harmed, by the Emir, but, released
through the intercession of a Spanish merchant, they
proceeded to Jerusalem. Willibald visited the city no
less than four times. He was once, we are told,
miraculously cured of blindness by praying at the
church where the Cross had been found. Probably he
36 JERUSALEM.
had contracted an ophthalmia, of which he recovered
in Jerusalem.
About the year 800, Charlemagne conceived the idea
of sending a special embassy to the Caliph Harun er
Raschid. He sent three ambassadors, two of whom
died on the way. The third, Isaac the Jew, returned
after five years' absence, bearing the presents of the
great caliph, and accompanied by his envoys. The
presents consisted of an elephant, which caused huge
surprise to the people, carved ivory, incense, a clock,
and the keys of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
Charlemagne sent, in return, white and green robes, and
a pack of his best hounds. He also astonished the
caliph's envoys by the magnificence of his church
ceremonials. Charlemagne established a hostel at
Jerusalem for the use of pilgrims, and continued to
cultivate friendly relations with Haroun. The latter,
for his part, inculcated a toleration far enough indeed
from the spirit of his creed, and ordered that the
Christians should not be molested in the exercise of
their worship.
One of the most singular histories of the time is
that, already alluded to, of the pilgrimage of Frotmond.
At the death of their father, Frotmond and his brothers
proceeded to divide the property which he left behind.
A great-uncle, an ecclesiastic, in some way interfered
with the partition of the estates, and roused them to
so great a fury that they killed him. But immediately
afterwards, struck with horror at the crime they had
committed, they betook themselves to the court of
King Lothaire, and professed their penitence and
resolution to perform any penance. In the midst of
an assembly of prelates the guilty brothers were bound
with chains, clothed with hair shirts, and with their
FROTMOND. 137
bodies and hair covered with ashes, were enjoined thus
to visit the sacred places. They went first to Rome,
where Benedict III. received them and gave them
letters of recommendation. Thence they went by sea
to Palestine, and spent four years in Jerusalem, practis-
ing every kind of austerity and mortification. Thence,
because their penance was not hard enough, they went
to the Thebaid in Egypt, where they remained two years
more among hermits the most rigid, and self-tormentors
the most cruel. They then wandered along the shores of
the Mediterranean to Carthage, where was the tomb of
Saint Cyprian. After seven years of suffering they
returned to Rome, and begged for the pardon of the
Church. It was in vain. They had murdered a church-
man ; they were of noble birth ; and the example must
be striking. And once more they set off for a renewal
of their weary travels in lands already familiar to them.
This time, after revisiting Jerusalem, they went north
to Galilee, and then south to Sinai, where they re-
mained for three years. Again they returned to Rome
and again implored the pardon of the Pope, again to
be refused. And then, tired, we may suppose, of suffer-
ings which seemed useless, and fatigues without an
object, they bent their steps homewards. At Rennes
the eldest brother died, unforgiven. Frotmond turned
his steps once more towards Rome. But on the way
he was met by an aged man. ' Return,' said he, ' to
the sanctuary which thou hast quitted. I order thee,
in the name of the Lord ! It is there that absolution
waits thee by the mercy of God.'
He turned back : the weight of his chains had bent
him double, he could not stand upright, the sores
which the iron had caused were putrefying, and
the time of his deliverance from the earth seemed to
i 3 8 JERUSALEM.
draw nigh. In the night the same old man appeared
again, accompanied by two fair youths. ' Master,' said
one, ' it is time to restore health to this pilgrim.' ' Not
yet,' replied the old man, ' but when the monks shall
rise to chant the vigils.' At the hour of vigils Frot-
mond crawled with the rest into the church. There he
fell asleep, and while he slept, the old man appeared
again and tore off the chains, which fell to the ground,
and by the noise of their falling awakened Frotmond.
They placed him in a bed, and in three days he was
well and sound again, miraculously cured of his fester-
ing sores ; but he was not yet satisfied, and was pre-
paring for a third pilgrimage when he fell ill and died.
The old man and the dream : were they his disguise for
a resolution to endure no more the tyranny of the
Church ? or were they the invention of a later time, and
of some bolder spirit than the rest, who would not allow
that to Rome alone belonged the power of binding and
of loosing ?
With the passion for pilgrimages grew up the desire
to find and to possess relics. These, towards the end
of the tenth century, when a general feeling that the
end of the world was approaching caused the building
of new churches everywhere and the reconstruction of
old ones, were found in great abundance. ' Thanks to
certain revelations and some signs,' says Raoul the
Bald, ' we succeeded in finding holy relics, long hidden
from human eyes. The saints themselves, by word of
God, appeared to the faithful and reclaimed an earthly
resurrection.' The revelations began at Sens-sur-
Yonne, in Burgundy, where they still show a goodly
collection of holy bones, including the finger with
which Luke wrote his Gospel, and the chair in which
he sat while he was writing it. Archbishop Leuteric
THE SEPTEMBER FAIR. 139
was so fortunate as to find a piece of Moses' rod ;
with this many miracles were wrought. Almost every
returning pilgrim had something which he had either
picked up, or bought, or been instructed in a vision of
the night to bring home with him. This treasure he
deposited in the parish church : pious people set it
with pearls and precious stones, or enclosed it in a
golden casket : stories grew up about it, sick people
resorted to the place to be cured, and one more legend
was added to the innumerable fables of relics. It is
useful to remember, as regards the pilgrimages, the
finding of relics, and the strange heresies of the time,
that it was a period of great religious excitement, as
well as of profound ignorance : nothing was too
wonderful to be believed ; no one so wise as not to be
credulous. No one had actually seen a miracle with
his own eyes, but everybody knew of countless miracles
seen by his neighbour's eyes. Meantime the toleration
granted to the Christians through the wisdom of Harun
er Raschid continued pretty well undisturbed for many
years, and life at least was tolerably safe, though insult
might be probable and even certain.
Commerce, the great civilizer, had its own part, too,
in keeping the peace between Christian and infidel.
On the fifteenth of every September there was held a
kind of fair in Jerusalem. Thither flocked merchants
from Pisa, Venice, Genoa, and Marseilles, eager to
satisfy at once their desire for gain, and their desire to
obtain a reputation for piety. And for a short time
Jerusalem seems to have served as the chief emporium,
whither the East sent her treasures, to sell them to the
West.
The objects in demand at this fair were those which
were luxuries to the West : cloves, nutmegs, and mace
i 4 o JERUSALEM.
from India ; pepper, ginger, and frankincense by way
of Aden; silks from India and China; sugar from
Syria ;* dates, cassia, and flax from Egypt ; and
from the same country quicksilver, coral, and metals ;
glass from Tyre ; almonds, saffron, and mastic, with
rich stuffs and weapons from Damascus ; and dyed
stuffs from Jerusalem itself, when the Jews had a
monopoly, for which they paid a heavy tax, for dyeing.f
Gold in the West was scarce, and the trade was
carried on either by exchange or by means of silver.
The chief traders were the Italians, but the French,
especially through the port of Marseilles, were great
merchants, and we find Guy de Lusignan, King of
Jerusalem, according to French traders singular
privileges and immunities, solely in reward for their
assistance at Saint Jean d'Acre.
There can be no doubt that this trade had a great
deal to do with pilgrimages. The two motives which
most of all persuade men cheerfully to incur danger are
religion and gain. When were the two more closely
allied than in those comparatively peaceful times when
Jerusalem was open both to worshippers and traders ?
With his money-bags tied to his girdle, the merchant
could at once perform the sacred rites which, as most
believed, made him secure of heaven, and could
purchase those Eastern luxuries for which the princes
of the West were ready to pay so dearly. A state of
* Albert of Aix speaks of the Crusaders first coming upon the
sugar-cane : 'The people sucked sweet reeds which were found in
abundance in the meadows, called zucra. . . . This reed is grown
with the greatest care every year ; at the time of harvest the natives
crush it in mortars, and collect the juice in vessels, when they leave
it till it hardens, and becomes white like snow or salt.'
f See Memoires de FAcade'mie des Inscriptions. M. de Guignes
sur l'e'tat du commerce des Francois dans le Levant avant les
Croisades.
EL HAKEM. 141
things, however, so favourable to the general welfare of
the world could not be expected to last very long.
Luxury and sensuality destroyed the Abbassides, and
their great kingdom fell to pieces. Then Nicephorus
Phocas, Emperor of Constantinople, saw in the weakness
of the Mohammedans the opportunity of the Christians.
With wisdom worthy of Mohammed, he resolved on
giving his invasion a religious character, and en-
deavoured to persuade the clergy to proclaim a holy
war. These, however, refused to help him ; religion
and the slaughter of the enemy were not to be con-
founded, and the great army of Nicephorus, which
might have been made irresistible, was disheartened for
I want of that spirit which makes every soldier believe
himself a possible martyr. The Greek Emperor took
Antioch, but was prevented by death from following up
his success, while the Patriarch of Jerusalem was con-
demned to the flames on suspicion of having corre-
sponded with the Greeks. But before the taking of
Antioch troubles had befallen the Christians. The
Church of the Holy Sepulchre was greatly injured by
the fanatics, who took every opportunity of troubling
their victims. When it had been restored, the
patriarch was cast into prison on a charge of having
built his church higher than the Mosque of Omar. He
got off by a singular artifice. An old Mohammedan
offered, for a consideration, to show him a way of
escape. His offer being accepted, he simply told the
patriarch to deny the fact, and call on them to prove it.
The plan succeeded ; the charge, though perfectly true,
could not be proved, and the patriarch escaped.*
At this period the massacre of an immense number
* Williams's ' Holy City,' vol. i., pp. 338, 339.
142 JERUSALEM.
of Mohammedan pilgrims on their way to Mecca led to
the substitution for thirty years of Jerusalem for Mecca.*
The city thus had two streams of pilgrims, one to
the Holy Rock, the Mosque of Omar, and the other to
the Holy Cave, the Sepulchre of Christ. Nicephorus
being murdered, John Zimisces, his successor and
murderer, followed up his victories. He easily gained
possession of Damascus and Syria, and reduced to sub-
mission all the cities of Palestine. He did not, how-
ever, enter Jerusalem, to which he sent a garrison.
Deatht interrupted his victorious career, and Islam
once more began to recover its forces. The Fatemite
caliphs, who had succeeded in establishing themselves
in Egypt, made themselves masters of Jerusalem, and
though for a short time the Christians were treated
rather as allies and friends than as a conquered people,
the accession of Hakem was an event which renewed
all former troubles with more than their former weight.
He ordered that Jews should wear blue robes and
Christians black, and in order to mark them yet more
distinctively, that both should wear black turbans.
Christians, moreover, were at first ordered to wear
wooden stirrups, with crosses round their necks, while
the Jews were compelled to carry round pieces of wood,
to signify the head of the golden calf which they had
worshipped in the desert. The destruction of the
Church of the Holy Sepulchre by this madman has
been already alluded to. J For another account of the
* See Chap. V.
f After having murdered Nicephorus, he was himself poisoned
by Basil, his grand chamberlain, who succeeded him. In the Greek
empire murder seems to have formed the strongest title to the crown.
% If there is any one fact in history which seems absolutely clear
and certain, it is this, that the Church of the Holy Sepulchre was
destroyed by command of Hakem. William of Tyre expressly
describes the reconstruction of the church. Raoul, as shown above,
tells how the news of the destruction was received. All the Arabic
historians record the event.
ROBERT OF ORLEANS. 143
same transaction and of the causes which led to it we
are indebted to Raoul the Bald (Glaber), who describes
the excitement produced in Europe by this act. ' In
the year 1009,' he says, though his date appears to be
wrong by one year, ' the Church of the Sepulchre was
entirely destroyed by order of the Prince of Babylon.
. . . The devil put it into the heads of the Jews to
whisper calumnies about the servants of the true
religion. There were a considerable number of Jews
in Orleans, prouder, more envious, and more audacious
than the rest of their nation. They suborned a vaga-
bond monk named Robert, and sent him with secret
letters, written in the Hebrew character, and for better
preservation enclosed in a stick, to the prince of
Babylon. Therein they told how, if the Prince did
not make haste to destroy the shrine at which
the Christians worshipped, they would speedily take
possession of his kingdom and deprive him of his
honours. On reading the letter, the prince fell into
fury, and sent to Jerusalem soldiers charged with the
order to destroy the church from roof to foundation.
This order was but too well executed ; and his satellites
even tried to break the interior of the Sacred Sepulchre
with their iron hammers, but all their efforts were use-
less. ... A short time after, it was known beyond a
doubt that the calamity must be imputed to the Jews,
and when their secret was divulged, all Christendom
resolved with one accord to drive out the Jews from
their territory to the very last. They became thus the
object of universal execration. Some were driven out,
some massacred by the sword, some thrown into the
sea, or given up to different kinds of punishment.
Others devoted themselves to voluntary deaths : so
that, after the just vengeance executed upon them,
144 JERUSALEM
very few could be seen in the Roman world. . . . These
examples of justice were not calculated to inspire a
feeling of security in the mind of Robert when he came
back. He began by looking for his accomplices, of
whom there were still a small number in Orleans ; with
them he lived familiarly. But he was denounced by a
stranger, who had made the journey with him, and
knew perfectly well the object of his mission. He is
seized, scourged, and confesses his crime. The ministers
of the king take him without the city, and there, in the
sight of all the people, commit him to the flames.
Nevertheless, the fugitive Jews began to reappear in the
cities, and there is no doubt that, because some must
always exist as a living testimony to their shame, and
the crime by which they shed the blood of Christ, God
permitted the animosity of the Christians to subside.
However that may be by the divine will, Maria, mother
of the Emir, Prince of Babylon, a very Christian
princess, ordered the church to be rebuilt with square
and polished stones the same year And there
might have been seen an innumerable crowd of
Christians running in triumph to Jerusalem from all
parts of the world, and contending with one another
in their offerings for the restoration of the house of
God.'
It was an unlucky day for the Jews when Robert
went on his embassy, whatever that was, to the East.
But a renewal of the religious spirit in the West was
always attended by a persecution of the Jews. No
story was too incredible to be believed of them, no
violence and cruelty too much for them. When the
Crusades began, almost the first to suffer were the hap-
less Jews, and we know how miserable was their
situation as long as the Crusading spirit lasted. Even
FULKE THE BLACK. 145
when this was dying out, when the Christians and the
Saracens were often firm friends, the Jews alone shared
none of the benefits of toleration. To be a descendant
of that race by whom Christ was crucified, was to be
subjected to the very wantonness of cruelty and perse-
cution.
One of the principal sights in Jerusalem then, as now,
though the Latins have long since given it up, was the
yearly appearance of the holy fire. Odolric was witness,
not only of this, but of another and a more unusual
miracle. For while the people were all waiting for the
fire to appear, a Saracen began to chant in mockery the
Kyrie Eleison, and snatching a taper from one of the
pilgrims, he ran away with it. ' But immediately,'
says Raoul, ' he was seized by the devil, and began to
suffer unimaginable torments. The Christian who had
been robbed regained his taper, and the Saracen died
immediately after in the arms of his friends.' This
example inspired a just terror into the hearts of the
infidels, and was for the Christians a great subject of
rejoicing. And at that very moment the holy fire burst
out from one of the same lamps, and ran from one to
the other. Bishop Odolric bought the lamp which
was first lit for a pound of gold, and hung it up in his
church at Orleans, ' where it cured an infinite number
of sick.'
One can easily understand the growth of stories such
as that of the stricken Saracen. An age like the tenth
was little disposed to question the truth of a miracle
which proved their faith. Nor was it likely to set
against the one Saracen who died in torture after
insulting the Cross the tens of thousands who insulted it
with impunity. The series of miracles related by Raoul
and others are told in perfect good faith, and believed
10
146 JERUSALEM.
by those to whom they were related as simply as they
were believed by those who told them. And we can
very well understand how they helped, in a time when
hardly any other thing would have so helped, to
maintain the faith of a people, coarse, rough, unlettered,
and imaginative.
The destruction of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre,
the stories spread abroad about the miraculous preser-
vation of the cave, and its rebuilding in ioio, all served
to increase the ardour of pilgrims. And there had been
another cause already mentioned. Throughout western
Christendom a whisper ran that the end of the world
was approaching. A thousand years had nearly elapsed
since the Church of Christ was founded. The second
advent of the founder was to happen when this period
was accomplished : the advent was to take place in
Palestine ; happy those who could be present to
welcome their Lord. Therefore, of all conditions and
ranks in life, from the lowest to the highest, an innumer-
able multitude of pilgrims thronged to Jerusalem. And
so deep was the feeling that the end of all things was
at hand, that legal documents were drawn up begin-
ning with the words, ' Appropinquante etenim mundi
termino et ruinis crebrescentibus jam certa signa
manifestantur, pertimescens tremendi judicii diem.'
Among the best known pilgrims of the last century
before the Crusades is Fulke the Black, Count of
Anjou. He was accused, and justly, of numerous acts
of violence. But he had also violated the sanctity of a
church, and for this pardon was difficult to obtain.
Troubled with phantoms which appeared to him by
night, the offspring of his own disordered conscience,
Fulke resolved to expiate his sins by a pilgrimage.
After being nearly shipwrecked on his voyage to Syria
FULKE THE BLACK. 147
— the tempest appeared to him a special mark of God's
displeasure — he arrived safely in Jerusalem, and caused
himself to be scourged through the streets, crying
aloud, ' Lord, have mercy on a faithless and perjured
Christian ; on a sinner wandering far from his own
country.' By a pious fraud he obtained admission to
the Church of the Holy Sepulchre : and we are told
that, while praying at the tomb, the stone miraculously
became soft to his teeth, and he bit off a portion of it
and brought it triumphantly away. Returned to his
own country, Fulke built a church at Loches in imita-
tion of that at Jerusalem. Tormented still by his
conscience, he went a second time as a pilgrim to
Palestine, and returning safely again, he occupied himself
for many years in building monasteries and churches.
But he could not rest in quiet, and resolved for the
good of his soul to make a third pilgrimage. This he
did, but died on his way home at Metz. A very
different pilgrim was Raymond of Plaisance. Born of
poor parents, and himself apprenticed to a shoemaker,
Raymond's mind was distracted from the earliest age
by the desire to see Palestine. He disguised his anxiety
for a time, but it became too strong for him, and he
fell ill and confessed his thoughts to his mother. She,
a widow, resolved to accompany him, and they set off
together. They arrived safely at Jerusalem, and wept
before the sepulchre, conceiving, we are told, a lively
desire to end their days there and then. This was not
to be, however. They went on to Bethlehem, thence
to Jerusalem again, and thence homewards. On board
the ship Raymond was seized with an illness, and
the sailors wanted to throw him overboard, thinking,
according to the usual sailors' superstition, that a
sick man would bring disaster. His mother, however,
10 — 2
48 JERUSALEM.
dissuaded them, and he quickly recovered. But the
mother died herself shortly after landing in Italy, and
Raymond went on alone. He was met at Plaisance by
a procession of clergy and choristers, and led to the
cathedral, where he deposited his palm-branch, sign of
successful pilgrimage, and then returned to his shoe-
making, married, and lived to a good old age — doubt-
less telling over and over again the stories of his
travels.
And now began those vast pilgrimages when
thousands went together, ' the armies of the Lord,' the
real precursors of the Crusades. Robert of Normandy
(a.d. 1034), like Fulke the Black, anxious to wipe out his
sins, went accompanied by a great number of barons
and knights, all barefooted, all clothed with the
penitential sackcloth, all bearing the staff and purse.
They went by Constantinople and through Asia Minor.
There Robert was seized with an illness, and being
unable to walk, was borne in a litter by Saracens.
' Tell my people,' said the duke, ' that you have seen me
borne to Paradise by devils ;' a speech which shows
how far toleration had spread in those days. Robert
found a large number of pilgrims outside the city unable
to pay the entrance-money. He paid for all, and after
signalizing himself by numerous acts of charity he
returned, dying on the way in Bithynia, regretting
only that he had not died sooner, at the sacred shrine
itself.
To die there, indeed, was, as we have seen in the
case of Raymond, a common prayer. The form of
words is preserved : ' Thou who hast died for us, and
art buried in this sacred place, take pity on our misery,
and withdraw us from this vale of tears.' And the
Christians preserved the story of one Lethbald, whose
LIETBERT. 149
prayer was actually answered, for he died suddenly in
the sight of his companions, after crying out three
times aloud, ' Glory to thee, O God !'
Sometimes, but seldom, a sort of missionary spirit
would seize a pilgrim, and he would try to convert the
infidels. Thus Saint Macarius of Armenia, Bishop of
Antioch, learned Arabic and Hebrew, and going to
Jerusalem, began to preach to the Jews and Saracens.
Of course he was beaten and thrown into prison. And
we need not record the miracles that happened to him
therein.
Richard, Abbot of Saint Vitou, left Normandy at
the head of seven hundred pilgrims, with whom was
Saint Gervinus. There are accounts preserved of this
pilgrimage, which offers little of interest except the
miracles which were wrought for Richard.
Lietbert, in 1054, Bishop of Cambray, headed a band
no fewer than three thousand. They followed the road
which the Crusaders were afterwards to take, through
Hungary and Bulgaria. Here many of his men were
disheartened and wished to return, but he persuaded
them to go on. They passed into Asia Minor, but only
got as far as Laodicea, where they heard that the
Church of the Sepulchre was finally closed to Chris-
tians. Most of the pilgrims set off on their way
home. Lietbert persevered, and embarked with a few
for Jaffa. They were shipwrecked on the isle of
Cyprus. Again they took ship for Jaffa, and again
they failed, being landed again at Laodicea. After
so many disappointments, Lietbert lost courage, and
went home again without accomplishing his pil-
grimage.
The most important of all the pilgrimages, however,
was that of the Archbishop of Mayence, accompanied
150 JERUSALEM.
by the Bishops of Utrecht, Ramberg, and Ratisbon,
and by seven thousand pilgrims of every rank. They
were not dressed, as was the wont of pilgrims, in sack-
cloth, but wore their most costly robes ; the bishops
in dress of state and cloth of gold, the knights with
burnished arms and costly trappings.
The army, for an army it was, too well equipped to
escape without attack, too small to insure victory in
case of attack, followed the usual route across Asia
Minor from Constantinople. It was not, however, till
they were near Ramleh, almost within sight of Jeru-
salem, that the pilgrims were actually attacked, and
then not by the Saracens, but by a large troop of Arabs,
whom they attempted at first to repel by blows with
their fists. Many were wounded, including the Bishop
of Utrecht. They drove off the enemy for the moment
with stones, and retired to a ruined fort, which was
fortunately near the spot, where they cowered behind
the falling walls. The Arabs came on with shrill cries ;
the Christians, nearly unarmed, rushed out and tore
their swords and bucklers from them. But they were
obliged to fall back, and the Arabs, getting reinforced,
encamped round the fort to the number of twelve
thousand, and resolved to starve out the enemy.
The Christians held a hasty council. ' Let us,' urged
a priest, * sacrifice our gold, which is all that the infidels
want ; having that, they will let us go free.' This
advice was adopted, and on a parley being held, the
chief of the Arabs, with a small body of seventeen men,
consented to enter the fort and come to terms. The
Bishop of Mayence, who was the stateliest and hand-
somest man among the Christians, was chosen to speak
with him. He proposed, in return for freedom and
safety, to hand over to the Arabs all the treasure in the
THE BISHOPS' PIL GRIM A GE. i ! i
hands of the Christians. ' It is not for you,' replied
the Arab, ' to make terms with your conquerors !' And
taking off his turban, as we are told, as a modern
Bedawi would do with his head-dress under similar cir-
cumstances, he threw it, like a halter, round the neck
of the bishop. The Christian prelate was not pre-
pared for a reception so rude, and fairly knocked him
down with a blow from his fist, upon which the
knights set upon the whole eighteen Arabs, and bound
them tightly. The news of the detention of their chief
quickly spreading outside, the Arab army commenced
a furious attack, which would have been fatal to the
Christians but for a stratagem which procured them
some little delay. For the Christians, holding swords
to the throats of their prisoners, promised to use their
heads as missiles if the attack were continued ; and the
chieftain's son, in alarm for his father, hastened from
rank to rank, imploring the men to desist. And at this
juncture arrived the Emir of Ramleh with troops, at
sight of whom the Arabs turned and fled. The Arab
chieftain remained a prisoner. ' You have delivered
us,' said the emir, ' from our greatest enemies.' And
so, with congratulations, and in friendship, they
marched to Jerusalem, which they entered in a kind
of triumph by torchlight, with the sound of cymbals
and trumpets. They were received by the Patriarch
Sophronimus, and made the round, next day, of the
sacred places, still bearing the marks of the destruction
wrought by Hakem fifty years before.
And now approached the period of the first Crusade.
All these pilgrimages were like preparatory and ten-
tative expeditions ; the final provocations were yet to
come which should rouse the Christians to unanimous
action.
152 JERUSALEM.
In the year 1077 the city had been taken, after hold-
ing out till the defenders were in danger of starvation,
by Atsiz the Kharesmian, and transferred from the
Fatemite Caliph of Egypt to the Abbasside Khalif.
After the defeat of Atsiz at Gaza, a rebellion was
attempted in Jerusalem, which resulted in the massacre
of three thousand of the people. Atsiz called in
Tutush, brother of Melek Shah, to his assistance.
Tutush came, but instead of helping Atsiz, he arrested
and executed him, and proceeded to make himself
master of Syria. A Turk, named Ostok, was made
Governor of Jerusalem, and fresh persecutions began
for the Christians. The Turks had now conquered the
whole of Asia Minor. Too few in number to occupy
the whole country, they held the towns by garrison, the
effeminate Greeks having fallen an easy prey to them.
But before this event, the Emperor Michael Ducas,
foreseeing the conquest of his country unless the
Mohammedans were driven back, had written to Pope
Gregory VIII., imploring the assistance of the Western
Christians, and offering to throw down the barriers
which separated the two Churches. Gregory quickly
matured a complete plan of united action on the part
of all the Christians. The price of the assistance
of Western Europe was to be the submission of the
Eastern Church. The conquest of Palestine was to be
the triumph of Rome. Gerbert had entertained a
similar dream ; but Gregory did more than dream.
He exhorted the Christians to unite in the Holy War,
and obtained fifty thousand promises : he was himself
to head the Crusade. But other schemes intervened,
and Gregory died without doing anything.
Victor III. did more than Gregory : he not only ex-
horted, but persuaded. The Tuscans, Venetians, and
BEFORE THE CRUSADES. 153
Genoese fitted out a fleet, fully manned and equipped,
and sent it against the Mohammedans, who were now
impeding the navigation of the Mediterranean. A signal
triumph was obtained, and the conquerors returned
laden with spoils from the towns they had captured and
burned. This was the first united effort of the
Christians against the Saracens, and perhaps the most
successful of any.
All, then, was ripe for the Crusade. The sword had
been already drawn ; the idea was not a new one ;
letters, imploring help, had been received from the
Emperor of the Greeks ; three popes had preached a
holy war ; the sufferings of the Christians went on
increasing. Moreover, the wickedness of the Western
Church was very great. William of Tyre declares that
virtue and piety were obliged to hide themselves ;
there was no longer any charity, any reverence for
rank, any hesitation at plunging whole countries in
war ; there was no longer any security for property ;
the monasteries themselves were not safe against
robbers ; the very churches were pillaged and the
sacred vessels stolen ; the right of sanctuary was
violated ; the highways were covered with armed
brigands ; chastity, economy, temperance were regarded
as things ' stupid and worthless ;' the bishops were as
dumb dogs who could not bark ; and the priests were
no better than the people.
The description of William of Tyre is vague, though
heavily charged ; but there can be no doubt that the
times were exceptionally evil. Crimes common enough
in an age distinguished above all by absence of self-
restraint and abandonment to unbridled rage, would be
naturally magnified by an historian who saw in them a
reason for the infidel's persecution of pilgrims, and an
i 5 4 JERUSALEM.
argument for the taking of the Cross. Yet, making
allowance for every kind of exaggeration, it is clear
enough that Gregory had great mischiefs to contend
with, and that the awakening of the world's conscience
by any means whatever could not but produce a
salutary effect. The immediate effect of the Crusades
was the substitution of higher for lower motives, the
sudden cessation of war, the shaming of the clergy into
something like purity of life, the absorption into the
armies of the Cross of the ' men of violence,' and
some temporary alleviation to the sufferings of the
poor.
The hour and the man were both at hand.
CHAPTER VI.
THE FIRST CRUSADE.
'The sound
As of the assault of an imperial city,
The shock of crags shot from strange engin'ry,
The clash of wheels, and clang of armed hoofs,
* * * and now more loud
The mingled battle-cry. Ha ! hear I not
'Ev tovtw v'iki). Allah-illah-AUah !'
Shelley.
Peter the Hermit, the preacher and main cause of
the first Crusade, was born about the year 1050, of a
noble family of Picardy. He was at first, like all men of
gentle birth of his time, a soldier, and fought in some at
least of the wars that were going on around him. For
some cause — no one knows why — perhaps disgusted
with the world, perhaps struck with repentance for a
criminal or dissolute life — he withdrew from his fellow-
men, and became a hermit. But it would seem that
his turbulent and unquiet spirit could not stand the
monotony, though it might support the austerities, of a
hermit's life, and he resolved about the year 1093 to
go as a pilgrim to Palestine. He found the pilgrims
miserable indeed. As most of them had been robbed
or exorbitantly charged on the road, there was not one
in a hundred who, on arrriving before Jerusalem, found
himself able to pay the fee demanded for admittance
within the gates. The hapless Christians, starving and
156 JERUSALEM.
helpless, lay outside the walls, dependent on the small
supplies which their brethren within could send them.
Many of them died ; many more turned away without
having been able to enter the city; famine, thirst, naked-
ness, and the sword of the infidel constantly thinned
their ranks, which were as constantly renewed. Even
if they got within the walls, they were not much safer :
the monasteries could do little for them, though they
did what they could ; in the streets they were insulted,
mocked, spat upon, and sometimes beaten. And in the
very churches, and during the celebration of services,
they were liable, as we have seen, to the attacks of a
fanatic crowd, who would sometimes break in upon
them, and outrage the most sacred ceremonies.
Among all the indignant and pious crowd of wor-
shippers none was more indignant or more devout than
Peter. He paid a visit to Simeon, the aged patriarch,
and wept with him over the misfortunes of the
Christians. * When,' said Simeon, 'the cup of our
sufferings is full, God will send the Christians of the
West to the help of the Holy City.' Peter pressed him
to write urgent letters to the sovereign powers of
Europe : he himself promised to exhort the people to
arm for the recovery of Jerusalem and to testify to the
statements of Simeon.
And then, to the fiery imagination of the Hermit,
strange voices began to whisper, and strange forms
began to be seen. ' Arise, Peter,' cried our Lord Him-
self to him, when he was worshipping at the Holy
Sepulchre, 'Arise, Peter. Hasten to announce the
tribulations of My people. It is time that My servants
were succoured and My sacred places delivered.' Peter
arose and departed to obey what he believed to be a
divine command. The Pope Urban, who certainly saw
PETER THE HERMIT. 157
in this an opportunity for strengthening himself against
the anti-pope, received him with ardour, real or
assumed, and authorized him to preach the Crusade
over the whole of Europe. He crossed the Alps, and
began first to preach in France. His appearance was
mean and unprepossessing, his stature low; he rode on
a mule, bare-headed and bare-footed, dressed in a gown
of coarsest stuff and with a long rope for a girdle. The
fame of his austerity, the purity of his life, the great
purpose he had on hand, went before him. The irre-
sistible eloquence of his words moved to their deepest
depths the hearts of the people. He preached in
country and in town ; on the public roads and in the
pulpits of churches ; he reminded his hearers of the
profanation of the holy places ; he spoke of the
pilgrims, and narrated his own sufferings ; he read the
letters of the venerable Simeon ; and finally he told
them how from the very recesses of the Holy Sepulchre
the voice of Jesus Himself had called aloud to him,
bidding him go forth and summon the people to the
recovery of Jerusalem. And as he spoke, the souls of
those that heard were moved. With tears, with re-
pentant sobs, with loud cries of anger and sorrow, they
vowed to lead better lives, and dedicated themselves
for the future to the service of God ; women who had
sinned, men who had led women astray, robbers who
lived by plunder, murderers rich with the rewards of
crime, priests burdened with the heavy guilt of long
years of hypocrisy — all came alike to confess their sins,
to vow amendment, to promise penance by taking the
Cross. Peter was reverenced as a saint : such homage
as never man had before was his ; they tried to get the
smallest rag of his garment ; they crowded to look upon
him, or, if it might be, to touch him. Never in the
158 JERUSALEM.
history of the world has eloquent man had such an
audience, or has oratory produced such an effect. And
in the midst of this agitation, confined as yet, be it
observed, to France, whose soil has ever been favour-
able to the birth of new ideas, came letters from the
Emperor Alexis Comnenus, urging on the princes of the
West the duty of coming to his help. The leader of the
infidels was at his very gates. Were Constantinople to
fall, Christendom itself might fall. He might survive
the loss of his empire : he could never survive the
shame of seeing it pass under the laws of Mohammed.
And if more were wanted to urge on the enthusiasm of
the people, Constantinople was rich beyond all other
cities of the world ; her riches should be freely lavished
upon her defenders ; her daughters were fairer than the
daughters of the West ; their love should be the reward
of those who fought against the Infidels.
The pope received the letters, and held a council,
first at Plaisance,then at Clermont (1094). His speech at
the latter council has been variously given; four or five
reports of it remain, all evidently written long after the
real speech had been delivered ; all meant to contain
what the pope ought to have said ; and all, as appears to
us, singularly cold and artificial. The council began by
renewing the Peace of God ; by placing under the pro-
tection of the Church all widows, orphans, merchants,
and labourers ; by proclaiming the inviolability of the
sanctuary; and by decreeing that crosses erected by
the wayside should be a refuge against violence. And
at its tenth sitting, the council passed to what was its
real business, the consideration of Peter's exhortations
and the reading of the letters of the Patriarch Simeon
and the Emperor Alexis. Peter spoke first, narrating,
as usual, the sufferings of the pilgrims. Urban followed
PREPARATION. 159
him. And when he had finished, with one accord the
voices of the assembled council shouted, ' Dieu le veut !
Dieu le veut !' ' Yes,' answered the pontiff, ' God wills
it, indeed ! Behold how our Lord fulfils his own
words, that where two or three are gathered together
in His name He will be in the midst. He it is who has
inspired these words. Let them be for you your only
war-cry.' Adhemar, Bishop of Puy, begged to be the
first to take the vow of the Crusade. Other bishops
followed. Raymond, Count of Toulouse, first of the
laity, swore to conduct his men to Palestine, and then the
knights and barons followed in rapid succession. Urban
declined himself to lead the host, but appointed Bishop
Adhemar as his deputy. Meantime he promised all
Crusaders a full and complete remission of their
sins. He promised their goods and their families
the protection of Saint Peter and the Church ; he
placed under anathema all who should do violence to
the soldiers of the Cross ; and he threatened with
excommunication all who should fail to perform their
oaths. As if the madness of enthusiasm was not
sufficiently kindled already, the pope himself went to
Rouen, to Algiers, to Tours, and to Nismes, called
councils, harangued the people, and enjoined on the
bishops the duty of proclaiming the Crusade ; and the
next year was spent in preaching, exhorting, in main-
taining the enthusiasm already kindled, and in prepar-
ing for the war. The kings of Europe, for their part,
had good reasons for holding aloof, and so took no part
in the Crusade : the King of France, because he was
under excommunication ; the Emperor of Germany,
because he was also under excommunication ; William
Rufus, because he was an unbeliever and a scoffer.
But for the rank and file, the First Crusade which was
:6o JERUSALEM.
instigated by a Frenchman was mainly recruited from
France.
Here, indeed, the delirium of enthusiasm grew daily
in intensity. During the winter of 1095-96 nothing
but the sound of preparation was heard throughout the
length and breadth of the land. It was not enough
that knights and men-at-arms should take upon them
the vows of the Cross ; it behoved every man who
could carry a pike or wield a sword to join the army of
deliverance. Artisans left their work, merchants their
shops, labourers their tools, and the very robbers and
brigands came out from their hiding-places, with the
intention of atoning for their past sins by fighting in
the army of the Lord. All industry, save that of the
forging of weapons, ceased ; for six whole months there
was no crime ; for six months an uninterrupted Peace
of God, concluded by tacit consent, while the crois4s
crowded the churches to implore the divine protection
and blessing, to consecrate their arms, and to renew
their vows. In order to procure horses, armour, and
arms, the price of which went up enormously, the
knights sold their lands at prices far below their real
value ; the lands were in many cases bought up by far-
seeing abbots and attached to monasteries, so that the
Church, at least, might be enriched, whatever happened.
No sacrifice, however, appeared too great in the en-
thusiasm of departure ; no loss too heavy to weigh for
one moment against the obligation of the sacred oath.
And strange signs and wonders began to appear in the
heavens. Stars were seen to fall upon the earth : these
were the kings and chiefs of the Saracens ; unearthly
flames were visible at night : these betokened the con-
flagration of the Mohammedan strong places ; blood-
red clouds, stained with the blood of the Infidel,
THE FIRST WAVE. 161
hovered over the east ; a sword-shaped comet, denot-
ing the sword of the Lord, was in the south ; and in
the sky were seen, not once, but many times, the
towers of a mighty city and the legions of a mighty
host.
With the first warm days of early spring the impa-
tience of the people was no longer to be restrained. Re-
fusing to wait while the chiefs of the Crusade organized
their forces, laid down the line of their march, and
matured their plans, they flocked in thousands to the
banks of the Meuse and the Moselb, clamouring for
immediate departure. Most of them were on foot, but
those who by any means could raise the price of a horse
came mounted. Some travelled in carts drawn by oxen.
Their arms were such as they could afford to buy.
Everyone, however, brandished a weapon of some kind ;
it was either a spear, or an axe, or sword, or even a
heavy hammer. Wives, daughters, children, old men,
dragged themselves along with the exultant host,
nothing doubting that they, too, would be permitted to
share the triumph, to witness the victory. From the
far corners of France, from Brittany, from the islands,
from the Pyrenees, came troops of men whose language
could not be understood, and who had but one sign,
that of the Cross, to signify their brotherhood. Whole
villages came en masse, accompanied by their priests,
bringing with them their children, their cattle, their
stores of provisions, their household utensils, their all ;
while the poorest came with nothing at all, trusting
that miracles, similar to those which protected the
Israelites in the desert, would protect them also — that
manna would drop from heaven, and the rocks would
open to supply them with water. And such was their
ignorance, that as the walls of town after town became
ii
i62 JERUSALEM.
visible on their march, they pressed forward, eagerly
demanding if that was Jerusalem.
Who should be the leader of the horde of peasants,
robbers, and workmen who came together in the spring
of 1096 on the banks of the Meuse ? Among all this
vast host there were found but nine knights : Gaultier
Sans Avoir — Walter the Penniless — and eight others.
But there was with them, better than an army of
knights, the great preacher of the Crusade, the holy
hermit and worker of miracles, Peter. To him was due
the glory of the movement : to him should be given
the honour of leading the first, and, it was believed,
the successful army. By common acclamation they
elected Peter their leader. He, no less credulous than
his followers, accepted the charge ; confident of victory,
and mounted on his mule — the mule which had borne
him from town to town to preach the war — clothed in
his monastic garb, with sandals on his feet and a cross
in his hand, he led the way.
Under his command were a hundred thousand men,
bearing arms, such as they were, and an innumerable
throng of women, old men, and children. He divided
this enormous host into two parts, keeping the larger
under his own orders, and sending on the smaller as an
advance-guard, under the knight Walter.
Walter started first. Marching down the banks of
the Rhine, he experienced no difficulties with the
Germans. These, slow to follow the example of the
fiery French, and, moreover, not yet stimulated by the
preaching of a Peter, still sympathized with the object
of the army, which they doubtless thought was but a
larger and fiercer band of pilgrims, like many that had
gone before, and assisted those who were too poor to
buy provisions, to the best of their power. Passing,
FIRST TROUBLES. 163
therefore, safely through Germany, the disorderly host,
among whom all sorts of iniquities were already rife,
entered Hungary. The Hungarians, by this time
Christianized, had yet no kind of enthusiasm for the
objects of the Crusaders or desire to aid them ; but
their King, Coloman, gave them guides through his
vast marshes and across his rivers, and permitted them
to purchase what they wanted at the public market-
places ; and by great fortune no accident happened to
them, save the beating of a few laggards after the cross-
ing of the river Maros. Judging it idle to avenge an
insult which it cost little to endure, Walter pushed on
till he reached Belgrade, the frontier town of the Bul-
garians. These were even a ruder people than the
Hungarian Christians ; they refused to recognise the
Crusaders as their brethren : although nominal sub-
jects of the Greek crown, they refused any submission
but that which was extorted by arms, and living in
the midst of inaccessible forests, they preserved a
wild and savage independence which made them the
terror of the pilgrims, whom they maltreated, and of
the Greeks, who tried to reduce them to submission.
Here the first troubles began. The Governor of
Belgrade refusing them permission to buy provisions,
the army found themselves reduced to the greatest
straits for want of food ; and seeing no other way of
help, they left the camp and dispersed about the
country, driving in the cattle, and laying hands on
everything they could find. The Bulgarians armed in
haste, and slaughtered vast numbers of marauders,
burning alive a hundred and forty who had taken refuge
in a chapel. Walter broke up his camp in haste, and
pressing on, left those to their own fate who refused to
obey his order to follow. What that fate was may
11 — 2
[64 JERUSALEM.
easily be surmised. With diminished forces, starving
and dejected, he pushed on through the forests till he
found himself before Nissa, when the governor, taking
pity on the destitute condition of the pilgrims, gave
them food, clothes, and arms. These misfortunes fell
upon them, it will be observed, in Christian lands, and
long before they saw the Saracens. Thence the
humbled Crusaders, seeing in these disasters a just
punishment for their sins — they were at least always
ready to repent — proceeded, with no other enemy than
famine, through Philippopolis and Adrianople to Con-
stantinople itself. Here the emperor, Alexis Comnenus,
gave them permission to encamp outside the town, to
buy and sell, and to wait for the arrival of Peter and
the second army.
But if the first expedition was disastrous the second
was far worse. Peter seemed to have followed at first
a somewhat different route to that of his advanced
guard. He went through Lorraine, Franconia, Bavaria,
and Austria, and entered Hungary, some months after
Walter, with an army of forty thousand men. Permis-
sion was readily granted to march through the country,
on the condition of the maintenance of order and the
purchase of provisions ; nor was it till they arrived at
Semlin, the place where their comrades had been
beaten, that any disturbance arose. Here they unfor-
tunately saw suspended the arms and armour which
had been stripped from the stragglers of Walter's army.
The soldiers, incensed beyond control, rushed upon the
little town, and, with the loss of a hundred men,
massacred every Hungarian in the place. Then they
sat down to enjoy themselves for five days. The
people of Belgrade, panic-stricken on hearing of the
fate of Semlin, fled all with one accord, headed by their
THE SECOND WAVE. 165
governor, and hurriedly carrying away everything port-
able ; and Peter, before the King of Hungary had time
to collect an army to avenge the taking of his city,
managed to transport everything to the other side of
the Danube, and pitched his camp under the deserted
walls of Belgrade. There the army, laden with spoils
of all kinds, waited to collect their treasures, which
they carried with them on their march to Nissa. They
stopped here one night, obtaining, as Walter had done,
permission to buy and sell, and giving hostages for
good conduct. All went well ; the camp was raised,
the hostages returned, and the army on its march again,
when an unhappy quarrel arose between some of the
stragglers, consisting of about a hundred Germans, and
the townspeople. The Germans set fire to seven mills
and certain buildings outside the town. Having done
this mischief they rejoined their comrades ; but the
indignant Bulgarians, furious at this return for their
hospitality, rushed after them, arms in hand. They
attacked the rear-guard, killed those who resisted,
and returned to the town, driving before them the
women and children, and loaded with the spoil which
remained from the sacking of Semlin. Peter and the
main body hastened back on receiving news of the
disaster, and tried once more to accommodate matters.
But in the midst of his interview with the governor,
and when all seemed to promise well, a fresh outbreak
took place, and a second battle began, far worse than
the first. The Crusaders were wholly 'routed and fled
in all directions, while the carnage was indiscriminate
and fearful. In the evening the unhappy Peter found
himself on an adjoining height with five hundred men.
The scattered fugitives gradually rallied, but one-fourth
of his fighting men were killed on this disastrous day,
1 66 JERUSALEM.
and the army lost all their baggage, their treasures, and
their stores ; while of the women and children by far
the greater number were either killed or taken captive.
Starving and destitute, they straggled on through the
forests, dreading the further vengeance of the Bul-
garians, until they entered Thrace. Here deputies
from the emperor met them, with reproaches for their
disorderly conduct, and promises that, should they
conduct themselves with order, his clemency would not
be wanting.
Arrived at Constantinople, and having rejoined
Walter, Peter lost no time in obtaining an audience
from the emperor. Alexis heard him patiently, and
was even moved by his eloquence ; but he advised him,
above all things, to wait for the arrival of the princes
who were to follow. Advice was the last thing these
wild hordes would listen to ; and, eager to be in the
country of the infidels — to get for themselves the glory
of the conquest — they crossed the Dardanelles, and
pitched their camp at a place called Gemlik or Ghio.
The first effervescence of zeal in Europe had not yet,
however, worked off its violence. A monk named
Gotschalk, emulating the honours of Peter, had raised,
by dint of preaching, an army of twenty thousand
Germans, sworn to the capture of the Holy Land.
Setting out as leader of this band, he followed the same
road as his predecessors and met with the same
disasters. It was in early autumn that they passed
through Hungary. The harvest was beginning, and
the Germans pillaged and murdered wherever they
went. King Coloman attacked them, but with little
success. He then tried deceit, and, persuading the
Germans to lay down their arms and to join the
Hungarians as brothers, he fell on them, and massacred
VOLKMAR. 167
every one. Of all this vast host only one or two es-
caped through the forests to their own country to tell
the tale.
One more turbulent band followed, to meet the same
fate ; but this was the worst — the most undisciplined of
all. Headed by a priest named Volkmar, and a Count
Emicon, they straggled without order or discipline,
filled with the wildest superstitions. Before their army
was led sometimes a she-goat, sometimes a goose,
which they imagined to be filled with the Holy Spirit ;
and as all sins were to be expiated by the recovery
of the Holy Land, there was a growing belief that there
was no longer any need of avoiding sin. Consequently,
the wildest license was indulged in, and this, which
called itself ' the army of the Lord,' was a horde of the
most abandoned criminals. Their greatest crime was
the slaughter of the Jews along the banks of the Rhine
and Moselle. ' Why,' they asked, ' should we, who
march against the infidels, leave behind us the enemies
of our Lord ?' The bishops of the sees through which
they passed vainly interposed their entreaties. In
Cologne and Mayence every Jew was murdered ; some
of the miserable people tied stones round their own
necks, and leaped into the river ; some killed their
wives and children and set fire to their houses, perish-
ing in the flames ; the mothers killed the infants at
their breasts, and the Christians themselves fled in all
directions at the approach of an army as terrible to its
friends as to its foes.
But their course was of short duration. At the town
of Altenburg, on the confines of Hungary, which they
attempted to storm, they were seized with a sudden
panic and fled in all directions, being slaughtered like
sheep. Emicon got together a small band, whom he
168 JERUSALEM.
led home again ; a few others were led by their chiefs
southwards, and joined the princes of the Crusade in
Italy. None of them, according to William of Tyre,
found their way to Peter the Hermit. Once across the
Dardanelles, Peter's troops, who amounted, it is said, in
spite of all their losses, to no fewer than a hundred
thousand fighting men, fixed a camp on the shores of
the Gulf of Nicomedia, and began to ravage the country
in all directions. The division of the booty soon caused
quarrels, and a number of Italians and Germans,
deserting the camp, went up the country in a body,
and took possession of a small fortress in the neigh-
bourhood of Nicaea, whose garrison they massacred.
Then they were in their turn besieged, and, with the
exception of their leader, Renaud, or Rinaldo, who
embraced the Mohammedan faith, were slaughtered
to a man. The news of this disaster roused the
Christians, not to a sense of their danger (which they
could not yet comprehend), but to a vehement desire
for revenge. They made the luckless Walter lead
them against Nicaea, and issued forth from their camp
en masse, a disordered, shouting multitude, crying for
vengeance against the Turks. But their end was at
hand. The Sultan of Nicaea placed half his army in
ambuscade in the forest, keeping the other half in the
plain ; the Christians were attacked in the front and
in the rear, and, cooped up together in confusion,
badly armed, offered very slight resistance. Walter
himself fell, one of the first ; the carnage was terrific,
and of all the hundred thousand whom Peter and
Walter had brought across the Dardanelles, but three
thousand escaped. These fled to a fortress by the sea-
shore. The bones of their comrades, whitened by the
eastern sun, long stood as a monument of the disaster,
ROUT AND MASSACRE. 169
pointing skeleton fingers on the road to Jerusalem — the
road of death and defeat.
Only three thousand, out of all these hordes, certainly
a quarter of a million in number, which flocked after
Peter on his mule ! We can hardly believe that all were
killed. Some of the women and children at least might
be spared, and without doubt their blood yet flows in
the veins of many Hungarian and Bulgarian families.
But this was only the first instalment of slaughter.
There remained the mighty armies which were even
then upon the road. As for Peter, whose courage was
as easily daunted as his enthusiasm was easily roused,
he fled in dismay and misery back to Constantinople,
having lost all authority, even over the few men who
remained with him. He inveighed against their dis-
order and their crimes, and he declared that these
were the causes of their defeat. He might have added
that his own weakness, the vanity which led him to
accept the role, offered him by an ignorant crowd, of
general as well as preacher, was no less a cause of
disaster than the disorder which it was his business to
check and combat day by day. His disappointment
was such as would be enough to kill a really proud and
strong man ; but Peter was not a strong man : in the
hour of danger he bent like the reed to the storm ; the
violence of the tempest once past, however, like the
reed, he lifted up his head again. He could preach
endurance, but he could not himself endure ; his faith
required constant stimulants, his courage the fresh fire
of continual success. Peter lifted up his head again
when he saw the splendid array of Godfrey and
Raymond ; but his old authority with the chiefs was
gone. Like a worn-out tool, he had served his purpose
and was cast aside. He had no more voice in their
i7o JERUSALEM.
councils — no more power over their enthusiasm. He
lapsed into utter insignificance, save once, when we
find him actually trying to desert the army at
Antioch and endeavouring to run away; and once,
later on, when he received a brief ovation from the
native Christians in the hour of final triumph at
Jerusalem. He returned, it maybe added, in safety to
France when the war was over, and spent sixteen
years more in honourable obscurity, the head of a
monastery. Never in the world's history, with the
exception of Mohammed alone, has one man produced
an effect so great and so immediate ; and seldom has
one man wielded an instrument so potent as Peter,
when he set forth at the head of an army which wanted
only discipline to make it invincible.
But now vexilla regis prodeunt ; armies of a different
character are assembled in the west. Foremost among
them is that headed by Godfrey de Bouillon, Duke of
Lorraine. Of him, and of his brother Baldwin, who
accompanied him, we shall have to speak again. A
word on the other chiefs of the First Crusade.
With the army of Godfrey were joined the troops
of Robert, Duke of Normandy, and Count Robert of
Flanders.
Robert, who had pledged his duchy for five years to
his brother for ten thousand marks, we all know. He
was strong, brave, and generous. But he had no other
good quality. Had his prudence, his wisdom in council,
been equal to his courage, or had his character for
temperance and self-restraint been better, he would
probably have obtained the crown of Jerusalem before
Godfrey. As it was, he went out for the purpose of
fighting ; he fought well ; and came home again, no
richer than he went. He was joined in Syria by the
THE CHIEFS. 171
Saxon prince, Edgar Atheling, the lawful heir to the
English crown ; but the chroniclers are silent as to the
prowess of the English contingent.
The other leaders who followed separately were Hugh
Vermandois, Hugh le Grand, the brother to the King of
France, and Stephen, Count of Blois, a scholar and a
poet. He it was who married Adela, daughter of
William the Conqueror, and was the father of our King
Stephen. Both of these chiefs left the Crusade at
Antioch and went home disgusted at their sufferings
and ill-success ; but, after the taking of the city,
popular opinion forced them to go out again.
Count Raymond of Toulouse, who led his own army
by an independent route, is perhaps the most difficult
character to understand. He was not pious ; he was
cold and calculating ; he was old and rich ; he had
already gained distinction by fighting against the
Moors ; he loved money. Why did he go ? It is
impossible to say, except that he had vague ambitions
of kingdoms in the East more splendid than any in the
West. He alienated a great part of his territory to get
treasure for the war, and he was by far the richest of
the princes. The men he led, the Provencaux, were
much less ignorant, less superstitious and less smitten
with the divine fury of the rest. Provence, which in two
more centuries was to be itself the scene of a crusade
as bloody as any in Palestine, was already touched
with the heresy which was destined to break out in full
violence before very many years. The Provencaux
loved music, dancing, good cheer ; but they were very
indifferent to the Church. They could plunder better
than they could pray, and they were more often
gathered round the provisions than the pulpits. It is
singular, therefore, that the most signal miracle which
172 JERUSALEM.
attended the progress of the Christian arms should
have been wrought among the Provencaux. It was so,
however : Peter Bartholomeus, who found the Holy
Lance, was a priest of Provence. Adhemar, Bishop of
Puy, himself a Provencal, the most clear-headed, most
prudent, and most thoughtful of the army, treated the
story of Peter, it is true, with disdain; nor did Ray-
mond believe it ; as was evident when, on there appear-
ing, shortly afterwards, symptoms that another miracle,
of which he saw no use, was about to happen, he sup-
pressed it with a strong hand. At the same time, he
did not disdain to make use of the Holy Lance, and the
' miracle ' most certainly contributed very largely, as
we shall see, to the success of the Christians.
The two remaining great chiefs were Bohemond and
Tancred. Bohemond, who was a whole cubit taller than
the tallest man in the army, was the son of that
Norman, Robert Guiscard, who, with a band of some
thirty knights, managed to wrest the whole of Calabria,
Apulia, and Sicily from the Greeks. On his father's
death he had quarrelled with his brother Roger over
the inheritance, and was actually besieging him in the
town of Amalfi, when the news of the Crusades reached
him. The number of those engaged, the rank of the
leaders, the large share taken by the Normans, inspired
him with the hope that here, at last, was the chance of
humiliating, and even conquering, his enemy the
Emperor of Constantinople. Perhaps, too, some noble
impulse actuated him. However that may be, he
began himself to preach a Crusade to his own army, and
with so much success — for he preached of glory and
plunder, as well as of religion — that he found himself in
a few days at the head of ten thousand horse and twenty
thousand foot. With these he joined the other chiefs
'
THE CHIEFS. 173
at Constantinople. His life was a long series of battles.
He was, like his father, crafty and sagacious; hence the
name of Guiscard — the wise one ; quite indifferent to
the main object of the Crusaders — in fact, he did not
go on with them to Jerusalem itself — and anxious
only to do the Greeks a mischief and himself some good.
With him went his cousin Tancred, the hero of
the ' Jerusalem Delivered.' The history of the First
Crusade contains all his history. After the conquest
of Jerusalem, and after displaying extraordinary activity
and bravery, he was made Prince of Galilee, and his
cousin was Prince of Antioch. Tancred is a hero of
romance. Apart from his fighting he has no character ;
in every battle he is foremost, but when the battle is
over we hear nothing about him. He appears, how-
ever, to have had a great deal of his cousin's prudence,
and united with the bravery of the lion, something, at
least, of the cunning of the fox. He died about the
year 1113.
Hugh, Count of Vermandois, who was one of the
chiefs of the army brought by Robert of Normandy,
was the third son of Henry I. of France. He was
called Le Grand, not on account of any mental or
physical superiority, but because by marriage he was
the head of the Vermandois house. He was one of
the first to desert the Crusade, terrified by the mis-
fortunes which overtook the expedition ; but, like
Stephen of Blois, he was obliged by the force of
popular opinion to go back again as a Crusader. The
second time he was wounded by the Turks near Nicsea,
and only got as far as Tarsus in Cilicia, where he died.
Like Robert of Normandy, he joined to great bravery
and an extreme generosity a certain weakness of
character, which marred all his finer qualities.
174 JERUSALEM.
Robert of Flanders seems to have been a fighting
man pure and simple — by the Saracens called ' St.
George,' and by his own side the ' Sword and Lance
of the Christians.' He, no more fighting remaining
to be done, returned quietly to his own states, with
the comfortable conviction that he had atoned for his
former sins by his conduct in the Holy War. He
enjoyed ten years more fighting at home, and then got
drowned in the River Marne ; an honest, single-minded
knight, who found himself in perfect accord with the
spirit of his age.
With these principal barons and chiefs were a crowd
of poorer princes, each with his train of knights and
men-at-arms. The money for the necessary equip-
ments had been raised in various ways : some had
sold their lands, others their seigneurial rights ; some
had pawned their states ; while one or two, despising
these direct and obvious means of raising funds, had
found a royal road to money by pillaging the villages
and towns around them.
It was not till eight months after the Council of
Clermont that Godfrey's army, consisting of ten
thousand knights and eighty thousand foot, was able
to begin its march. Fortunately, a good harvest had
been gathered in, and food of all kinds was abundant
and cheap. The army, moreover, was well-disciplined,
and no excesses were committed on its way through
Germany. It followed pretty nearly the same line as
that taken by Walter and Peter, and must have been
troubled along the whole route by news of the extrava-
gances and disasters of those who had preceded them.
Arriving on the frontiers of Hungary, Godfrey sent
deputies to King Coloman, asking permission to march
peaceably, buying whatever he had need of, through
GODFREY'S PROGRESS. I?5
his dominions. Hostages, consisting of his brother
Baldwin and his family, were given for the good
behaviour of the troops, and permission was granted ;
the King of Hungary following close on the track of
the army, in case any breach of faith should be
attempted. But none took place, and at Semlin,
when the last Crusader had crossed the river into
Bulgarian territory, King Coloman personally, and
with many expressions of friendship and goodwill,
delivered over the hostages, and parted. Getting
through the land of the Bulgarians as quickly as
might be, Godfrey pushed on as far as Philippopolis.
There he learned that Count Hugh, who had been
shipwrecked, sailing in advance of his army, on the
shores of Epirus, was held a prisoner by Alexis
Comnenus, very probably as a sort of hostage for
the good behaviour of the very host whose help he
had implored. Godfrey sent imperatively to demand
the release of the count, and being put off with
an evasive reply, gave his troops liberty to ravage
and plunder along the road — a privilege which they
fully appreciated. This practical kind of reply con-
vinced Alexis that the barbarians were not, at least,
awed by the greatness of his fame. He hastened
to give way, and assured Godfrey that his prisoner
should be released directly the army arrived at Con-
stantinople.
Meantime, the other armies were all on their way,
converging to Constantinople. The route followed by
them is not at all times clear. Some appear to have
marched through Italy, Dalmatia, and across Thessaly,
while a few went by sea ; and though the first armies
of Peter and Walter carried off a vast number of
pilgrims, there can be no doubt that these armies were
176 JERUSALEM.
followed by a great number of priests, monks, women,
and persons unable to fight.
Alexis, on hearing of Bohemond's speedy arrival, was
greatly alarmed — as, indeed, he had reason to be.
With his usual duplicity, he sent ambassadors to
flatter his formidable visitor, while he ordered his
frontier troops to harass him on his march ; and
Bohemond had alternately to receive the assurances
of the emperor's friendship, and to fight his troops.
No wonder that he wrote to Godfrey at Constantinople
to be on his guard, as he had to do ' with the most
ferocious wild beast and the most wicked man alive.'
But, in spite of his hatred, the fierce Norman found
himself constrained to put off his resentment in the
presence of Greek politeness ; and the rich gifts with
which Alexis loaded him, if they did not quiet his
suspicions, at least allayed his wrath. Alexis got rid
of his unwelcome visitors as speedily as he could.
After going through the ceremony of adopting Godfrey
as his son, and putting the empire under his protection,
he received the homage of the princes, one after the
other, with the exception alone of Tancred. And then
he sent them all across the straits, to meet whatever
fortune awaited them on the other side.
The story of the First Crusade is an oft-told tale.
But it is a tale which bears telling often. There is
nothing in history which may be compared with this
extraordinary rising of whole peoples. The numbers
which came from Western Europe cannot, of course,
be even approximately stated. Probably, counting the
women, children, and camp - followers, their number
would not be less than a million. Of these, far more
than a half, probably two-thirds, came from the pro-
vinces of France. The Germans were but slightly
IN ASIA MINOR. 177
affected by the universal enthusiasm — the English not
at all. Edgar Atheling brought a band of his country-
men to join Robert of Normandy; but these were
probably those who had compromised themselves in
former attempts to raise Northumbria and other parts
of England. The Italians came from the south, but
not from the north ; and nearly the whole of Spain was
occupied by the caliphate of Cordova. That all these
soldiers were fired with the same ardour, were led by
the same disinterested hope, is not to be supposed ;
but it is certain from every account, whether Christian
or Arabic, that the main object of their enterprise was
a motive power strong enough, of itself, to enable them
to endure hardships and privations almost incredible,
and to combat with forces numerically, at least, ten
times their superior.
The way to the Holy Land lay through a hostile
country. Asia Minor, overrun by the Mohammedans
since twenty years, was garrisoned rather than settled.
Numerous as were the followers of the Crescent, they
had not been able to do more, in their rapid march of
conquest, than to take strongholds and towns and
keep them. There were even some towns which had
never surrendered ; while of those which belonged to
them, many were held by insufficient forces, and con-
tained an element of weakness in the large number of
Christian inhabitants. And the first of these towns
which came in their way was the town of Nicaea.
The miserable remnant of Peter's army, on the
arrival of their friends, made haste to show them the
places of their own disasters. These fugitives had
lived hidden in the forest, and now, on seeing the
brassard of the Cross, emerged — barefooted, ragged,
unarmed, cowed — to tell the story of their sufferings.
12
i 7 8 JERUSALEM.
They took the soldiers to see the plain where their
great army had been massacred — there were the piles
of bones, the plain white with them ; they took them
to the camp where the women and children had been
left. These were gone, but the remains were left of
the old men and those who had tried to defend them.
Their bodies lay in the moat which had been cut round
the camp. In the centre, like a pillar of reproach,
stood the white stones which had served for the altar
of the camp.
Filled with wrath at the sight of these melancholy
objects, the soldiers cried out to be led against their
enemy ; and the whole army, preceded by four thousand
pioneers to clear the way, was marched in good order
towards Nicsea, where the enemy awaited them. The
Crusaders — they spoke nineteen different languages —
were accoutred with some attempt at similarity. The
barons and knights wore a coat of chain-armour, while
a helmet, set with silver for the princes, of steel for
knights, and of iron for the rest, protected their heads.
Round bucklers were carried by the knights, long
shields by the foot-soldiers ; besides the lance, the
sword, the arrow, they carried the mace and battle-
axe, the sling, and the terrible crossbow ; while, for a
rallying-point for the soldiers, every prince bore,
painted on his standard, those birds, animals, and
other devices which subsequently became coats-of-
arms, and gave birth to the science of heraldry.
The total number of the gigantic host amounted, it
is said, to one hundred thousand knights and five
hundred thousand foot-soldiers. But this is evidently
an exaggeration. If it is not, the losses by battle,
famine, and disease were proportionately greater than
those of any wars recorded in history.
SIEGE OF NIC&A. 179
The first operation was the siege of Nicaea — Nicaea,
the city of the great Council — and the avenging of the
slaughtered army of Peter. Nicaea stood on the low
shores of a lake. It was provided with vessels of all
kinds, by which it could receive men and provisions,
and was, therefore, practically impregnable. But the
Mohammedans, fully advertised of the approach of
their enemies, had made preparations to receive them ;
and with an immense army, all mounted, charged the
array of the Christians on the moment of their arrival
in the plains, and while they were occupied in putting
up their tents. Victory, such as it was, remained with
the Crusaders, but cost them the lives of more than
two thousand of their men. The siege of Nicaea,
undertaken after this battle, made slow progress.
While the Christians wasted their strength in vain
efforts to demolish the walls and cross the moats, the
garrison, constantly reinforced during the night by
means of the lake, held out unshaken for some weeks.
Finding out the means by which their strength was
recruited, Godfrey, by immense exertions, transported
overland from the neighbouring sea a number of light
craft, which he launched on the lake, and succeeded in
accomplishing a perfect blockade of the town. The
Nicaeans, terrified at the success of this manoeuvre and
by the fate of their most important town, were ready
to surrender at discretion, when the cunning of Alexis
Comnenus — who had despatched a small force, nomin-
ally for the assistance of the Crusaders, but really for
the purpose of watching after his own interests — suc-
ceeded in inducing the town to surrender to him alone;
and the Christians, after all their labour, had the mor-
tification of seeing the Greek flag flying over the
citadel, instead of their own. From his own point of
12 — 2
i8o JERUSALEM.
view, the Emperor was evidently right. The Crusaders
had sworn to protect his empire; he claimed sovereignty
over all these lands ; his object was neither to revenge
the death of a horde of invaders, nor to devastate the
towns, nor to destroy the country — but to recover and
preserve. Nicaea, at least, was almost within his reach ;
and though he could not expect that his authority
would be recognised in the south of Asia Minor or in
Syria, he had reason to hope that, here at any rate, so
near to Constantinople, and so recently after the oaths
of the princes, it would be recognised.
So certainly thought the princes ; for, in spite of the
unrepressed indignation of the army, they refrained
from pillaging the town and murdering the infidels,
and gave the word to march.
It was now early summer ; the soldiers had not yet
experienced the power of an Asiatic sun ; no provision
was made against the dangers of famine and thirst,
and their way led through a land parched with heat,
devastated by wars, over rocky passes, across pathless
plains. The Crusaders neither knew the country, nor
made any preparations, beyond carrying provisions for
two or three days. They were, moreover, encumbered
with their camp-followers, their baggage, and the weight
of their arms.
They were divided, principally for convenience of
forage, into two corps d'armee, of which one was com-
manded by Godfrey, Raymond, Robert of Flanders,
and the Count of Vermandois, while the other was led
by the three Norman chiefs, Robert, Tancred, and
Bohemond. For seven days all went well, the armies
having completely lost sight of each other, but con-,
fident, after their recent successes, that there would
be no more enemies at hand to combat. They were
THE BATTLE OF GORGONA. 181
mistaken. Tancred's division, on the evening of the
30th of June, pitched their camp in a valley called by
William of Tyre the Valley of Gorgona. It was pro
tected on one side by a river, on the other by a marsh
filled with reeds. The night was passed in perfect
security, but at daybreak the enemy was upon them.
Bohemond took the command. Placing the women
and the sick in the midst, he divided the cavalry into
three brigades, and prepared to dispute the passage of
the river. The Saracens discharged their arrows into
the thick ranks of the Crusaders, whose wounded
horses confused and disordered them. Unable to
endure these attacks with patience, the Christians
crossed the river and charged their enemies ; but the
Saracens, mounted on lighter horses, made way for
them to pass, and renewed the discharge of their
arrows. Another band, taking advantage of the knights
having crossed the river, forded it at a higher point,
and attacked the camp itself. Then the slaughter of
the sick and wounded, and even of the women, save
those whose beauty was sufficient to ransom their
lives, began. On the other side of the stream the
knights fought every one for himself. Tancred, nearly
killed in the melee, was saved by Bohemond ; Robert
of Normandy performed prodigies ; the camp was re.
taken, and the women rescued. But the day was not
won. Nor would it have been won but for the arrival
of Godfrey, to whom Bohemond, early in the day, had
sent a messenger. He brought up the whole of his
army, and the Saracens, retreating to the hills, found
themselves attacked on all sides. They fied in utter
disorder, leaving twenty-three thousand dead on the
field, and the whole of their camp and baggage in the
hands of the Christians. These had lost four thousand,
182 JERUSALEM.
besides the number of followers killed in the camp.
The booty was immense, and the soldiers pleased
themselves by dressing in the long silk robes of the
Mussulmans, while they refurnished themselves with
arms from those they found upon the dead. Conscious,
however, of the danger they had escaped, they were
careful to acknowledge that they would not have carried
the day, had it not been for St. George and St.
Demetrius, who had been plainly visible to many
fighting on their side ; and the respect which they con-
ceived for the Saracens' prowess taught them, at least,
a salutary lesson of caution.
While they were rejoicing, the enemy was acting.
The defeated Saracens, retreating southwards, by the
way which the Christians must follow, devastated and
destroyed everything as they traversed the country,
procuring one auxiliary at least in the shape of famine.
They had two more — thirst and heat.
The Crusaders, once more on the march, resolved not
to separate again, and formed henceforth but one army.
But they journeyed through a desert and desolate
country ; there was no food but the roots of plants ;
their horses died for want of water and forage ; the
knights had to walk on foot, or to ride oxen and asses ;
every beast was converted into a beast of burden, until
the time came when the beasts themselves perished by
the way, and all the baggage was abandoned. Their
path led through Phrygia, a wild and sterile country,
with no fountains or rivers ; the road was strewn as
they went along by the bodies of those who died of
sunstroke or of thirst ; women, overcome by fatigue and
want of water, lay down and were delivered of children,
and there died, mothers and infants ; in one terrible
day five hundred died on the march ; the falcons and
BALDWIN AND TANCRED. 183
hawks, which the knights had been unable to leave
behind, fell dead from their perches ; the hounds
deserted their masters, and went away to seek for
water ; the horses themselves, in which the hope of the
soldiers was placed, lay down and died. At last they
came to a river ; even this timely relief was fatal, for
three hundred killed themselves by drinking too much.
They rested, after this disastrous march, at Antiocheia,
the former capital of Pisidia. Here Raymond fell ill,
but happily recovered, and Godfrey was dangerously
wounded in a conflict with a bear. To account for the
discomfiture of the prince, it was recorded that the bear
was the biggest and most ferocious bear ever seen.
During their stay at Antiocheia, Tancred and
Baldwin — the former with a detachment of Italians, the
latter with one of Flemings — were sent to explore the
country, to bring help to the Christians, and report on
the means of obtaining provisions. They went first to
Iconium ; finding no enemies, they went southwards,
and Tancred, leading the way, made an easy conquest
of Tarsus, promising to spare the lives of the garrison.
Baldwin arrived the next day, and on perceiving the
flag of Tancred on the towers, insisted, on the ground
that his own force was superior in numbers, on taking
it down and replacing it by his own. A violent quarrel
arose, the first of the many which were to disgrace the
history of the Crusades. Neither would give way.
They agreed at last to refer the dispute to the inhabi-
tants. These at first gave the preference to Tancred ;
but at last, yielding to the threats of Baldwin, trans-
ferred their allegiance to him, and threw Tancred's flag
over the ramparts. Tancred withdrew, indignant, and
marched with all his men to Adana, an important place
some twenty miles from Tarsus. This he found in the
JERUSALEM.
possession of a Burgundian adventurer, who had got a
company of pilgrims to follow him, and seized the
place. History does not deign, unfortunately, to
notice the exploits of the viri obscuri, but it is clear
enough that, while the great princes were seizing states
and cities, bands of armed soldiers, separated from the
great army, were overrunning the country, taking
possession of small forts and towns, where they lived
at their own will and pleasure, till the Saracens came
and killed them all. The Burgundian was courteous to
Tancred, and helped him with provisions on his way to
Malmistra, a large and important place, before which he
pitched his camp.
But a terrible calamity had happened at Tarsus.
Baldwin got into the town, and, jealous of his newly-
acquired possession, ordered the gates to be carefully
closed and guarded. In the evening, a troop of three
hundred Crusaders, sent by Bohemond to reinforce
Tancred, arrived at the town, and asked for admission.
Baldwin refused. They pleaded the extremity of fatigue
and hunger to which a long march had reduced them.
Baldwin still refused. His own men urged him to
admit them. Baldwin refused again. In the morning
they were all found dead, killed in the night by
the Turks, who took advantage of their sleep and
exhaustion. At this spectacle the grief and rage of the
soldiers were turned against the cause of their comrades'
death. Baldwin took refuge in a tower, but presently
came out, and, lamenting the disaster of which he alone
was the cause, pointed his soldiers to the towers where
the garrison of the Saracens (prisoners, but under
promise of safety) were shut up. The Christians
massacred every one.
Here they were joined by a fleet of pirates, who,
GUYMER THE PIRATE. 185
after having been for ten years the terror of the
Mediterranean, were desirous of expiating their crimes
by taking part in the Crusade. Their leader, Guymer,
was a Boulogne man, and readily brought his men as a
reinforcement to the troops of Baldwin, his seigneur.
Baldwin left a garrison in Tarsus, and set out to rejoin
Tancred. But the death of the three hundred could
not so easily be forgotten. Tancred and his army,
maddened at the intelligence of Baldwin's approach,
clamoured for revenge, and Tancred, without much
reluctance, gave the order to attack Baldwin's camp.
A sanguinary battle followed, in which Tancred's forces,
inferior in numbers, were worsted, and obliged to with-
draw. The night brought reflection, and the next
morning was occupied in reconciliation and promises
of friendship. Malmistra was taken, and all the
Mohammedans slaughtered, and after a few more
exploits Tancred returned to the army. Baldwin,
however, whose ardour for the recovery of Jerusalem
had yielded by this time to his ambition, only saw, in
the disordered state of the country, the splendid oppor-
tunities which it presented to one who had the courage
to seize them. Perhaps the sight of the successful
Burgundian of Adana helped him to form projects of
his own ; perhaps the remarks of an Armenian named
Pancrates, who was always whispering in his ear of the
triumphs to be won by an independent line of action.
He returned to Godfrey, indeed, but only to try his
powers of seduction among the soldiers, whom he
incited to follow him by magnificent promises. The
princes were alarmed at the first news of his intended
defection ; at a council hastily assembled, it was resolved
to prohibit any Crusader, whatever his rank, from
leaving the army. Baldwin, however, the very night
1 86 JERUSALEM.
on which this resolution was carried, secretly marched
out of the camp, at the head of some twelve hundred
foot-soldiers and two hundred knights, accompanied by
his Armenian friend. His exploits, until he was
summoned back to Jerusalem, hardly concern us here.
After taking one or two small towns, and quarrelling
with Pancrates, whom he left behind, he pushed on to
Edessa, which, by a series of lucky escapes, he entered
with only a hundred knights, to become its king. Here
he must for the present be left.
Meantime, the great army of the Crusaders was
pressing on. For the moment it was unmolested.
Both Christian and Saracen had begun to conceive a
respect for each other's prowess. The latter found
that his innumerable troops of light cavalry were of
little use against the heavily-armed and disciplined
masses of the Crusaders : while these, harassed by the
perpetual renewal of armies which seemed only
destroyed to spring again from the earth, and con-
vinced now that the recovery of the Holy City would
be no holiday ramble in a sunny land, marched with
better discipline and more circumspection. But the
Saracens, unable to raise another army in time, fled
before them, leaving towns and villages unoccupied.
The Christians burnt the mosques, and plundered the
country. Even the passes of Mount Taurus were left
unguarded, and the Christian army passed through
defiles and valleys, where a very small force might have
barred the passage for the whole army. They suffered,
however, from their constant enemies, heat and thirst.
On one mountain called the ' Mountain of the Devil,'
the army had to pass along a path so narrow that the
horses were led, and the men could not walk two
abreast. Here, wearied with the ascent, faint with
SYRIA. 187
thirst, hundreds sank, unable to proceed, or fell over the
precipices. It was the last of the cruel trials through
which they were to pass before they reached the land
of their pilgrimage. From the summit of the last pass,
they beheld, stretched out at their feet, the fair land of
Syria. Covered with ruins, as it was — those ruins
which exist to the present day — and devastated by so
many successive wars, nothing had been able to ruin
the fertility of the soil ; and after the arid plains
through which they had passed, no wonder the worn
and weary soldiers rejoiced and thanked God aloud,
when they saw at last the very country to which they
were journeying. The ordeal of thirst and heat had
been passed through, and their numbers were yet
strong. Nothing now remained, as they fondly thought,
but to press on, and fight the enemy before the very
walls of Jerusalem.
The successes of Tancred cleared the way for the
advance of the main army. Nothing interposed to stop
them ; provisions were plentiful, and their march was
unimpeded by any enemy. Count Robert of Flanders
led the advance corps. At Artasia, a town about a
day's march from Antioch, the gates were thrown open
to them ; and though the garrison of Antioch threw
out flying squadrons of cavalry, they were not able to
check the advance of the army, which swarmed along
the roads, in numbers reduced, indeed, by one half,
from the six hundred thousand who gathered before
Nicaea, but still irresistible. The old bridge of stone
which crossed the Orontes was stormed, and the
Crusaders were fairly in Syria, and before Antioch.
The present governor of this great and important
town was Baghi Seyan, one of the Seljukian princes.
He had with him a force of about twenty-five thousand
JERUSALEM.
foot and horse ; he was defended by a double wall of
stone, strengthened by towers ; he was plentifully
supplied with provisions ; he had sent messengers for
assistance to all quarters, and might reasonably hope
to be relieved ; and he had expelled from the town
all useless mouths, including the native Christians.
Moreover, it was next to impossible for the Crusaders
to establish a complete line round the city, and cut him
off from supplies and reinforcements.
It was late in the autumn when the Christian army
sat down before the first place. For the first two or
three weeks the country was scoured for provisions,
and the soldiers, improvident and reckless, lived in a
luxury and abundance which they had never before
experienced. But even Syria, fertile and rich, could
not long suffice for the daily wants of a wasteful army
of three hundred thousand men. Food began to grow
scarce ; foraging parties brought in little or nothing,
though they scoured the whole country; bands of Sara-
cens, mounted on fleet and hardy horses, intercepted
straggling parties, and robbed them of their cattle ;
the fleet brought them very small supplies ; Baldwin
had as yet sent nothing from Edessa, and famine once
more made its appearance in the camp. The rains of
winter fell, and their tents were destroyed. The poor
lived on what they could find, bark and roots ; the rich
had to spend all their money in buying food ; and all
the horses died. Worse still, there was defection
among the very leaders ; Robert of Normandy went to
Laodicea, and was persuaded with great difficulty to
come back. Peter the Hermit fairly ran away, and was
brought back a prisoner to the army which his own
voice had raised. And when Bohemond and Tancred
went out, with as large a force as could be spared, to
SIEGE OF ANTIOCH.
procure provisions, they were attacked by superior
numbers, and obliged to return empty-handed. Bishop
Adhemar, seeing in the sins of the camp a just cause
for the punishments that were falling upon it, enjoined
a three days' fast, and public prayers. The former was
superfluous, inasmuch as the whole camp was fasting.
But he did more. He caused all the women to be sent
away, and all games of chance to be entirely prohibited.
The distress continued, but hope and confidence were
revived ; and when, early in the year 1098, supplies
were brought in, the army regained most of its old
bravoure. A victory gained over a reinforcement of
twenty-five thousand infidels aided in reviving the spirit
of the soldiers : it was in this action that Godfrey is
reported to have cut a Saracen completely through the
body, so that the horse galloped off with the legs and
lower part of the trunk still in the saddle. The camp
of the enemy was taken, and for a time there was once
more abundance. But the siege was not yet over. For
eight months it lingered on, defended with the obstinacy
that the Moslems always displayed when brought to bay
within stone walls. It was not till June that the town,
not the citadel, was taken, by the treachery of one
Pyrrhus, an Armenian renegade. He offered secretly to
put the town, which was in his charge, into the hands of
Bohemond. The Norman chief, always anxious to
promote his own interests, proposed, at the council of
the Crusaders, to take the town on condition that it
should be given to him. Raymond of Toulouse alone
objected — his objection was overruled ; and on the
night of the 2nd of June, Pyrrhus admitted the
Christians. They made themselves masters, under
cover of the darkness, of ten of the towers round the
walls ; and opening the gates to their own men,
i 9 o JERUSALEM.
made an easy conquest of the town in the morning,
slaughtering every Mussulman they could find. Baghi
Seyan fled, and, being abandoned by his guards, was
murdered by some Syrian woodcutters, who brought his
head to the camp. And then, once more, untaught by
their previous sufferings, the Crusaders for a few days
gave themselves up to the enjoyment of their booty.
But the citadel was not taken, and the host of Kerboga
was within a short march of the town. He came
with the largest army that the Christians had yet
encountered. Robert of Flanders defended the bridge
for a whole day with five hundred men, but was obliged
to retire, and the Christians were in their turn the
besieged.
And then, again, famine set in. The seashore was
guarded by the enemy, and supplies could not be
procured from the fleet ; the horses, and all the beasts
of burden, were slaughtered and eaten ; some of the
knights who were faint-hearted managed to let them-
selves down by ropes from the walls, and made their
way to Stephen of Blois, who had long since separated
from the main army, and was now lying at Alexandretta.
They brought such accounts of the misery of the army,
that Stephen abandoned the cause as hopeless, and set
sail with his men to Cilicia. Here he found Alexis
himself, with a large army, consisting chiefly of those
who had arrived too late to join the army of Godfrey.
The newcomers heard with dismay the accounts given
by Stephen ; they gave themselves up to lamentation
and despair ; they blasphemed the God who had
permitted His soldiers to be destroyed, and for some
days would actually permit no prayers to be offered up
in their camp. Alexis broke up his camp, and returned
to Constantinople. And when the news arrived in
THE VISION OF THE LANCE. 191
Antioch, the Crusaders, too wretched to fight or to
hope, shut themselves up in the houses, and refused
to come out. Bohemond set lire to the town, and so
compelled them to show themselves, but could not
make them fight.
Where human eloquence failed, one of those miracles,
common enough in the ages of credulity, the result of
over-heated imaginations and excited brains, succeeded.
A vision of the night came to one Peter Bartholomasus,
a monk, of two men in shining raiment. One of them,
St. Andrew himself, took the monk into the air, and
brought him to the Church of St. Peter, and set him
at the south side of the altar. He then showed him
the head of a lance. ' This,' he said, ' was the lance
which opened the side of Our Lord. See where I bury
it. Get twelve men to dig in the spot till they find it.'
But in the morning Peter was afraid to tell his vision.
This was before the taking of Antioch. But after the
town was taken, the vision came again, and in his
dream Peter saw once more the Apostle, and received
his reproaches for neglect of his commands. Peter
remonstrated that he was poor and of no account ;
and then he saw the Apostle's companion was none
other than the Blessed Lord Himself, and the humble
monk was privileged to fall and kiss His feet.
We are not of those who believe that men are found
so base as to contrive a story of this kind. There is
little doubt in our minds that this poor Peter, starving
as he was, full of fervour and enthusiasm, dreamed his
dream, not once but twice, and went at last, brimful of
pious gratitude, to Adhemar with his tale. Adhemar
heard him with incredulity and coldness. But Raymond
saw in this incident a means which might be turned to
good account. He sent twelve men to the church, and
192 JERUSALEM.
from morning till night they dug in vain. But at length
Peter himself, leaping into the hole they had made,
called aloud on God to redeem His promise, and pro-
duced a rusty spear-head. Adhemar acquiesced with
the best grace in his power ; the lance was exhibited to
the people the next morning, and the enthusiasm of the
army, famished, and ragged, and dismounted, once
more beat as high as when they sewed the red Cross
badge upon their shoulders, and shouted ' Dieu le veut.'
They had been besieged three weeks ; all their horses,
except three hundred, were killed. Their ranks were
grievously thinned, but they went out to meet the
enemy with such confidence that the only orders given
related to the distribution of the plunder. As they
took their places in the plain, Adhemar raised their
spirits by the announcement of another miracle.
St. George, St. Maurice, and St. Demetrius, had
themselves been distinctly seen to join the army,
and were in their midst. The Christians fought as
only religious enthusiasts can fight — as the Moham-
medans fought when the Caliph Omar led his
conquering bands northwards, with the delights of
heaven for those who fell, and the joys of earth for
those who survived. The Moslems were routed with
enormous slaughter. Their camp, rich and luxurious,
fell into the hands of the conquerors ;* plenty took the
place of starvation ; the common soldiers amused
themselves with decking their persons with the silken
robes they found in the huts ; the cattle were driven to
the town in long processions ; and once more, forgetful
* Among the spoils taken by the Christians one of the chroniclers
reports a mass of manuscripts, 'on which were traced the sacri-
legious rites of the Mohammedans in execrable characters,' doubt-
less Arabic. Probably among these manuscripts were many of the
greatest importance. Nothing is said about their fate, but of course
they were all destroyed.
MARCH ON JERUSALEM. 193
of all but the present, the Christians revelled and
feasted.
The rejoicings had hardly ceased when it was found
that another enemy had to be encountered. Battle was
to be expected ; famine had already twice been experi-
enced ; this time it was pestilence, caused, no doubt,
by the crowding together of so large an army and the
absence of sanitary measures. The first to fall was the
wise and good Adhemar, most sensible of all the chiefs.
His was a dire loss to the Crusaders. Better could
they have spared even the fiery Tancred or the crafty
Bohemond. The Crusaders, terrified and awe-stricken,
clamoured to be led to Jerusalem, but needs must that
they remained till the heats of summer passed, and
health came again with the early winter breezes, in
their camp at Antioch.
It was not till November that they set out on their
march to Jerusalem. The time had been consumed in
small expeditions, the capture of unimportant places,
and the quarrels of the princes over the destination of
Antioch, which Bohemond claimed for himself. Their
rival claims were still unsettled, when the voice of the
people made itself heard, and very shame made them,
for a time at least, act in concert, and the advance
corps, led by Bohemond, Robert of Normandy, and
I Raymond of Toulouse, began their southward march
with the siege of Marra, an important place, which
they took, after three or four weeks, by assault. Fresh
: disputes arose about the newly-acquired town, but the
1 common soldiers, furious at these never-ending delays,
ended them by the simple expedient of pulling down
the walls. It was the middle of January, however,
I Defore they resumed their march. From Marah to
; Capharda, thence along the Orontes, when the small
*3
194 JERUSALEM.
towns were placed in their hands, to Hums, when they
turned westward to the sea, and sat down before the
castle of Area till they should be joined by the main
body, which was still at Antioch. It came up in April,
and the army of the Crusaders, united again, were
ready to resume their march, when they were
interrupted by more disputes. In an ill - timed
hour, Bohemond, the incredulous Norman, accused
Raymond of conniving with Peter to deceive the
army by palming off upon them an old rusty lance-
head as the sacred spear which had pierced the side
of the Lord. Arnold, chaplain to Duke Robert of
Normandy, was brought forward to support the
charge. He rested his argument chiefly on the fact
that Adhemar had disbelieved the miracle : but he con-
tended as well that the spear-head could not possibly
be in Antioch. He was confuted in the manner
customary to the time. One bold monk swore that
Adhemar, after death, for his contumacy in refusing
to believe in the miracle, had been punished by having
one side of his beard burned in the flames of hell, and
was not permitted a full enjoyment of heaven till the
beard should grow again. Another quoted a prophecy
of St. Peter, alleged to be in a Syrian gospel, that the
invention of the lance was to be a sign of the deliver-
ance of the Christians ; a third had spoken personally
with St. Mark himself; while the Virgin Mary had
appeared by night to a fourth to corroborate the story.
Arnold pretended to give way before testimony so
overwhelming, and was ready to retract his opinion
publicly, when Peter, crazed with enthusiasm, offered
to submit his case to the ordeal of fire. This method
was too congenial to the fierce and eager spirits of the
Crusaders to be refused. Raymond d'Agiles, who was
a witness, thus tells the story :
THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 195
' Peter's proposition appeared to us reasonable, and
after enjoining a fast on Peter, we agreed to kindle the
fire on Good Friday itself.
1 On the day appointed, the pile was prepared after
noon ; the princes and the people assembled to the
number of forty thousand ; the priests coming bare-
footed and dressed in their sacerdotal robes. The pile
was made with dry branches of olive-trees, fourteen
feet long, and four feet high, divided into two heaps,
with a narrow path, a foot wide, between each. As
soon as the wood began to burn, I myself, Raymond,*
pronounced these words : " If the Lord Himself has
spoken to this man face to face, and if Saint Andrew
has shown him the lance of the Lord, let him pass
through the fire without receiving any hurt ; or, if not,
let him be burnt with the lance which he carries in his
hand." And all, bending the knee, replied, " Amen."
' Then Peter, dressed in a single robe, kneeling before
the Bishop of Albaric, called God to witness that he
had seen Jesus on the cross face to face, and that he
had heard from the mouth of the Saviour, and that of
the Apostles Peter and Andrew, the words reported to
the princes : he added that nothing of what he had
said in the name of the saints and in the name of the
Lord had been invented by himself, and declared that
if there was found any falsehood in his story, he con-
sented to suffer from the flames. And for the other
sins that he had committed against God and his neigh-
bours, he prayed that God would pardon him, and that
the bishop, all the other priests, and the people would
implore the mercy of God for him. This said, the
bishop gave him the lance.
* Peter knelt again, and making the sign of the cross,
* He was chaplain to Count Raymond of Toulouse.
13—2
196 JERUSALEM.
he reached the flames without appearing afraid. He
remained one moment in the midst of the fire, and
then came out by the grace of God. . . . After Peter
had gone through the fire, and although the flames
were still raging, the people gathered up the brands,
the ashes, and the charcoal, with such ardour that in a
few moments nothing was left. The Lord in the end
performed great miracles by means of these sacred
relics. Peter came out of the flames without even his
gown being burned, and the light veil which covered
the lance-head escaped uninjured. He made imme-
diately the sign of the cross, and cried with a loud
voice, " God help!" to the crowd, who pressed upon
him to be certain that it was really he. Then, in their
eagerness, and because everybody wanted to touch
him, and to have even some little piece of his dress,
they trampled him under their feet, cut off pieces of
his flesh, broke his back-bone, and broke his ribs. He
was only saved from being killed there and then by
Raymond Pelot, a knight, who hastily called a number
of soldiers and rescued him.
' When he was brought into our tent, we dressed his
wounds, and asked him why he had stopped so long in
the fire. " Because," he said, " the Lord appeared to
me in the midst of the flames, and, taking me by the
hand, said, ' Since thou hast doubted of the holy lance,
which the blessed Andrew showed to thee, thou shaft
not go out from this sound and safe. Nevertheless,
thou shalt not see hell.' After these words He sent
me on. See now the marks of fire on my body." And,
in fact, there were certain burnings in the legs, small
in number, though the wounds were great.'
Peter Bartholomew died the day after — of the fire,
said Bohemond, the doubter, who continued in his
ARRIVAL. 197
disbelief, in spite of the ordeal; of the injuries he had
received in the crowd, said Raymond of Toulouse.
But the authority of the lance was established, and it
was to do good service in the battles to come. The
faith of the Crusaders was kept up by many other
visions and miracles. One that had the greatest effect
was a vision seen by Anselm. To him appeared by
night Angelram, the young son of the Count of Saint
Paul, who had been killed at Marra. ' Know,' said the
phantom, ' that those who fight for Christ die not.'
'And whence this glory that surrounds you?' Then
Angelram showed in the heavens a palace of crystal
and diamonds. ' It is there,' he said, ' that I have
borrowed my splendour. There is my dwelling-place.
One finer still is preparing for you, into which you will
soon enter,' The next day Anselm, after telling of this
apparition, confessed and received the sacraments,
though full of health, and going into battle, was struck
by a stone in the forehead, and died immediately.
On their way to Tripoli,* where they first saw the
sugar-cane, the impatience of the soldiers manifested
itself so strongly that the chiefs could not venture to sit
* While they were considering which road was the easiest for
their march to Jerusalem, the Crusaders received a deputation from
a Christian people, said to be sixty thousand in number, living in
the mountains of Lebanus. They offered their sei vices as guides,
and pointed out that there were three roads : the first by way of
Damascus, level and plain, and always abound ug in provisions ;
the second over Mount Lebanon, safe from any enemy, and also
full of provisions, but difficult for beasts of burd :n ; and the third
by the sea-shore, abounding in defiles, where ' rilty Mussulmans
would be able, if they pleased, to stop the whole of mankind.'
1 But,' said these Christians, ' if you are of a verity that nation
which is to overcome Jerusalem, you must pass along the sea-shore,
however difficult that road may appear, according to the Gospel of
St. Peter. Your way, such as you have made ir, and such as you
must make it, is all laid down in that Gospel which we possess.'
What was this Gospel ? or is it only one of the credulous stories
of Raymond d' Agiles ?
193 JERUSALEM.
down before the place, but pushed on, after making a sort
of treaty with its governor. Here messengers arrived
from Alexis, entreating them to wait for him, and
promising to bring an army in July. But the time was
gone by for negotiation and delay, and taking the sea-
shore route, by which they ensured the protection of
the fleet, they marched southwards to Beirout. Sidon,
and Tyre, and Acre, were passed without much opposi-
tion, and the Crusaders arrived at Caesarea, which is
within sixty miles of Jerusalem. By marches quick
rather than forced, for the enthusiasm of the army was
once more at its height, they reached Lydda, where
the Church of St. George lay in ruins, having recently
been destroyed by the Turks, and thence to Ramleh.
Here an embassy from Bethlehem waited for them
with prayers to protect their town. Tancred, with a
hundred knights only, rode off with them. The people
received them with psalms of joy, and took them to see
the Church of the Nativity. But they would not stay.
Bethlehem is but five miles from Jerusalem, and Tan-
cred rode on in advance, eager to be the first to see the
city. He ascended the Mount of Olives unmolested,
and there found a hermit, who pointed out to him the
sacred sites. The little troop rode back in triumph to
tell the Crusaders that the city was almost within their
grasp. The soldiers, rough and rude as they were, and
stained with every vice, were yet open to the influences
of this, the very goal of their hopes. From a rising
ground they beheld at last the walls of the Holy City.
'And when they heard the name of Jerusalem, the
Christians could not prevent themselves, in the fervour
of their devotion, from shedding tears; they fell on
their faces to the ground, glorifying and adoring God,
who, in His goodness, had heard the prayers of His
THE CAMP PITCHED. 199
people, and had granted them, according to their
desires, to arrive at this most sacred place, the object
of all their hopes.'
The army which sat down before Jerusalem num-
bered about twenty thousand fighting men, and an
equal number of camp-followers,* old men, women, and
children. This was the miserable remnant of that
magnificent army of six hundred thousand, with which
Godfrey had taken Nicsea and punished the massacre of
Walter and his rabble. Where were all the rest ? The
road was strewn with their bones. Across the thirsty
deserts of Asia Minor, on the plain of Dorylseum, and
on the slopes and passes of Taurus, the Crusaders'
bodies lay unburied, while before and within Antioch,
the city of disasters, thousands upon thousands were
thrown into the river or lay in unhallowed soil. But
they were not all killed. Many had returned home,
among whom were Hugh le Grand and Stephen of
Blois ; many had left the main body and gone off in
free-handed expeditions of their own, to join Baldwin
and others. Thus we have heard of Wolf, the Bur-
gundian conqueror of Adana. Presently we find that
Guymer, the pirate of Boulogne, who joined Baldwin
at Tarsus, must have left him again, and returned to
his piratical ways, for we find him in prison at Tripoli ;
he was delivered up by the governor of Tripoli to the
Christians, after which he appears no more. Then
some had been taken prisoners, and purchased their
lives by apostacy, like Rinaldo, the Italian. And those
of the captive women who were yet young were
dragging out their lives in the Turkish harems. Pro-
bably the boys, too, were spared, and those who were
young enough to forget their Christian blood were
brought up to be soldiers of the Crescent.
JERUSALEM.
The neighbourhood of Jerusalem was covered with
light brushwood, but there were no trees ; there had
been grass in plenty, but it was dried up by the summer
sun ; there were wells and cisterns, but they had all
been closed, — 'the fountains were sealed.' Only the
pool of Siloam was accessible to the Crusaders ; this
was intermittent and irregular, and its supply, when it
did flow, was miserably inadequate for a host of forty
thousand. Moreover, its waters were brackish and
disagreeable. And the camp was full of sick, wounded,
and helpless.
On the west, east, and south sides of the city no
attack was possible, on account of the valleys by which
it was naturally protected. The Crusaders pitched
their camp in the north. First in the post of danger,
as usual, was the camp of Godfrey, Duke of Lorraine.
His position extended westwards from the valley of
Jehoshaphat, along the north wall. Next to him came
the Count of Flanders ; next, Robert of Normandy,
near whom was Edgar Atheling with his English ; at
the north-west angle was Tancred ; and lastly, the
camp of the Count of Toulouse extended along the
west as far as the Jaffa Gate. Later on, however,
Raymond moved a portion of his camp to that part of
Mount Sion stretching south of the modern wall. But
the only place where an attacking party could hope for
success was on the north. Bohemond was not with
the army. He cared less about taking the city than
wreaking his vengeance upon the Greek emperor.
Meantime, within the city was an army of forty
thousand men. Provisions for a long siege had been
conveyed into the town ; the zeal of the defenders
had been raised by the exhortations of the Imams ;
the walls were strengthened and the moats deepened.
THIRST AND HEAT. 201
Communication and relief were possible from the east,
where only scattered bands of Christians barred the
way.
Immediately before the arrival of the Crusaders,
the Mohammedans deliberated whether they should
slaughter all the Christians in cold blood, or only fine
them and expel them from the city. It was decided
to adopt the latter plan ; and the Crusaders were
greeted on their arrival not only by the flying
squadrons of the enemy's cavalry, but also by exiled
Christians telling their piteous tales. The houses had
been pillaged, their wives kept as hostages ; immense
sums were required for their ransom ; the churches
were desecrated ; and, even worse still, the Infidels
were contemplating the entire destruction of the
Church of the Holy Sepulchre. This last charge, at
least, was not true. But it added fuel to a fire which
was already beyond any control, and the chiefs gave a
ready permission to men to carry the town, if they
could, by assault. They had neither ladders nor
machines, but, covering themselves with their bucklers,
rushed against the walls and tried to tear them down
with pikes and hammers. Boiling oil and pitch, the
best weapons for the besieged, were poured upon their
heads, with huge stones and enormous beams. In
spite of heavy losses, they managed to tear down and
carry a portion of the outer wall, and the besieged retired
to their inner works, which were impregnable, at least
to hammers and pikes. One ladder, and only one, was
found. Tancred, with his usual hardihood, was the
first to place his foot on the ladder, but he was forcibly
held back by his knights, who would not allow him to
rush upon certain death. Two or three gained the
wall, and were thrown from it dead. Night put an end
202 JERUSALEM.
to the fight, and the Christians, dejected and beaten
back, retired to their camp. Heaven would work no
miracle for them, and it was clear that the city must
be taken according to the ordinary methods of warfare.
Machines were necessary, but there was no wood.
Chance threw into their possession a cavern, forgotten
by the Saracens, filled with a store of timber, which
went some way. There were still some beams in the
houses and churches round Jerusalem not yet burned.
All these were brought into the camp, but still there was
not enough. Then a Syrian Christian bethought him
of a wood six miles off, on the road to Samaria,
whither he led the Crusaders. The trees were small,
and not of the best kind, but such as they were they
had to suffice, and all hands were employed in the
construction of towers and engines of assault. They
worked with the energy of men who have but one
hope. For, in the midst of a Syrian summer, with a
burning sun over their heads, they had no water. The
nearest wells, except the intermittent spring of Siloam,
were six or seven miles away. To bring the water
into the camp, strong detachments were daily sent out ;
the country was scoured for miles in every direction
for water; hundreds perished in casual encounters with
the enemy, while wandering in search of wells ; and
the water, when it was procured, was often so muddy
and impure that the very horses refused to drink it.
As for those who worked in the camp, they dug up the
ground and sucked the moist earth ; they cut pieces of
turf and laid them at their hearts to appease the de-
vouring heat ; in the morning they licked the dew from
the grass ; they abstained from eating till they were
compelled by faintness ; they drank the blood of their
beasts. Never, not even in Antioch, not even in
THIRST AND HEAT. 203
Phrygia, had their sufferings been so terrible, or so
protracted. And, as the days went on, as the sun grew
fiercer, the dews more scanty — as the miracle, still
expected, delayed to come — some lay despairing in
their tents, some worked on in a despairing energy,
and some threw themselves down at the foot of the
walls to die, or to be killed by the besieged, crying,
' Fall, O walls of Jerusalem, upon us ! Sacred dust
of the city, at least cover our bones !'
These trials were to have an end. In the midst of
their greatest distress, the news came that a Genoese
fleet had arrived off Joppa, loaded with munitions and
provisions. A detachment of three hundred men was
sent off at once to receive them. They fought their
way to Joppa. Here they found that the Christian
ships had been abandoned to a superior Egyptian fleet,
but not till after all the stores and provisions had been
landed. With the fleet was a large number of
Genoese artificers and carpenters, whose arrival in the
camp was almost as timely as that of the wine and food.
The hopes of the Crusaders, always as sanguine as
they were easily dejected, revived again. This unex-
pected reinforcement — was it not a miracle ? and might
there not be others yet to follow ? Gaston of Beam
superintended the construction of the machines. In
the carriage of their timber, as they had no carts or
wheels, they employed their Saracen prisoners. Putting
fifty or sixty of them in line, they made them carry
beams ' which four oxen could not drag.' Raymond of
Toulouse, who alone had not spent all he had brought
with him, found the money to pay those few who were
exempted from gratuitous service. A regular service for
the carriage of water was organized, and some allevia-
tion thus afforded to the sufferings caused by thirst.
204 JERUSALEM.
Three great towers were made, higher than the
walls. Each of these was divided into three stages ;
the lowest for the workmen, and the two higher for the
soldiers. The front and sides exposed to the enemy
were cased with plates of iron, or defended by wet
hides ; the back part was of wood. On the top was
a sort of drawbridge, which could be lowered so as to
afford a passage to the wall.
All being ready, it was determined to preface the
attack by a processional march round the city. After
a fast of three days and solemn services, the Crusaders
solemnly went in procession, barefooted and bare-
headed, round the city. They were preceded by their
priests in white surplices, carrying the images of saints,
and chanting psalms ; their banners were displayed,
the clarions blew. As the Israelites marched round
Jericho, the Crusaders marched round Jerusalem, and
doubtless many longing eyes, though more in doubt
than in hope, were turned upon the walls to see if they,
too, would fall. They did not. The besieged crowded
upon them, holding crosses, which they insulted, and
discharging their arrows at the procession. But the
hearts of the rough soldiers were moved to the utmost,
not by the taunts of their enemies, but by the sight of
the sacred spots, and the memory of the things which
had taken place there : there was Calvary ; here Geth-
semane, where Christ prayed and wept ; here the place
where He ascended ; here the spot on which He stood
while He wept over the city. They, too, could see it
lying at their feet, with the Church of the Holy
Sepulchre, and the Great Mosque in the midst of the
place where had been the Temple of the Lord. These
places cried aloud to them for deliverance. Or, if they
looked behind them, to the east, they saw the banks of
PROCESSIONAL MARCH.
205
the river across which Joshua had passed, and the
Dead Sea which lay above the Cities of the Plain.
Arnold, chaplain to Duke Robert of Normandy — an
eloquent man, but of dissolute morals — harangued
them. His discourse has been preserved after the
manner of historians ; that is, we are told what he
ought to have said ; very likely, in substance, what he
did say. God, he told them, would pardon them all
sins in recompense for their recovery of the holy
places. And he made the chiefs themselves, who
had sinned by quarrelling and dissension, embrace in
presence of the whole army, and thereby set the
example of perfect union. Then they renewed, for the
last time, their oaths of fidelity to the Cross. Peter
the Hermit, who was with them, harangued them
also. And in the evening the soldiers returned to the
camp to confess their sins, to receive the Eucharist,
and to spend the night in prayer.
Godfrey alone was active. He perceived that the
Saracens had constructed on the wall opposite to the
position of his great tower works which would perhaps
render it useless. He therefore took it down, and
transported it, with very great labour, and in a single
night, to a spot which he considered the weakest in the
north wall. Here it was re-erected, to the dismay of
the besieged.
At break of day on Thursday, July 14th, 1099, the
attack began. The towers were moved against the
walls, the mangonels hurled their stones into the city,
and the battering-rams were brought into play. All
day long the attack was carried on, but to little effect,
and at nightfall, when the Crusaders returned to their
camp, the tower of Raymond was in ruins ; those of
Tancred and Godfrey were so damaged that they
2o6 JERUSALEM.
could not be moved ; and the princes were seen beating
their hands in despair, and crying that God had
abandoned them. ' Miserable men that we are !' cried
Robert of Normandy ; ' God judges us unworthy to
enter into the Holy City, and worship at the tomb of
His Son.'
The next day was Friday, the day of the Crucifixion.
At daybreak the battle began again. It went well for
the Crusaders ; the wall was broken in many places,
and the besieged with all their endeavours could not set
fire to the towers. In the middle of the day they
brought out two magicians — witches, it is said, though
one hardly believes it. They made their incantations
on the walls, attended by their maidens.* These were
all destroyed at once by stones from the mangonels.
But the day went on, and the final assault could not be
delivered for the courage and ferocity of the Saracens.
And then, the usual miracle happened. Godfrey and
Raymond, shouting that heaven had come to their
rescue, pointed to the Mount of Olives, where stood a
man, ' miles splendidus et refulgens,' one clothed in
bright and glittering armour, waving his shield as a
signal for the advance. Who could it be but St.
George himself? In the midst of a shower of arrows,
Greek fire, and stones, the tower of Godfrey was
pushed against the wall : the drawbridge fell ; Godfrey
himself was among the first to leap upon the wall.
And then the rumour ran, that not only St. George,
but Bishop Adhemar — dead Bishop Adhemar himself
— was in the ranks, and fighting against the Infidel.
The supreme moment was arrived ! A whisper went
through the troops that it was now three o'clock ; the
* Robert of Normandy might have remembered that a similar
plan had been adopted by his father against Hereward in Ely.
PLUNDER AND PRAYERS. 207
time, as well as the day, when our Lord died, on the
very spot where they were fighting. Even the women
and children joined in the attack, and mingled their
cries with the shouts of the soldiers. The Saracens
gave way, and Jerusalem was taken.
The city was taken, and the massacre of its defenders
began. The Christians ran through the streets,
slaughtering as they went. At first they spared none,
neither man, woman, nor child, putting all alike to the
sword ; but when resistance had ceased, and rage was
partly appeased, they began to bethink them of pillage,
and tortured those who remained alive to make them
discover their gold. As for the Jews within the city,
they had fled to their synagogue, which the Christians
set on fire, and so burned them all. The chroniclers
relate with savage joy how the streets were encumbered
with heads and mangled bodies, and how in the Haram
Area, the sacred enclosure of the Temple, the knights
rode in blood up to the knees of their horses. Here
upwards of ten thousand were slaughtered, while the
whole number of killed amounted, according to various
estimates, to forty, seventy, and even a hundred
thousand. An Arabic historian, not to be outdone in
miracles by the Christians, reports that at the moment
when the city fell, a sudden eclipse took place, and the
stars appeared in the day. Fugitives brought the
news to Damascus and Baghdad. It was then the
month of Ramadan, but the general trouble was such
that the very fast was neglected. No greater mis-
fortune, except, perhaps, the loss of Mecca, could have
happened to Islamism. The people went in masses to
the mosques : the poets made their verses of lamenta-
tion : ' We have mingled our blood with our tears.
No refuge remains against the woes that overpower us.
2o8 JERUSALEM.
. . . How can ye close your eyes, children of Islam, in
the midst of troubles which would rouse the deepest
sleeper ? Will the chiefs of the Arabs resign themselves
to such evils ? and will the warriors of Persia submit to
such disgrace ? Would to God, since they will not
fight for their religion, that they would fight for the
safety of their neighbours ! And if they give up the
rewards of heaven, will they not be induced to fight by
the hope of booty ?'*
Evening fell, and the clamour ceased, for there were
no more enemies to kill, save a few whose lives had
been promised by Tancred. Then from their hiding-
places in the city came out the Christians who still
remained in it. They had but one thought, to seek out
and welcome Peter the Hermit, whom they proclaimed
as their liberator. At the sight of these Christians, a
sudden revulsion of feeling seized the soldiers. They
remembered that the city they had taken was the city
of the Lord, and this impulsive soldiery, sheathing
swords reeking with blood, followed Godfrey to the
Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where they passed the
night in tears, and prayers, and services.
In the morning the carnage began again. Those
who had escaped the first fury were the women and
children. It was now resolved to spare none. Even
the three hundred to whom Tancred had promised life
were slaughtered in spite of him. Raymond alone
managed to save the lives of those who capitulated to
him from the tower of David. It took a week to kill
the Saracens, and to take away their dead bodies.
Every Crusader had a right to the first house he
took possession of, and the city found itself absolutely
* From a poem by Mozaffer el Abiwardf.
PLUNDER AND PRAYERS. 2 c 9
cleared of its old inhabitants, and in the hands of a
new population. The True Cross, which had been
hidden by the Christians during the siege, was brought
forth again, and carried in joyful procession round the
city, and for ten days the soldiers gave themselves up
to murder, plunder — and prayers !
And the First Crusade was finished.
14
CHAPTER VII.
THE CHRISTIAN KINGDOM. — KING GODFREY.
A.D. IO99 — IIOO.
Signor, ceste cite" vous l'avez conqueste ;
Or faut elire un roi dont elle soit gardde,
Et la terre environ des paiens recense'e.
Romans de Godefroi.
For seven days after the conquest of the city and the
massacre of the inhabitants, the Crusaders, very natur-
ally, abandoned themselves to rest, feasting, and services
of thanksgiving. On the eighth day a council was held,
to determine the future mode of holding and governing
their newly-acquired possessions. At the outset a
remonstrance was presented by the priests, jealous
as usual of their supremacy, against secular matters
being permitted to take the lead of things ecclesi-
astical, and demanding that, before aught else was
done, a Patriarch should be first elected. But the
Christians were a long way from Rome. The conduct
of their priests on their journey had not been such as
to inspire the laity with respect for their valour,
prudence, or morality, and the chiefs dismissed the
remonstrance with contempt.
Robert of Flanders, in this important council, was
the first to speak. He called upon his peers, setting
aside all jealousies and ambitions, to elect from their
own body one who might be found to unite the best
CHOICE OF A KING. 21 r
valour of a knight with the best virtue of a Christian.
And in a noble speech which has been preserved — if,
indeed, it was not written long after the time — he
disclaimed, for his own part, any desire to canvass
their votes, or to become the King of Jerusalem. ' I
entreat you to receive my counsel as I give it you, with
affection, frankness, and loyalty ; and to elect for king
him who, by his own worth, will best be able to preserve
and extend this kingdom, to which are attached the
honour of your arms and the cause of Jesus Christ.'
Many had begun to think of offering the crown to
Robert himself. But this was not his wish ; and
among the rest their choice clearly lay between
Godfrey, Robert of Normandy, Raymond of Toulouse,
and Tancred. Of these, Tancred and Robert were
men ambitious of glory rather than of honours. The
latter had thrown away the crown of England once,
and was going to throw it away again. With equal
readiness he threw away the crown of Jerusalem.
Raymond, who had sworn never to return to Europe,
was old and unpopular, probably from the absence of
the princely munificence and affability that distin-
guished Godfrey, perhaps also from lack of those
personal charms which his rival possessed. To be
handsome as well as brave was given to Godfrey,
but if it had ever been given to Raymond, his day of
comeliness was past. A sort of committee of ten was
appointed, whose business it was to examine closely
into the private character of the chiefs, as well as into
their prowess. History is prudently silent as to the
reports made on the characters of the rest, but we
know what was said about Godfrey. Though the
Provencal party invented calumnies against him, his
own servants were explicit and clear in their evidence.
14—2
212 JERUSALEM.
Nothing whatever could be set down against him.
Pure and unsullied in his private life, he came out of
this ordeal with no other accusation against him, by
those who were with him at all hours of the day and
night, but one, and that the most singular complaint
ever brought against a prince by his servants. They
stated that in all the private acts of the duke, the one
which they found most vexatious (absonum) was that
when he went into a church he could not be got out of
it, even after the celebration of service ; but he was
used to stay behind and inquire of the priests and those
who seemed to have any knowledge of the matter,
about the meaning and history of each picture and
image : his companions, being otherwise minded, were
affected with continual tedium, and even disgust at
this conduct, which was certainly thoughtless, because
the meals, cooked, of course, in readiness for a certain
hour, were often, owing to this exasperating delay,
served up cold and tasteless. There is a touch of
humour in the grave way in which this charge is
brought forward by the historian, who evidently enjoys
the picture of Godfrey's followers standing by and
waiting, while their faces grow longer as they think of
the roast, which is certain to be either coid or over-
done.
No one was astonished, and most men rejoiced,
when the electors declared that their choice had fallen
upon Godfrey. They conducted him in solemn pro-
cession to the Church of the Sepulchre with hymns
and psalms. Here he took an oath to respect the laws
of justice, but when the coronation should have taken
place, Godfrey put away the crown. He would not
wear a crown of gold when his Lord had worn a crown
of thorns. Nor would he take the title of king. Of
GODEFROI DE BOUILLON. 213
this, he said, he was not worthy. Let them call him
the Baron of the Holy Sepulchre. He never wore the
crown, but the voice of posterity has always given him
the name of king.
Godfrey of Lorraine, born at Boulogne in the year
1058, or thereabouts, was the son of Count Eustace,
and the nephew of the Duke of Lorraine. His brother
Baldwin, who came with him as far as Asia Minor, but
separated then from the Crusaders and gained the
principality of Edessa, was the second son. Eustace,
who afterwards became Count of Boulogne, was the
third. And his sister, Matilda, was the wife of our
King Stephen.
The story of Godfrey, who is the real hero of the
First Crusade, is made up of facts, visions, and legends.
Let us tell them altogether.
At an early age he was once playing with his two
brothers, when his father entered the room. At that
moment the children were all hiding in the folds of
their mother's dress. Count Eustace, seeing the dress
shaken, asked who was behind it. ' There,' replied the
Lady Ida, in the spirit of prophecy, ' are three great
princes. The first shall be a duke, the second a king,
and the third a count,' a prediction which was after-
wards exactly fulfilled. Unfortunately, no record exists
of this prophecy till nearly a hundred years after it was
made. Godfrey was adopted by his uncle, the Duke of
Lorraine, and, at the age of sixteen, joined the fortunes
of the Emperor Henry IV. He fought in all the cam-
paigns of that unquiet sovereign ; he it was who, at the
battle of Malsen, carried the Imperial banner, and
signalized himself by killing Rudolph of Swabia with
his own hand. He was present when, after three
years' siege, Henry succeeded in wresting Rome from
214 JERUSALEM.
Hildebrand, in 1083, and in reward for his bravery on
that occasion, he received the duchy of Lorraine when
it was forfeited by the defection of Conrad. An illness,
some time after, caused him to vow a pilgrimage to the
Holy Land, and until the Crusade started Godfrey had
no rest or peace.
During this period of expectation, a vision, related
by Albert of Aix, came to one of his servants. He saw,
like Jacob, a ladder which was all pure gold, ascending
from earth to heaven. Godfrey, followed by his servant
Rothard, was mounting this ladder. Rothard had a
lamp in his hand ; in the middle of the ascent the
lamp went out suddenly. Dismayed at this accident,
Rothard came down the ladder, and declined to relight
his lamp or to climb up again. Godfrey, however, un-
daunted, went on. Then the seer of the vision himself
took the lamp and followed his master ; both arrived
safely at the top, and there, which was no other place
than Heaven itself, they enjoyed the favours of God.
The ladder was of pure gold, to signify that pilgrims
must have pure hearts, and the gate to which it led
was Jerusalem, the gate of heaven. Rothard, whose
light went out half way, who came down in despair,
was an image of those pilgrims who take the Cross but
come back again in despair ; and he who saw the
vision and went up with Godfrey typified those
Crusaders, a faithful few, who endured unto the end.
Stories are told to illustrate the prowess of this great
and strong man. On one occasion, when he was com-
pelled to defend his rights to some land by the ordeal
of battle, his sword broke off short upon the buckler of
his adversary, leaving him not more than six inches of
steel. The knights present at the duel interposed in
order to stop a combat so unequal, but Godfrey himself
THE TRUE CROSS. 215
insisted on going on. His adversary pressed him with
all his skill and strength, but Godfrey, collecting all his
force, sprang upon and literally felled him to the
ground. Then, taking his sword from him, he broke
it across his knee, and called upon the president of the
duel to make such terms as would spare his enemy's
life.
Again, a noble Arab, desirous of seeing so great a
warrior, paid him a visit, and asked him, as a special
favour, to strike a camel with his sword. Godfrey, at
a single blow, struck off the head of the beast. The
Arab begged to speak apart with him, thinking it was
the effect of magic, and asked him if he would do the
same thing with another sword. ' Len 1 me your own,'
said Godfrey, and repeated the feat with his guest's
own sword.
At the time of his election, Godfrey was in the fulness
of his strength and vigour, about forty years of age.
He was tall, but not above the stature of ordinarily tall
men; his countenance was handsome and attractive;
and his beard and hair were a reddish brown. In
manners he was courteous, and in living, simple and
unostentatious. The first king of Christian Jerusalem,
the only one of all the Crusaders whose life was pure,
whose motives were disinterested, whose end and aim
was the glory of God, was also the only king who
came near the standard set up by Robert of Flanders,
as one who should be foremost in virtues as well as
in arms. The kingdom over which he ruled was a
kingdom without frontiers, save those which the sword
had made. Right and left of the path of the Crusaders
between Csesarea and Jerusalem, the Saracens had
fallen back in terror of the advancing army. The
space left free was all that Godfrey could call his own.
216 JERUSALEM.
To the north, Bohemond held Antioch, Baldwin
Edessa, and Tancred was soon to occupy Galilee.
Egypt threatened in the south, wild Bedawin in the
east, and on the north and north-west were gathering,
disorganized as yet, but soon to assume the form of
armies, the fanatic Mohammedans, maddened by their
loss. It must be remembered that during the whole
eighty years of its existence the kingdom of Jerusalem
was never for one single moment free from war and
war's alarms.
At this time the joy of the soldiers was increased by
the announcement made by a Christian inhabitant of
Jerusalem that he had buried in the city, before the
Crusaders came, a cross which contained a piece of the
True Cross. This relic was dug up after a solemn
procession, and borne in state to the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre, where it was intrusted to the care of
Arnold, who had been appointed to act in the place of
the patriarch. The appetite for relics had grown en
mangeant. Besides the holy lance, and this piece of
the True Cross, every knight, almost every common
Soldier, had been enabled to enrich himself with some-
thing precious — a bone or a piece of cloth, which had
once belonged to a saint, a nail which had helped to
crucify him, or the axe which had beheaded him. And
there can be no doubt that the possession of these
relics most materially helped to inspire them with
courage.
While the princes were still deliberating over the
choice of a king, came the news that the Egyptian Caliph
had assembled together a vast army, which was even
then marching across the desert under the command
of a renegade Armenian named Afdhal. He it was
who had taken Jerusalem from the Turks only eleven
BATTLE OF ASCALON. 217
months before the siege by the Crusaders. The army
contained not only the flower of the Egyptian troops,
but also many thousands of Mohammedan warriors
from Damascus and Baghdad, eager to wipe out the
disgrace of their defeats.
Tancred, Count Eustace of Boulogne, and Robert of
Flanders, sent forward to reconnoitre, despatched a
messenger to Jerusalem with the news that this in-
numerable army was on its way, and would be, within
a few days, at the very gates of the city. The intelli-
gence was proclaimed by heralds through the city, and
at daybreak the princes went bare-footed to the Church
of the Holy Sepulchre, where they received the Eu-
charist before setting out on their way to Ascalon.
Peter the Hermit remained in charge of the women
and children, whom he led round in solemn procession
to the sacred sites, there to pray for the triumph of
the Christian arms. Even at this solemn moment,
when the fate of the newly-born kingdom trembled on
the decision of a single battle, the chiefs could not
abstain from dissensions. At the last moment, Robert
of Normandy and Count Raymond declared that they
would not go with the army ; the former because his
vow was accomplished, the latter because he was still
sullen over the decision of the electors. But by the
entreaties of their soldiers they were persuaded to
yield. The Christian army collected in its full force at
Ramleh, attended by Arnold with the True Cross,
whence they came to the Wady Sorek.
The battle took place on the plain of Philistia, that
lovely and fertile plain which was to be reddened with
blood in a hundred fights between the Christians and
their foes.
The Christian army had been followed into the plain
218 JERUSALEM.
by thousands of the cattle which were grazing harm-
lessly over the country. The dust raised by the march
of the men and beasts hung in clouds over these flocks
and made the Egyptian army take them for countless
squadrons of cavalry. Hasty arrangements were
made. Godfrey took two thousand horse and three
thousand foot to prevent a sortie of the inhabitants of
Ascalon ; Raymond placed himself near the seashore,
between the fleet and the enemy; Tancred and the
two Roberts directed the attack on the centre and right
wing. In the first rank of the enemy were lines of
African bowmen, black Ethiopians, terrible of visage,
uttering unearthly cries, and wielding, besides their
bows, strange and unnatural weapons, such as flails
loaded with iron balls, with which they beat upon the
armour of the knights and strove to kill the horses.
The Christians charged into the thickest of these black
warriors, taking them probably for real devils, whom it
was a duty as well as a pleasure to destroy. A panic
seized the Mohammedans ; Robert Courthose, always
foremost in the melee, found himself in the presence
of Afdhal himself, and seized the grand standard. And
then the Egyptians all fled. Those who got to the sea-
shore fell into the hands of Raymond, who killed all,
except some who tried to swim, and were drowned in
their endeavours to reach their fleet ; some rushed in
the direction of Ascalon and climbed up into the trees,
where the Christians picked them off with arrows at
their leisure ; and some, laying down their arms in
despair, sat still and offered no resistance, while the
Christians came up and cut their throats. Afdhal,
who lost his sword in the rout, fled into Ascalon, and
two thousand of his men, crowding after him, were
trampled under foot at the gates. From the towers of
BATTLE OF ASCALON. 219
Ascalon he beheld the total rout and massacre of his
splendid army and the sack of his camp. ' Oh,
Mohammed,' cried the despairing renegade, ' can it be
true that the power of the Crucified One is greater
than thine ?' Afdhal embarked on board the Egyptian
fleet and returned alone. No one has told what was
the loss sustained by the Mohammedans in this battle.
They were mown down, it is said, like the wheat in the
field ; and those who escaped the sword perished in the
desert.
It is well observed by Michault, that this is the first
battle won by the Christians in which the saints took
no part. Henceforth St. George appears no more.
The enthusiasm of the soldiers was kindled by religious
zeal, but it is kept alive henceforth by success. When
success began to fail, religion could do nothing more
for them.
Raymond and Godfrey quarrelled immediately after
the battle about the right of conquest over Ascalon,
which Raymond wished to take for himself, and God-
frey claimed as his own. Raymond, in high dudgeon,
withdrew, and took off all his troops, like Achilles.
Godfrey was obliged to raise the siege of Ascalon, and
followed him. On the way Raymond attacked the
town of Arsuf, but meeting with a more determined
resistance than he anticipated, he continued his march,
maliciously informing the garrison that they had no
reason to be afraid of King Godfrey. Consequently,
when Godfrey arrived, they were not afraid of him,
and gave him so warm a reception that he was obliged
to give up the siege, and learning the trick that Raymond
had played him, flew into so mighty a passion, that he
resolved to terminate the quarrel according to Euro-
pean fashion. Tancred and the two Roberts used all
220 JERUSALEM.
their efforts to appease the two princes, and a recon-
ciliation was effected between them. What is more
important is, that the reconciliation was loyal and
sincere. Raymond gave up all his schemes of ambi-
tion in Jerusalem ; ceded all pretensions to the tower
of David, over which he had claimed rights of conquest,
and so long as he lived was a loyal supporter of the
kingdom which he had so nearly obtained for himself.
But Ascalon remained untaken, a thorn in the sides of
the conquerors for many years to follow, and a standing
reminder of the necessity of concord.
The army returned to Jerusalem singing hymns of
triumph, and entered the city with sound of clarion and
display of their victorious banner. The grand standard
and the sword of Afdhal were deposited in the Church
of the Sepulchre ; and a great service of thanksgiving
was held for their deliverance from the Egyptians.
And then the princes began to think of going home
again. They had now been four years away. Their
vow was fulfilled. Jerusalem was freed from the yoke
of the Mussulman, and they could no longer be
restrained. Three hundred knights and two thousand
foot-soldiers alone resolved to stay with Godfrey and
share his fortunes. Among them was Tancred, almost
as great a Christian hero as Godfrey himself. ' Forget
not,' those who remained cried with tears — these
knights were not ashamed to show their emotion — to
those who went away, ' forget not your brethren whom
you leave in exile ; when you get back to Europe, fill all
Christians with the desire of visiting those sacred places
which we have delivered ; exhort the warriors to come
and fight the infidels by our side.'
So went back the Crusaders, bearing each a palm-
branch from Jericho, in proof of the accomplishment of
RETURN OF THE CRUSADERS. 221
their pilgrimage. It was but a small and miserable
remnant which returned of those mighty hosts which,
four years before, had left the West. There was not a
noble family of France but had lost its sons in the
great war ; there was not a woman who had not some-
one near and dear to her lying dead upon the plains of
Syria ; not even a monk who had not to mourn a
brother in the flesh or a brother of the convent.
Great, then, must have been the rejoicing over those
who had been through all the dangers of the campaign,
and now returned bringing their sheaves with them ; —
not of gold, for they had none ; nor of rich raiment, for
they were in rags — but of glory, and honour, and of
precious relics, better in their simple eyes than any
gold, and more priceless than any jewels. With these
and their palm-branches they enriched and decorated
native churches, and the sight of them kept alive
the crusading ardour even when the first soldiers were
all dead.
Raymond of Toulouse went first to Constanti-
nople, where Alexis received him with honour,
and gave him the principality of Laodicea. Eustace
of Boulogne went back to his patrimony, leav-
ing his brother in Palestine. Robert of Flanders
went home to be drowned in the Marne. Robert of
Normandy, to eat out his heart in Cardiff Castle.
Bohemond, Tancred, and Baldwin, with Raymond,
remained in the East.
The miserably small army left with King Godfrey
would have ill-sufficed to defend the city, had it not
been for the continual relays of pilgrims who arrived
daily. These could all, at a pinch, be turned into
fighting men, and when their pilgrimage was finished
there were many who would remain and enter per-
222 JERUSALEM.
manently into the services of the king. And this seems
to have been the principal way in which the army was
recruited. It was nearly always engaged in fighting or
making ready for fighting, and without constant rein-
forcements must speedily have come to an end. A
great many Christians settled in the country by
degrees, and marrying either with native Christians or
others, produced a race of semi- Asiatics, called pullani*
who seem to have united the vices of both sides of
their descent, and to have inherited none of the
virtues.
As for the people — not the Saracens, who, it must be
remembered, were always the conquerors, but not
always the settlers — we have little information about
them. The hand of the Arab was against every man,
and every man's against him. When the pilgrims, it
will be remembered, killed the sheikh at Ramleh, the
Emir expressed his gratitude at being rid of his worst
enemy. But, as to the villagers, the people who tilled
the ground, the occupants of the soil, we know nothing
of what race they were. It was four hundred years since
the country had ceased to be Christian — it is hardly to
be expected that the villagers were anything but
Mohammedan. William of Tyre expressly calls them
infidels, or Saracens, and they were certainly hostile.
No Christian could travel across the country unless as
one of a formidable party ; and the labourers refused to
cultivate the ground, in hopes of starving the Christians
out ; even in the towns, the walls were all so ruinous,
and the defenders so few, that thieves and murderers
entered by night, and no one lay down to sleep in
* Perhaps fuldni, anybodies. So in modern Arabic the greatest
insult you can offer a man is to call him fuldn ibn fiddn, so and
so, the son of so and so — i.e., a foundling or bastard.
CONDITION OF THE COUNTRY. 223
safety. The country had been too quickly overrun, and
places which had surrendered in a panic, seeing the
paucity of the numbers opposed to them, began now to
think how the yoke was to be shaken off.
It was at Christmas, 1099, that Baldwin of Edessa,
Bohemond, and Dagobert, or Daimbert, Archbishop of
Pisa, came to Jerusalem with upwards of twenty
thousand pilgrims. These had suffered from cold and
the attacks of Arabs, but had received relief and help
from Tancred in Tiberias, and were welcomed by the
king at the head of all his people, before the gates of
the city. Arrived there, they chose a patriarch, electing
Dagobert ; and Arnold, who had never been legally
elected, was deposed. They stayed during the winter,
and gave the king their counsels as to the future con-
stitution of his realm.
Godfrey employed the first six months of the year
1 100 in regulating ecclesiastical affairs, the clergy
being, as usual, almost incredibly greedy, and in con-
cluding treaties with the governors of Ascalon, Acre,
Caesarea, Damascus, and Aleppo. He was showing
himself as skilful in administration as he had been in
war, and the Christian kingdom would doubtless have
been put upon a solid and permanent footing, but for
his sudden and premature death, which took place on
July the 18th, 1100. His end was caused by an inter-
mittent fever ; finding that there was little hope, he
caused himself to be transported from Jaffa to
Jerusalem, where he breathed his last. He was buried
in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where his epitaph
might have been read up to the year 1808, when the
church was destroyed by fire :
1 Hie jacet inclitus dux Godefridus de Bouillon, qui
totam istam terram acquisivit cultui, Christiano, cujus
li
224 JERUSALEM.
anima regnet cum Christo.' And here, too, were laid
up his sword, more trenchant than Excalibur, and the
knightly spurs with which he had won more honour
than King Arthur.
The Assises de Jerusalem, that most curious and
instructive code of feudal law, does not belong properly
to the reign of Godfrey. As it now exists it was drawn
up in the fourteenth century. But it embodies,
although it contains many additions and interpolations,
the code which Godfrey first began, and the following
kings finished. And it is based upon the idea which
ruled Godfrey and his peers. It may therefore fairly be
considered in this place.
It was highly necessary to have strict and clearly
defined laws for the new kingdom. Its subjects were
either pious and fanatic pilgrims, or unscrupulous and
ambitious adventurers. Bishops and vassals, among
whom the conquered lands were freely distributed,
were disposed to set their suzerain at defiance, and to
exalt themselves into petty kings. The pilgrims were
many of them criminals of the worst kind, ready enough,
when the old score was wiped out by so many prayers
at sacred places, to begin a new one. They were of all
countries, and spoke all languages. Their presence,
useful enough when the Egyptian army had to be
defeated, was a source of the greatest danger in time of
peace. It is true that the time of peace was never
more than a few months in duration.
The duties and rights of king, baron, and bourgeois
were therefore strictly and carefully laid down in
Godfrey's Assises. Every law was written on parch-
ment, in great letters, the first being illuminated in
gold, and all the others in vermilion ; on every sheet
was the seal of the king ; the whole was deposited in a
THE 'ASSISES OF JERUSALEM: 225
great box in the sacred church, and called the ' Letters
of the Sepulchre.'
The duty of the king was to maintain the laws ; to
defend the Church ; to care for widows and orphans ;
to watch over the safety of the people ; and to lead the
army to war. The duty of the seigneur towards his
people was exactly the same as that of the king ;
towards the king it was to serve him in war and by
counsel. The duty of a subject to his lord was to
defend and to revenge him ; to protect the honour of
his wife and daughters ; to be a hostage for him in
case of need ; to give him his horse if he wanted one,
or arms if he wanted them ; and to keep faith with
him. There were three courts of justice ; the first
presided over by the king, for the regulation of all
differences between the great vassals ; the second,
formed of the principal inhabitants — a kind of jury — to
maintain the laws among the bourgeoisie ; and the third,
reserved for the Oriental Christians, presided over by
judges born in Syria.
The king, the summit of this feudal pyramid, who
was wont to offer his crown at the Holy Sepulchre, ' as
a woman used to offer her male child at the Temple,'
had immediately under him his seneschal, who acted
as chief justice, chancellor of the exchequer, and prime
minister. The constable commanded the army in the
name of or in the absence of the king ; he presided
over the ordeal by battle, and regulated its administra-
tion. Under his orders was the marshal, who replaced
him on occasion. The chamberlain's duty was about
the person of the king.
As regards the power and duties of the barons, it
was ruled that they were allowed, if they pleased, to
give their fiefs to the Church ; that the fiefs should
T5
226 JERUSALEM.
always descend to the male heir ; that the baron or
seigneur should succeed to a fief alienated by the
failure on the part of the feudatory to perform his
duties ; that the baron should be the guardian of heirs
male and female. These, if male, were to present
themselves when the time came, saying, ' I am fully
fifteen years of age,' upon which he was to invest
them ; while maidens were to claim their fiefs at the
age of twelve, on condition that they took a husband
to protect it. Nor was any woman who remained
without a husband to hold a fief until she was at least
sixty years of age,
In the ordeal of battle, the formula of challenge was
provided, and only those were excused who had lost
limbs in battle or otherwise, women, children, and men
arrived at their sixtieth year. In a criminal case, death
followed defeat ; in a civil case, infamy.
Slaves, peasants, and captives were, like cattle,
subject only to laws of buying and selling. A slave
was reckoned worth a falcon ; two slaves were worth a
charger ; the master could do exactly as he pleased
with his own slaves. They were protected by the
natural kindness of humanity alone. In the days of
its greatest prosperity the different baronies and cities
of the kingdom of Jerusalem could be called upon to
furnish in all three thousand seven hundred and twenty-
nine knights. Bat this was after the time of Godfrey,
the David of the new kingdom.
Of course the seigneurs and barons took their titles
from the places they held ; thus we hear of the barony
of Jaffa, of Galilee, of Acre, and of Nablous ; the
seigneur of Kerak and of Arsuf. And thus in the soil
of Palestine was planted, like some strange exotic, rare
and new, the whole of the feudal system, with all its
laws, its ideas, and its limitations.
NE W ENTHUSIA SAL 227
The news of the recovery of Jerusalem, and the
return of the triumphant Crusaders, revived the flame
of crusading enthusiasm, which in the space of four
years had somewhat subsided. Those who had not
followed the rest in taking the Cross reproached them-
selves with apathy ; those who had deserted the Cross
were the object of contempt and scorn. More signs
appeared in heaven : flames of fire in the east —
probably at daybreak ; passages of insects and birds
— emblematic of the swarms of pilgrims which were
to follow. Only when the preachers urged on their
hearers to take the Cross it was no longer in the minor
key of plaint and suffering ; they ha i risen and left the
waters of Babylon ; they had taken down their harps
from the trees and tuned them afresh ; they sang, now,
a song of triumph ; and in place of suffering, sorrow,
and humiliation, they proclaimed victory, glory, and
riches. It seemed better to a European knight to be
Baron of Samaria than lord of a western state ; im-
agination magnified the splendour of Baldwin and
Tancred ; things far off assumed such colours as the
mind pleased ; and letters read from the chiefs in
Palestine spoke only of spoils won in battle, of splendid
victories, and of conquered lands. Again the cry was
raised of Dieu le veut, and again the pilgrims, but this
time in a very different spirit, poured eastwards in
countless thousands.
The way was led by Hugh, Count of Vermandois,
and the unfortunate Stephen of Blois, whose lives had
been a mere burden to them since their desertion of
the Cross ; the latter, who had little inclination for
fighting of any kind, and still less for more hardships in
the thirsty East, followed at the instigation of his wife
Adela, daughter of William the Conqueror. Neither
15—2
228 JERUSALEM.
of them ever returned. William of Poitiers, like
Stephen of Blois, a poet and scholar, mortgaged his
estates to William Rufus, the scoffer, who, of course,
was still lamentably insensible to the voice of the
preacher — it must have been just before his death;
Humbert of Savoy, William of Nevers, Harpin of
Bourges, and Odo, Duke of Burgundy, followed his
example. In Italy the Bishop of Milan, armed with a
bone of St. Ambrose, led an army of one hundred
thousand pilgrims, while an immense number of Ger-
mans followed the Marshal Conrad and Wolf of
Bavaria. Most of the knights professed religious
zeal ; but hoped, their geographical knowledge being
small, to win kingdoms and duchies like those of
Baldwin and Tancred. Humbert of Savoy, more
honest than the others, openly ordered prayers to be
put up that he might obtain a happy principality. It
does not appear from history that his petition was
granted.
The new army was by no means so well-conducted
as the old. Insolent in their confidence, and ill-dis-
ciplined, they plundered and pillaged wherever they
came. They menaced Alexis Comnenus, and threatened
to take and destroy the city. Alexis, it is said, but it is
difficult to believe this, actually turned his wild beasts
upon the mob, and his favourite lion got killed in the
encounter. After prayers and presents, the Emperor
persuaded his unruly guests to depart and go across
the straits. Non defensoribus istis might have been the
constant ejaculation of the much-abused and long-
suffering monarch.
Then they were joined by Conrad with his Germans,
and Hugh with his French. The numbers are stated
at two hundred and sixty thousand, among whom were
HUGH OF VERMANDOIS. 229
a vast number of priests, monks, women, and children.
Raymond of Toulouse, who was in Constantinople,
undertook reluctantly to guide the army across Asia
Minor, and brought with him a few of his Provencaux
and a body of five hundred Turcopoles (these were
light infantry, so called because they were the children
of Christian women by Turkish fathers), the contingent
of the Greek Emperor.
But the army was too confident to keep to the old
path. They would go eastward and attack the Turks
in their strongest place, even in Khorassan itself.
Raymond let them have their own way, doubtless with
misgiving and anxiety, and went with them. The town
of Ancyra, in Paphlagonia, was attacked and taken by
assault. All the people were put to death without
exception. They went on farther, exultant and jubilant.
Presently they found themselves surrounded by the
enemy, who appeared suddenly, attacked them in
clouds, and from all quarters. They were in a desert
where there was little water, what there was being so
rigorously watched over by the Turks that few escaped
who went to seek it. They were marching over dry
brushwood ; the Turks set fire to it, and many perished
in the flames or the smoke. There was but one
thing to do, to fight the enemy. They did so, and
though the victory seemed theirs, they had small cause
to triumph, for division after division of their army had
been forced to fly before the Turks. Still this might
have been repaired. But in the night Count Raymond
left them, and fled with his soldiers in the direction of
Sinope. The news of this defection quickly spread.
Bishops, princes, and knights, seized with a sudden
panic, left baggage, tents and all, and fled away in hot
haste. In the morning the Turks prepared again for
230 JERUSALEM.
battle. There was no enemy. In the camp was
nothing but a shrieking, despairing multitude of monks,
and women, and children. The Turks killed re-
morselessly, sparing none but those women who were
young and beautiful. In their terror and misery the
poor creatures put on hastily their finest dresses, in
hopes by their beauty to win life at least, if life shame-
ful, and hopeless, and miserable.
'Alas!' says Albert of Aix, 'alas! what grief for
these women so tender and so noble, led into captivity
by savages so impious and so horrible ! For these men
had their heads shaven in front, at the sides, and at the
nape, the little hair left fell behind in disorder, and in
few plaits, upon their necks ; their beards were thick
and unkempt, and everything, with their garments, gave
them the appearance of infernal and unclean spirits.
There were no bounds to the cries and lamentations of
these delicate women ; the camp re-echoed with their
groans ; one had seen her husband perish, one had been
left behind by hers. Some were beheaded after serving
to gratify the lust of the Turks ; some whose beauty had
struck their eyes were reserved for a wretched captivity.
After having taken so many women in the tents of the
Christians, the Turks set off in pursuit of the foot-
soldiers, the knights, the priests, and the monks ; they
struck them with the sword as a reaper cuts the wheat
with his sickle ; they respected neither age nor rank,
they spared none but those whom they destined to be
soldiers. The ground was covered with immense
riches abandoned by the fugitives. Here and there
were seen splendid dresses of various colours ; horses
and mules lay about the plain ; blood inundated the
roads, and the number of dead amounted to more than
a hundred and sixty thousand.'
THE LAST WAVES. 231
As for the arm of St. Ambrose, that was lost too, and
it doubtless lies still upon the plain beyond Ancyra,
waiting to work more miracles. It is exasperating to
find all the chroniclers, with the exception of Albert of
Aix, passing over with hardly a word of sympathy the
miserable fate of the helpless women, and pouring out
their regrets over their trumpery relic.
There was another army still, headed by the Duke of
Nevers. They followed in the footsteps of their pre-
decessors as far as Ancyra, where they turned south-
wards. Their fate was the same as that of the others :
all were killed. The leader, who had fled to Germani-
copolis, took some Greek soldiers as guides. These
stripped him, and left him alone in the forest. He
wandered about for some days, and at last found his
way to Antioch, as poor and naked as any beggar in his
own town.
The third and last army, headed by the Count Hugh of
Vermandois, met with a similar end. Thirst, heat, and
hunger destroyed their strength, for the Turks had
filled the wells, destroyed the crops, and let the water
out of the cisterns. On the river Halys they met their
end; William of Poitiers, like the Duke of Nevers,
arrived naked at Antioch. The luckless Count of
Vermandois got as far as Tarsus, where he died of his
wounds, and poor Ida of Austria, who came, as she
thought, under the protection of the pilgrims, with
all her noble ladies, was never heard of any more.
Of these three great hosts, only ten thousand
managed to get to Antioch. Every one of the ladies
and women who were with them perished ; all the
children, all the monks and priests. And of the leaders,
i none went back to Europe except the Count of Blandrat,
who with the Bishop of Milan had headed the Lorn-
232 JERUSALEM.
bards, the Duke of Nevers, and William of Poitiers,
the troubadour.
These were the last waves of the first great storm.
With the last of these three great armies died away the
crusading spirit proper — that which Peter the Hermit
had aroused. There could be no more any such
universal enthusiasm. Once and only once again would
all Europe thrill with rage and indignation. It had
burned to wrest the city from the infidels ; it was to
burn once more, but this time with a feebler flame,
and ineffectually, to wrest it a second time, when the
frail and turbulent kingdom of Jerusalem should be at
an end.
We have dealt, perhaps, at too great length on the
great Crusade which really ended with the death of
Godfrey. But the centre of its aims was Jerusalem.
The Christian kingdom, one of the most interesting
episodes in the history of the city, cannot be understood
without knowing some of the events which brought it
about.
THE KINGS OF JERUSALEM.
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CHAPTER VIII.
KING BALDWIN I. A.D. IIOO — IIl8.
'Tell me,' said Don Quixote, 'have you ever seen a more valorous
knight than I upon the whole face of the known earth ?'
No sooner was the breath out of Godfrey's body, than,
according to usual custom, the Christians began to
quarrel as to who should succeed him. Count Gamier
de Gray, a cousin of Godfrey's, took possession promptly
of the Tower of David and other fortified places, and
refused to give them up to the patriarch, Dagobert, who
claimed them as having been ceded to him by the late
king. Unfortunately, Count Gamier died suddenly at
this juncture, and his death was of course interpreted
by the churchmen as a punishment for his contumacy.
Dagobert wrote immediately — the letter is preserved —
to Bohemond, urging him to assert his claims. Hardly
was the epistle sent off, when the news came that
Bohemond was a prisoner. There was, therefore,
nothing to prevent Baldwin from stepping quietly into
the throne.
Baldwin, the brother of Godfrey, had been originally
destined for the Church, and received a liberal educa-
tion. When he abandoned the robe for the sword is
not certain, nor, indeed, do we know anything at all
about him until we see him in the Crusade following
his brother. He was a man of grave and majestic
KING BALDWIN I. 235
bearing. Taller by a head than other men, he was
also of great strength, extremely active, and well
skilled in all the arts of chivalry. His beard and hair
were black, his nose aquiline, and the upper lip slightly
projecting. He was fond of personal splendour and
display. When he rode out in the town of Edessa a
golden buckler, with the device of an eagle, was borne
before him, and two horsemen rode in front blowing
trumpets. Following the Oriental custom, he had
allowed his beard to grow, and took his meals seated on
carpets. He was not, like his brother, personally pious,
nor was he by any means priest-ridden. His early
education had been sufficient to deprive him of any
great respect Tor the cloth, and the facility with which
he fell into Oriental customs proves that his Christianity
sat lightly enough upon him. As yet, however, there
were no declared infidels in the East. His morals
were dissolute, but he knew how to prevent scandals
arising, and none but those who were immediately
about him knew what was the private life of their grave
and solemn king. At the same time he does not
appear to have been a hypocrite, or to have claimed
any merit at all for piety. The figure of Godfrey is
clouded with legends and miraculous stories. We
hardly seem to see, through the mist of years, the
features of the short-lived David of the new kingdom.
But that of Baldwin, the new Solomon of Jerusalem,
stands out clear and distinct. This king, calm, cold of
speech, self-reliant, like Saul, a head taller than anybody
dse, who will not be seen abroad without a mantle
upon his shoulders, who lets his beard grow, and looks
jut upon the world with those keen bright eyes of his,
ind that strong projecting upper lip, is indeed a man,
ind not a shadow of history. He is a clerk, and is not
236 JERUSALEM.
to be terrified, knowing too much of the Church, into
giving up his own to the Church, as Godfrey did. His,
too, is the sharp, clear-cut, aquiline nose of the general,
as well as the strong arm of a soldier, and the Turks
will not probably greatly prevail against him. And
with Godfrey, as we have said before, vanish for ever
those shadowy figures of saints and dead bishops who
were wont to fight with the army. King Baldwin
believed in no saints' help, either in battle or in the
world, and did not look for any. Jerusalem, hence-
forth, has to get along without many miracles. For
the appearance of saints and other ghostly auxiliaries is
like the appearance of fairies — they come not, when
men believe in them no more :
' Their lives
Are based upon the fickle faith of men :
Not measured out against fate's mortal knives
Like human gossamers ; they perish when
They fade, and are forgot in worldly ken.'
Baldwin did not hesitate one moment to exchange :
his rich and luxurious principality of Edessa for the?
greater dignity, with all its thorns and cares, of the;
crown of Jerusalem. He made over his power to his;
cousin Baldwin du Bourg, and himself, with a little
army of four hundred knights and one thousand foot,
started on his perilous journey, through a country
swarming with enemies. He got on very smoothly,
despite the paucity of his numbers, until he reached
Beyrout. Five miles from that town was a narrow
pass, with the sea on one side and rocks on the other,
toojdifncult to force if it were held by even a hundred
men. The trouble and anxiety into which the army
was thrown are well told by Foulcher, the king's
chaplain, who was with him. The worthy chaplain
was horribly frightened. ' I would much rather,' he
FOULCHER DE CHARTRES. 237
tells us, ' have been at Chartres or Orleans. . . .
Nowhere was there a place where he could find refuge,
no way was open to us to escape death, no passage
was left by which we could flee, no hope of safety
remained if we stayed where we were. Solomon
himself would not have known which way to turn, and
even Samson would have been conquered. But God,
. . . seeing the peril into which we had fallen for His
service, and through love of Him' — rather a daring
assertion, considering that Baldwin had deserted the
Crusade, and gone off filibustering entirely on his own
account, and was now going to receive a crown for
which he certainly had not fought — ' was touched with
pity, and granted in His mercy such an audacity of
courage that our men put to flight those who were
pursuing them .... Some threw themselves from the
top of scarped rocks, others rushed to places which
seemed to present a little chance of safety, others were
caught and perished by the edge of the sword. You
ought to have seen their ships flying through the
waves, as if we could seize them with our hands ; and
themselves in their fright scaling the mountains and
the rocks.' And no doubt it did the excellent chaplain
good to see them running away, just after defeat and
I death appeared so imminent.
In the morning Baldwin rode up to examine the
pass, and found the enemy gone. So the little army
passed in safety, and went on their way, laden with the
spoils of the Turks.
Arrived at Jerusalem, all the people, headed by the
clergy, came out to meet the king, singing hymns and
bearing tapers. Only the patriarch, Dagobert, chose
to be absent and retired to Mount Zion, pretending to
be in fear for his personal safety.
238 JERUSALEM.
Baldwin did not immediately concern himself about
the patriarch. Satisfied with the homage of the barons
and clergy, and conscious that his crown could only be.
preserved by establishing respect for his prowess among
his own men, and fear among the Mohammedans, he
set out with a force of a hundred and fifty knights, and
five hundred foot, and appeared before the walls of
Ascalon. Here, however, he experienced a check, the
garrison having been reinforced. Raising the siege
hastily, he ravaged the country round the town, and
then directed his march in a south-east direction,
taking possession of the cattle everywhere and destroy-
ing the crops. At one place he found a large number
of Arabs, robbers, we are told, who had taken refuge in
caverns. Baldwin kindled fires at the mouth of the
cave, hoping to drive them out by the smoke. Only
two came. The king spoke kindly to them, kept one,
dressed up the other in a magnificent mantle and sent
him back. As soon as he was gone Baldwin killed the
one who was left. Presently the messenger returned
with ten more. Baldwin sent back one, as before, and
killed the remaining ten. This one returned with
thirty ; one was sent back and the rest beheaded.
The next time two hundred and thirty came out, and
Baldwin beheaded them all. Then more fire was
made, and the miserable wives and children were
forced to come out. Some ransomed their lives, the
rest were beheaded. Baldwin, after this wholesale
slaughter, thence travelled down to the Dead Sea, to
the great delight of his chaplain, who describes the
places he saw, everywhere inspiring terror of his name,
and driving the cattle before him. He returned to
Jerusalem laden with booty, three days before Christ-
mas, having succeeded in gaining the confidence of his
DAGOBERT. 239
iew subjects. Dagobert, the patriarch, deemed it
wisest to cease his opposition to the king, and the
:oronation of Baldwin took place at Bethlehem,
fancred at first refused to recognise his old enemy as
;ing, but giving way, they were reconciled ; moreover,
le was no longer so much in Baldwin's way, because in
lis uncle Bohemond's captivity he was governing his
)rincipality of Antioch. The reconciliation, like that
>etween Raymond and Godfrey, was sincere and loyal.
3y several small expeditions, such as that directed to
he south, Baldwin established a terror for his name
vhich served him in good stead. For the kingdom was
n an unstable and dangerous condition ; there were
fery few men with whom to form an army, and had it
lot been for the pilgrims who flocked to the city in
housands, it might have been lost many times over.
The Easter miracle of the Holy Fire served this year
;o revive the enthusiasm which was beginning to flag.
ro the astonishment and horror of the people it did
lot come as usual. For three days they waited,
rears, prayers, and lamentations were uttered. Then
1 solemn procession was enjoined, and king, clergy,
ind people marched barefooted round the church,
weeping and praying. Suddenly a bright light filled
the church. The flame had lit one of the lamps, it
Hew from lamp to lamp, and when in the evening
Baldwin sat at dinner in the ' Temple of Solomon,'
i.e., the Jami el Aksa, two lamps were miraculously
kindled there also. We can have very little doubt,
nasmuch as this impudent imposture is carried on to
:he present day, avowedly as an imposture, that Bald-
win and the clergy devised the scheme as a means to
irouse the flagging zeal of the pilgrims, and especially
)f certain Genoese and Pisans, who had a large
4 o JERUSALEM.
ileet with them, the assistance of which he greatly
desired.
To bring about this fraud, a reconciliation had been
effected between Baldwin and the unworthy patriarch,
Dagobert. For it was not long after the return of
Baldwin from his first expedition when he discovered
how Dagobert had endeavoured, by any means in his
power, to prevent his accession. Doubtless he was
informed by Arnold,* the late chaplain to the Duke
Robert of Normandy. Arnold, a priest of great
ambition, was the heir to Bishop Odo of Bayeux,
William the Conqueror's half-brother, who had left
him great wealth. The object dearest to his heart was
the acquisition of the post of patriarch. After the
siege he performed the duties temporarily, as a sort of
vicar, but had been displaced on Dagobert's appoint-
ment. His morals, we are told by William of Tyre,
were so notoriously bad as to be the theme of rough
verses among the soldiers. But William of Tyre,
whose favourite name for him is ' that firstborn of
Satan,' writes from the side of the Church as repre-
sented by Dagobert. The morals of the patriarch •
himself, too, appear to have been at least doubtful, !
even before his accession to his new dignity, as he is
roundly accused of appropriating to his own purposes
moneys and presents destined for the pope. But
churchmen, when they talk of morality, always mean
chastity and nothing else. As soon as Baldwin was
informed of Dagobert's opposition, he wrote a letter to
Rome, accusing the patriarch not only of opposing the
election of the lawful and hereditary king, but also of
trying to procure his death on the road, and of exciting
discord among the chiefs of the Crusade. The pope
* His name is also written Arnoulf and Arnoul.
\
DAGOBERT. 241
sent his own brother, Cardinal Maurice, to Jerusalem
as his legate, with authority to suspend the patriarch
until he should be able to purge himself of the charges
brought against him. Maurice called a court com-
posed of bishops and abbots directly he arrived in the
city, and summoned the king to prove, and the patri-
arch to disprove, his accusations. Baldwin had, mean-
while, found another charge, no doubt invented by
Arnold, as it bears all the marks of private malice, to
bring against Dagobert. He had, it was said, purloined
and concealed a piece of the wood of the Cross, in
addition to his other offences ; the king himself must
have known well enough that in the eyes of the
Church this offence would be far more serious than
any of the others. To procure the death of a man
would be venial indeed compared with the abstraction
of a relic. Dagobert had very little, it would appear,
to say, and an adjournment was granted, to give him
time to call witnesses in his own defence.
Came, meantime, the season of Easter, and that
day, Good Friday, when the Holy Oil was wont to be
consecrated for the use of the sick. In place of the
patriarch, whom the king assumed to be deposed, but
who was really only suspended, the cardinal undertook
this duty, and was already on the Mount of Olives, the
place assigned to this ceremony, when the patriarch,
humiliated beyond all expression by this public degra-
dation from his functions, went to the king and im-
plored him, with tears in his eyes, to reinstate him for
that day only. Baldwin refused. Dagobert urged
him again not to inflict this punishment upon him in
the face of so many pilgrims. But the king remained
obdurate. Then the patriarch changed his line.
Instead of entreating, he bribed. He offered Baldwin
16
242 JERUSALEM.
three hundred byzantines. The royal treasury was
empty, the knights were clamouring for their pay, and
the patriarch obtained his request.
After this some sort of peace was made up between
the pope's legate, Cardinal Maurice, and the patriarch;
a peace founded, it would seem, on mutual interest,
for we are told that they became so friendly that they
were accustomed to spend the day and night together
in retired places, secretly feasting, and drinking the
wine of Gaza, no doubt in happy ignorance that the eye
of Arnold — that first-born of Satan — was upon them,
and that he was biding his time.
In the spring, at the same time as the memorable
miracle of the Holy Fire, and the arrival of the
Genoese and Pisan fleet, came emissaries from the
Mohammedan towns of Ascalon, Caesarea, Ptolemais,
and Tyre, with presents and money, asking for permis-
sion to cultivate their lands in peace. Baldwin took
the money and promised security till Pentecost. He also
made a little more money by accepting the ransom of
certain prisoners whom he had taken at Beyrout.
With this capital of ready money he was able to pay
his knights, at least in part, and to insure their service
for the next campaign. He offered the Genoese, on
condition of their granting him their assistance with
the fleet, to give up to them a third of the booty in
every town which he might take with their assistance,
and to name one of the principal streets in it the
Street of the Genoese. They agreed, and Baldwin
made his preparations for an attack on Caesarea. The
patriarch, bearing the wood of the true Cross — all,
that is, that he had not stolen — went with the army.
When they arrived before the town, the people of
Caesarea, rich merchants, who desired nothing but to
TAKING OF CsESAREA. 243
be left alone, and were a peaceful folk, sent deputies,
who asked the patriarch the following question : 'You,
who are the doctors of the Christian law, why do you
order your men to kill and plunder us, who are made in
the image of your God ?' The patriarch evaded the
point. ' We do not desire,' said he softly, ' to plunder
you. This city does not belong to you, but to St.
Peter. We have no wish to kill you, but the Divine
vengeance pursues those who are armed against the
law of God.' It will be observed that the town was
claimed, not for the Christian kingdom, but for the
Church. ' It belonged to St. Peter.' Dagobert's idea
seemed to have been that the king was to be like
Godfrey, only the Defender of the Sepulchre. Bald-
win, however, thought quite differently. The city was
taken with the usual form, and with the usual butchery.
As some miserable Saracens had been seen to swallow
coins, the Christians cut their prisoners in two to find
the money, and burned their bodies to ashes, looking
for the gold when the fire was out. And with a view
to restoring his own to St. Peter, they pillaged the
whole city and divided the spoils, when they had killed
all the inhabitants.* As for the Genoese, they found a
relic in their booty, precious indeed. It was no other
than the Cup of the Holy Grail, which they bore away
in triumph. How its authenticity was established does
not appear, but it has been kept, ever since, with great
reverence, and may still be seen by the faithful. The
Christians then selected an archbishop. There was a
poor and ignorant priest called Baldwin. He had
tattooed his forehead with the sign of the cross, and
made money by pretending that it was a miraculous sign.
* They kept the women, and made them grind corn all day with
".he handmills.
16 — 2
244 JERUSALEM.
Everybody knew that he was an impostor, but pro-
bably because the pilgrims insisted on believing in his
sanctity, and in order to conciliate this important
element of the population, he was chosen to be the
archbishop.
The Egyptian Caliph, whose plan of operation seems
to have been to send constant reinforcements to Ascalon,
and use that strong place as a centre from which to
harass the Christians, gave orders to try, with the
coming of spring, another incursion. Baldwin met
the advanced guard of the Egyptian troops near
Ramleh. He had got together three hundred knights
and nine hundred foot. The Saracens were ten times
as numerous. The king, tying a white banner to his
lance, led the way, and performed prodigies of valour.
And, as usual, the Mohammedans were seized with a
panic and fled.
It was at this time that the wretched remains of
the new armies of pilgrims arrived in Palestine. Their
numbers were not large, as we have seen, but their
arrival was the most opportune thing that could have
happened for Baldwin. For, having seen the sacred
places, they were preparing for their return home when
the hews arrived of the coming into Palestine of
another vast army of Egyptians. They were, as usual,
in the neighbourhood of Ascalon. Baldwin hastened
to meet them with a handful of knights, among
whom was the unfortunate Count of Blois and the
Duke of Burgundy. They were all cut to pieces
Baldwin himself escaping with the greatest difficulty
and almost a' one, to Ramleh. In the morning he,
found himself, with his little band, in a place withoul
any means of defence, and surrounded by an enormou.'
army, through which it was hopeless to think of cuttin
ESCAPE OF THE KING. 245
a way. And then occurred one of the most singular
instances of gratitude on record. A stranger, a noble
Mohammedan, was introduced to the king. ' I am,' he
said, ' one to whom you have shown yourself generous.
You took my wife prisoner. On the way she was
seized with the pains of labour. You made a tent for
her on the wayside, laid her in it, and left her pro-
visions, water, and female slaves to help her. So her
life was saved. Now, I know the roads which are
not guarded. Come with me, but come alone, and
I will take you safely through the midst of our army.'
Baldwin, who had really been guilty of this humanity
to a poor Mohammedan woman, was constrained to
accept the generous offer. He went away alone with
his benefactor. The emir kept his word and escorted
him to a place of safety, where he left him. All his
companions at Ramleh were put to death before he had
time to help them.
Meantime, the greatest consternation reigned in
Jerusalem. The king was reported to be a captive ;
the great bell tolled ; soldiers and knights gathered
together ; the gates were shut ; and the priests and
women betook themselves to prayer. The king, how-
ever, at Jaffa, collecting all the troops he could raise,
prohibited any pilgrim from leaving the country, and
went forth once more with all his force. Their war-
cry was, ' Christ conquers, and Christ reigns, Christ
commands,' in place of the old ' Dieu le veut,' and
' Dieu aide.' After a battle, which lasted a whole day
— the spirit of the Egyptians had been raised by their
temporary success — victory declared for the Christians,
and the Mohammedans fled with a loss of four
thousand men : the smallness of their loss shows that
the victory was not one of the fights like that of
246 JERUSALEM.
Ascalon, where a panic made the Mohammedans
absolutely helpless.
The story of this invasion is much confused, and told
by the chroniclers in different ways, only one of them
relating the gratitude of the Saracen. But we may
fairly assume that another of the periodical invasions
took place, which was repelled, though with difficulty,
by the valour of Baldwin. The arms of the Christians
were not, however, always crowned with success, and
an ill-omened defeat took place at Harran, where
Baldwin du Bourg and Jocelyn were taken prisoners.
Bohemond, who had been released, was there with
Tancred, and both escaped with great difficulty. It
was evident that the Christian strength lay chiefly in
the terror inspired by a long series of victories. Once
defeated, the prestige of the conquerors was gone.
And when the Mohammedans managed to recover their
old self-confidence, the kingdom of Jerusalem was as
good as lost, and its destruction was only a matter of
time.
Baldwin's chief difficulty was not in raising armies,
for there were always plenty of men to be got among
the pilgrims, but in paying an army when he had raised
it. The pilgrims brought daily large sums in offerings
to the Church of the Sepulchre, to which the patriarch
acted officially as treasurer. To him the king went in
his distress, and demanded that some of the money
should be put into his hands to pay the soldiers with.
Dagobert asked for a day's delay, and then brought the
king two hundred marks, with a polite expression of
regret that he could do no more. Arnold, who was
now Chancellor of the Holy Sepulchre, laughed aloud
at the meagreness of this offering, and informed the
king that immense treasures had been bestowed upon
GLUTTONY OF DAGOBERT. 247
the church, which were all concealed, if not appropriated,
by the patriarch. Baldwin thereupon urged again on
the patriarch the necessity of his contributing towards
the support of the army. Dagobert, relying on his
friendship with the legate, disdained to take any notice
of the king's representation, and continued, with
Cardinal Maurice, to use for his own festivals and
private luxuries the riches of the Church. One day,
when Baldwin was at his wits' end for want of money,
someone, probably Arnold, brought him a report of the
dissolute and selfish life led by Dagobert. ' Even at
this moment,' he said, ' the patriarch is feasting and
drinking.' The king took some of his officers with
him, and forcing his way into the patriarch's private
apartments, found him and Maurice at a table spread
with all the luxuries of the East. Baldwin flew into a
royal rage, and swore a royal oath. ' By heavens !' he
cried, ' you feast while we fast ; you spend on your
gluttony the offerings of the faithful, and take no notice
of our distress. As there is a living God, you shall
not touch another single offering, you shall not fill your
bellies with dainties even once more, unless you pay my
knights. By what right do you take the gifts made to
the Sepulchre by the pilgrims, and change them into
delicacies, while we, who have purchased the city with
our blood, who bear incessantly so many fatigues and
combats, are deprived of the fruits of their generosity ?
Drink with us of the cup that we drink now, and
shall continue to drink in these times of bitterness, or
prepare yourself to receive no more the goods which
belong to the church.' Upon which the patriarch, little
used to have things set forth in this plain and unmis-
takable manner, allowed himself to fall into wrath, and
made use of the effective but well-worn text, that those
248 JERUSALEM.
who serve the altar must live by the altar. But he
hardly, as yet, knew his man. The king, actually not
afraid of a priest, swore again, in the most solemn
manner, and in spite of the entreaties of the legate,
Cardinal Maurice, that if the patriarch refused to help
him he would help himself. There was, indeed, little
doubt possible but that he would keep his word.
Dagobert, therefore, gave way, and promised to
maintain thirty knights. But he soon got into arrears,
and, finally, after repeated quarrels with the king, and
after being publicly accused of peculation — very possibly
he stole right and left for the glory of the Church — he
retired to Antioch, hoping that Bohemond would take
up his quarrel. In this he was disappointed, for
Bohemond had neither the power nor the inclination.
Dagobert never returned to the city. Affecting to con-
sider him deposed, the king put in his place a humble
and pious monk of great ignorance, named Ebremer.
He, however, was speedily displaced, and on the deposi-
tion of Dagobert, Arnold was at last promoted to the
see. He died a year or two afterwards, and in his
death William of Tyre sees a plainly-marked indica-
tion of the Divine displeasure. By others it may be
read differently.
The career of Bohemond was drawing to an end.
Shut up in Antioch, and attacked both by Greeks and
Saracens, he could hardly defend himself. But his
spirit was as strong as ever. Causing a rumour to be
spread that he was dead, he was carried in a coffin on
board a ship, and escaped thus through the Greek fleet.
Arrived in Italy, he went to the pope, and with all his
rough and strong eloquence he pleaded his cause, which
he represented as that of the Christians against the
Greek emperor, the most flagrant of criminals. He
DEA TH OF RA YMOND. 249
went thence to France, with the pope's express
authority, to raise men for another Crusade, this time
against Alexis. King Philip gave him his daughter,
Constance, in marriage ; the princes and knights en-
rolled themselves in his army ; he crossed over to Spain,
and thence to Italy, finding everywhere the same
success, and awakening the same enthusiasm. His
army assembled. He led them first to the city of
Durazzo, which he attacked, but without success; the
city held out ; his troops, who discovered that they had
enlisted under his banner solely to advance his personal
interest and to gratify his blind and unreasoning hatred
against the Emperor of Constantinople, deserted him ;
and the proud Norman had to return to Tarento no
richer, except by Antioch, for all his conquests and
ambitions. A treaty was concluded with the emperor,
which gave him this city. He was preparing to break
the conditions of the agreement when a fever seized
him, and he died, greatly to the relief of Alexis.
About the same time died gallant old Raymond of
Toulouse, still fighting at Tripoli. He was besieging
the town with only four hundred men at his back, and
with that heroic self-confidence which never deserted
the first Crusaders, when either some smoke from
Greek fire affected him, or he fell from the roof of a
house, and so came to an end.
Tancred, the bravest, if not the best, of all, was to
follow within a very few years, and Baldwin found
himself for the last six years of his reign without a
single one of the old princes, except his cousin, Bald-
win du Bourg, to quarrel with, to help, or to look to
for help. And, still more to complicate matters, the ex-
pedition which the ambition of Bohemond had directed
against the Greek Empire for his own purposes had
250 JERUSALEM.
alienated the sympathies, such as they were, and the
assistance of the Greek Empire, and deprived the
Christian Kingdom of every hope from that quarter.
Then Tancred and Baldwin du Bourg, as soon as the
latter got his release from captivity, began to quarrel,
and, turn by turn, called in the assistance of the
Saracens. They were persuaded to desist by the ex-
hortations of the king, who told Tancred plainly that
unless he ceased to make war against Christians, all
the Christians in the East would make common cause
against him. The only resources left to the king were
those derived from the constant influx of pilgrims, and
therefore of fighting men, and the assistance he derived
from the annual visit of the Genoese and Pisan fleets ;
these came, actuated solely by the desire for merchan-
dise and plunder. In return for concessions and the
chance of booty, they fought the Egyptian fleets, and
co-operated with Baldwin in his operations against sea-
side places. Thus, in 1104, after an unsuccessful
attempt upon the town, Baldwin took advantage of the
presence of sixty-six Genoese galleys to lay siege to
Acre. He invited them to assist him in his enterprise,
first, for the love of Christ, and secondly, in the hope
of reaping a golden harvest out of victory. The
Genoese consented, on the condition of receiving a
third of the revenue, and perpetual rights which would
be obtained by the capture of the place, and of a street
being entirely given up to themselves, where they
might exercise their own laws and justice. These
conditions, exorbitant as they were, were accepted,
and siege was laid in due form, Baldwin investing the
place by land and the Genoese by sea. The time was
almost gone by for unconditional surrender and capture
by assault, and the Christians fought with machines
SIEGE OF TRIPOLI. 251
and rams for twenty days before the enemy capitulated.
And it was then only on honourable terms. The
inhabitants were to take out their wives, families, and
whatever they could carry. Those who preferred to
remain behind were to be allowed to continue in the
peaceful occupation of their homes, on condition of
paying an annual tribute to the king. It will be seen
that a short space of five years had already materially
altered the relative positions of Christians and Moham-
medans. The conditions were ill kept, for a large
number of the Saracens were massacred by the unruly
sailors, and Baldwin seems to have been powerless to
interfere. This was, however, a most important
position, and threw open a convenient harbour for the
Genoese.
Year after year an army came from Egypt and at-
tempted an invasion of Palestine, using Ascalon as the
basis of operations and the depot of supplies. But every
year the attack grew more feeble and the rout of the
Egyptians more easy.
The next important place attacked by the help of the
Genoese was Tripoli. After the death of Count Ray-
mond, his affairs in the East were conducted by his
nephew, William of Cerdagne, until Bertram, Ray-
mond's son, should arrive. He came in nog, and
immediately began to quarrel with his cousin, who
called in the aid of Tancred. Baldwin, however, in-
terfered and substituted a settlement of all the disputed
points between them. By his arrangement William
kept all the places he had himself conquered, and
Bertram had the rest. Moreover, if either died without
heirs, Bertram was to have all. A short time after,
William was accidentally killed by an arrow in trying to
settle a quarrel among his men-at-arms, and tranquillity
252 JERUSALEM.
among the princes was assured. Operations, mean-
time, had been going on against the little town of
Biblios, which succumbed, after a show of resistance,
on the same terms as those obtained by the people of
Acre. The strong places which still held out were
Tripoli, Tyre, Sidon, Beyrout, and Ascalon. Baldwin's
plan was to take them in detail, and always by the aid
of the Genoese fleet. He joined his forces to those of
Bertram, and the siege of Tripoli was vigorously taken
in hand.
It illustrates the untrustworthy character of the
materials from which a history of this kingdom has to
be drawn that Albert of Aix, one of the most careful of
the chroniclers, absolutely passes over the capture of
this important place in silence. The inhabitants de-
fended themselves as well as they were able, but seeing
no hope of assistance, they capitulated on conditions
of safety. These were granted, but pending the nego-
tiations, the savage Genoese sailors, getting over the
wall by means of ladders and ropes, began to slaughter
the people. ' Every Saracen,' says Foulcher de
Chartres, who has a touch of humour, ' who fell into
their hands, experienced no worse misfortune than to
lose his head ; and although this was done without
the knowledge of the chiefs, the heads thus lost could
not be afterwards put on again.' All the chronicles
but one agree in preserving silence over a barbarism
almost worse than the breaking of a treaty. It was
this : the Christians found in Tripoli a splendid library.
It had been collected in the course of many peaceful
years by the family of Ibn-Ammar, who were the
hereditary princes, under the Caliph of Cairo, of the
place. It consisted of a hundred thousand volumes,
and a wretched priest blundering into the place, and
SIEGE OF TRIPOLI. 253
finding this enormous mass of books written in
1 execrable,' because unknown characters, called in the
assistance of soldiers as ignorant as himself, and
destroyed them all. The Tripolitans had, many years
before, placed themselves under the protection of the
Egyptian Caliph. They looked now for his help. In
the midst of the siege a ship managed to put in with a
message from the sovereign. He promised them no
assistance, and encouraged them to no resistance.
Only he recollected that there was in the city a
beautiful female slave whom he desired to be sent to
him, and asked for some wood of the apricot-tree to
make him lutes. After this the people capitulated.
The next place to fall was Beyrout, and through the
same assistance. But in this case the place was carried
by assault, and a terrible carnage ensued, stayed only
by the order of the king. And after the victory and
the conquest of Sarepta, the Genoese retired, carrying
with them very many of Baldwin's best auxiliaries, and
left him with his usual small force, barely enough for
purposes of defence. But fortune favoured him again.
The fame of the Crusades had taken a long time to
travel northwards, but in time it had reached to
Norway and kindled the enthusiasm even of the Scan-
dinavians. Hardly had the Genoese left the shores of
Palestine, when Sigurd, son or brother of King Magnus
of Norway, arrived at Jaffa with ten thousand Nor-
wegians, among whom were a large number of English.
He was a young man, says Foulcher, of singular
beauty, and was welcomed by Baldwin with all the
charm of manner which made him the friend of all
whom he desired to please. The sturdy Norsemen,
who desired nothing so much as to fight with the
Saracens, met the king's wishes half-way. They were
254 JERUSALEM.
ready to go wherever he pleased, provided it led to
fighting, and without any other pay than their pro-
visions. These were better allies than the greedy
Genoese, and Baldwin joyfully led them to Sidon,
where for a little while they had fighting enough. The
Sidonians, seeing no hope of escape, endeavoured, says
William of Tyre, to compass their own deliverance by
the assassination of the king. Baldwin had a Saracen
servant who professed extreme attachment to his
person. He had apostatized to the Christian faith,
and received the king's own name at the font of bap-
tism. To him the chiefs of Sidon made overtures.
They offered him boundless wealth in their city, if he
would contrive to assassinate the king. Baldwin the
servant agreed to commit the deed, and would have
done it, had it not been that certain Christians in the
city, getting to know of the plot, conveyed information
of it by means of an arrow which they fired into the
camp. The king called a council. The unfortunate
servant was ' examined,' which probably meant tor-
tured, confessed his guilty intentions, and was promptly
hanged. This appears to be the first mention of an
attempted assassination, a method which the Sara-
cens, by means of the celebrated Ismaelite sect, the
* Assassins,' introduced much later on. The story
bears the impress of improbability. Moreover, imme-
diately afterwards, we are told that Baldwin granted
the city easy terms of capitulation, with permission for
the inhabitants to stay where they were, provided only
they paid tribute. The conditions were faithfully
observed, the Norwegians being either less blood-
thirsty or. more amenable to discipline — probably both
— than the Genoese. They went away after this, and
Baldwin, having made an unsuccessful attempt on
JOCELYN AND BALDWIN. 255
Tyre, which was too strong for his diminished forces,
retired to Acre. In the same year died Tancred, who
recommended his young wife, Cecilia, to marry Pons,
the son of Bertram, who was already dead, as soon as
he should be of age. Roger, the son of his sister, was
to hold all his states in trust for young Bohemond and
Pons.
During these contests on the seaboard, the Saracens
inland had been quietly composing their differences and
arranging for a combined assault upon the common
enemy. In 1112 they had essayed an expedition
against Edessa, but received a check serious enough
to make them fall back in disorder. Next year, with a
far larger force, they formed a sort of encampment
south of the Lake of Tiberias, and overran the country,
pillaging and burning as far as they dared. Baldwin
hastily sent for Roger of Antioch and the Count of
Tripoli to come to his assistance. Meantime, with a
small army, of about five thousand in all, he marched to
meet them. With his usual impetuosity he charged
into a small advance troop of cavalry which the Turks
threw out as a trap. These turned and fled. Baldwin
pursued, but fell into an ambuscade, whence he escaped
with the greatest difficulty, leaving his banner, that
white streamer which he bore at the head of his troops
in every battle, behind him. The patriarch, now that
same Arnold, ' Satan's eldest son,' who was with him,
had, too, a narrow escape. In this disastrous day the
Christians lost about twelve hundred men. Next morn-
ing came the king's auxiliaries, and the Christian army,
leaving their camp and baggage, retreated into the
mountains, where they waited for reinforcements.
This was the most serious check yet given to the
victorious career of the Christians. The people of
256 JERUSALEM.
Ascalon, as usual, ready to take advantage of every
opportunity, sallied forth and invested Jerusalem, now
almost entirely without troops. But they do not seem
to have attempted a regular siege, or, at least, were un-
successful, and, after ravaging the country for miles
round, they retreated to their own city. Probably
their experience of Baldwin's vigour was greater than
their confidence in the success of their co-religionists,
and they thought certain plunder was better than the
dubious chances of a protracted siege.
Fortunately it was now late in the summer. With
the autumn came the first shiploads of pilgrims and
consequently reinforcements for Baldwin. The Sara-
cens, satisfied with their victory, and fearing reprisals,
judged it prudent to retire, and accordingly fell back on
Damascus, where their general-in-chief, Maudud, was
murdered. It was well for the Christian kingdom that
they went away when they did. For a universal panic
had seized on all the cities, and it wanted but an un-
successful engagement to put an end to the Christian
power altogether. More misfortunes fell upon them.
There was a terrible famine at Edessa and in Antioch ;
and an earthquake was felt through the whole of Syria,
from north to south. Whole cities of Cilicia were
thrown into ruins. Thirteen towns fell in Edessa ; and
in Antioch many churches were destroyed. In the
famine which devastated Edessa, Baldwin du Bourg
looked for aid from Count Jocelyn, but was dis-
appointed. Moreover, when he sent deputies to
Antioch, these werejnsulted by Jocelyn's knights, who
taunted them with the apathy and indolence of their
lord. Baldwin du Bourg determined on revenge.
Pretending to be sick, he sent for Jocelyn, who came
without suspicion, and was received by the other in
JOCELYN AND BALDWIN. 257
bed. Then, reproaching hiin in the bitterest terms for
ingratitude, he ordered him to be thrown into prison,
loaded with chains, and deprived him of all his posses-
sions. As soon as Jocelyn was free he went to join the
king at Jerusalem, and seems, like an honest knight
and good fellow, as he was, to have entirely forgiven
his ill-treatment. Certainly he deserved it.
The next year saw another defeat of the Saracens.
The Emir was accused of complicity in the murder of
Maudud, and a vast army was gathered together,
against Damascus in the first instance, and the
Christians in the second. Baldwin entered into
alliance with the Emir, and though the Caliph's army
avoided a battle, so formidable a coalition sufficed to
drive back the invaders. Nevertheless, the Christians
looked with horror on an alliance so unnatural. Count
Roger of Antioch at the same time dispersed the
Turkish army in alliance with Toghtegin, and for a
time at least Palestine was free from enemies on the
north and east.
Baldwin was not, however, disposed to sit down in
peace and rest. He employed what little leisure he
could get in populating his city of Jerusalem by per-
suading the Christians across the Jordan to give up
their pastures and meadows, and come under his pro-
tection. He founded the stronghold of Montreal, in
Moab, on the site of the old city of Diban, and he
made a second journey to the east and south of his
kingdom, with twelve hundred horse and four hundred
foot, penetrating as far, we are told, as the Red Sea,
probably to Petra — Albert of Aix says Horeb, ' where
he built in eighteen days a new castle.' These affairs
being settled, and there being every appearance of
tranquillity in all directions, he turned his thoughts to
17
258 JERUSALEM.
the conquest of Egypt, and actually set off to accomplish
this with an army of one hundred and sixteen knights
and four hundred foot soldiers. They penetrated as far
as Pharamia, near the ancient Pelusium, which the in-
habitants abandoned in a panic. They found here
food and drink in plenty, and rested for two whole
days. On the third, certain of the more prudent came
to Baldwin : ' We are few in number,' they said ; ' our
arrival is known in all the country ; it is only three days'
march from here to Cairo. Let us therefore take
counsel how best to get out of the place.'
The king, seeing the wisdom of this advice, ordered
the walls to be thrown down, and all the houses of the
town to be set on fire. But whether it was the heat of
the day or the effect of over-exertion, he felt in the
evening violent pains which increased hourly. To be
sick in the East was then to be on the point of death,
and, despairing of recovery, he sent for his chiefs, and
acquainted them with the certainty of his end. All
burst into tears and lamentations, quite selfishly, it
would seem, and on their own accounts, ' for no one
had any hope, from that moment, of ever seeing
Jerusalem again.' Then the king raised himself and
spoke to them, despite his sufferings. 'Why, my
brothers and companions in arms, should the death of
a single man strike down your hearts and oppress you
with feebleness in this land of pilgrimage, and in the
midst of our enemies ? Remember, in the name of
God, that there are many among you whose strength is
as great or greater than mine. Quit yourselves, then,
like men, and devise the means of returning sword in
hand, and maintaining the kingdom of Jerusalem
according to your oaths.' And then, as if for a last
prayer, he implored them not to bury his body in the
DEA TH OF BALD WIN. 259
land of the stranger, but to take it to Jerusalem, and lay
it beside his brother Godfrey. His soldiers burst into
tears. How could they carry, in the heat of summer,
his body so far ? But the king sent for Odo, his cook.
'Know,' he said, ' that I am about to die. If you have
loved me in health, preserve your fidelity in death.
Open my body as soon as the breath is out of it, fill me
with salt and spice, and bear me to Jerusalem, to be
buried in the forms of the Church.'
They bore him along, still living. On the third day
of the week the end came, and Baldwin died. With
his last breath he named his brother Eustace as his
successor, but if he would not take the crown, he gave
them liberty to choose any other. Odo the cook
executed his wishes ; his bowels were buried at Al
Arish, and the little army, in sadness and with mis-
givings of evil, returned to Jerusalem, bringing with
them the king who had so often led them to victory.
It was on Palm Sunday when they arrived. They
met, in the valley of Jehoshaphat, the people of the
city all dressed in festival garb, and singing psalms of
joy, to celebrate the feast. Joy was turned into mourn-
ing, and the procession of clergy which was descending
the Mount of Olives met, ' by express order of God, and
an inconceivable chance,' the little troop which bore
back the remains of the king. They buried him beside
his brother ; Baldwin du Bourg, the Count of Edessa,
being the chief mourner, as he was his nearest re-
lation.*
So died the greatest of the Christian kings, the
* The epitaph on his tomb described him as
' Judae alter Machabaeus
Spes patrice, vigor ecclesice.'
It was obviously not written by the Patriarch Dagobert.
17 — 2
260 JERUSALEM.
strongest as well as the wisest. His faults were those
of the age ; he was, however, before the age ; not so
cruel, not so ignorant, not so superstitious, not so
bigoted. He was among the first to recognise the fact
that a man may be an infidel and yet be worthy of
friendship; he was, also the first to resist the extravagant
pretensions of the Church, and the greed of the Latin
priests. He was, like his brother, the defender by oath
of the Holy Sepulchre, but he would not consent to
become a mere servant of the patriarch while he was
styled the king of the country. We have stated above
that his chief fault was an excessive love of women, and
this he was wise enough to conceal. But the charge is
brought forward by his priestly biographers, who, which
is significant, do not advance against him a single
definite case to support it. William of Tyre wanted
something, perhaps, to allege against a man who dared
beard a bishop at his own table and swear at his
gluttony and luxury. In any case he had very little
leisure for indulgence in vice. He married three times,
his first wife being an Englishwoman, who died on her
way out. His second was the daughter of an Armenian
prince, whom he divorced on the charge of adultery.
Dagobert maintained that she was innocent, probably
with a view to blacken the character of the king, but the
divorced queen, going to Constantinople, justified by
her conduct there the worst accusations that could be
brought against her. The third time he married the
widow of Roger, Count of Sicily, Adelaide by name.
She brought whole shiploads of treasure with her ; the
marriage was celebrated with every demonstration of
joy, and the new queen's generosity caused rejoicing
through all the land. But the year before he died, and
three years after the marriage, Baldwin had an illness
DEA TH OF BALD WIN. 26 1
which led him to reflect on a marriage contracted while
his divorced wife was still living, and he sent her back.
It was an unlucky wedding for the country, because the
Normans in Sicily could not forgive this treatment of
one of their blood, and thus another powerful ally was
lost to the kingdom. As for Adelaide, she returned to
Sicily filled with shame and rage, and died the same
year as her husband.
In that year, too, died Alexis Comnenus, Pascal, the
pope, and Arnold, the patriarch. Foulcher of Chartres
is careful to tell us that he saw himself that very year
a red light in the heavens at dead of night. It cer-
tainly portended something, most probably something
disastrous. ' Quite uncertain as to what the event
might prove, we left it in all humility, and unani-
mously, to the will of the Lord. Some of us, neverthe-
less, saw in the prodigy a presage of the deaths of
those great persons who died that same year.' Which
doubtless it was.
CHAPTER IX.
KING BALDWIN II. A.D. IIl8 — II3I.
' Veramente e costui nato all' impero
Si del regnar del commandar sa Tarti ;
E non minor che duce e cavaliere.'
As the soldiers bearing the body of King Baldwin
entered the city at one gate, his cousin, Baldwin du
Bourg, Count of Edessa, came in at another. He
was in time to be present at the funeral. Immediately
afterwards a council was held to determine on his suc-
cessor. On the one hand, by the laws of succession,
and in accordance with the king's own request, Eustace,
his brother, should have been the heir. But Eustace
was in France. It would have been many months
before he could be brought to Palestine, and the state
of affairs brooked no delay. While the minds of the
electing council were still uncertain what to do, Jocelyn
stood up and spoke : ' We have here,' he said, ' the
Count of Edessa, a just man, and one who fears God,
the cousin of the late king, valiant in battle, and
worthy of praise on all points ; no country could
furnish us a better king ; it were better to choose him
at once than wait for chances full of peril.'
Jocelyn was the old enemy of Baldwin ; he was
supposed, but unjustly, to bear him a grudge for the
ill-treatment he had received at the count's hands ; his
BALDWIN DU BOURG. 263
advice, therefore, bore the more weight, as it seemed
entirely disinterested. Arnold, the patriarch, seconded
him, and Baldwin was chosen king unanimously.
Whether Jocelyn's advice was altogether disinter-
ested may be doubted. At all events he received from
the new king the investiture of the principality of
Edessa, as a reward for his services. Baldwin was
crowned, like his predecessor, in Bethlehem, on Ascen-
sion Day.
The new king, the date of whose birth is uncertain,
was the son of Count Hugh of Rethel and his wife
Milicent. He was the cousin of Godfrey, with whom
he started for Palestine. He had two brothers, one of
whom was the Archbishop of Rheims, and the other
succeeded his father; but dying without children, the
archbishop gave up his episcopate, and married, in
order to continue the family. Baldwin himself was
above the ordinary stature, wonderfully active, skilful
in horsemanship, and of great strength and bravery.
His hair, we are told, was thin and fair, and already
streaked with gray. He was married to an Armenian
princess, by whom he had several daughters, but no
sons. He wore a long Oriental beard, but though he
conformed in many respects to Eastern habits, he had
not forgotten his early piety, and scrupulously obeyed
the rules of the Church, insomuch that we are told that
his knees were covered with callosities, the result of
j many prayers and penances. He was already well
advanced in years.
Count Eustace, hearing in France of his brother's
death, set off at once to take possession of the kingdom
which was his by right of succession. But on arriving
in Apulia, he heard the news of Baldwin's succession,
and immediately turned back, content to spend the
264 JERUSALEM.
rest of his days in obscurity, rather than disturb the
peace of Palestine by an unseemly rivalry.
The first year of the king's reign was marked by the
customary invasion of the kingdom from Egypt and
the dispersion, this time without a battle, of the in-
vaders. The next was a year of calamity. For Count
Roger of Aleppo, with his little army, was utterly de-
feated by the Turks, the count himself being slain, and
a large number of his knights taken prisoner and treated
with the greatest cruelty. Nor was this all. Ilgazi,
the Prince of Aleppo, who had defeated Roger, died,
and was succeeded by his much abler nephew, Balak,
who made an incursion into the territory of Edessa,
and captured Count Jocelyn with his nephew, Galeran,
and sixty knights. Thus the two most important out-
lying provinces were deprived of their rulers. More-
over, the whole country was afflicted with countless
swarms of locusts and rats, which devoured every
green thing, so that the Christians were threatened
with famine. Baldwin called together a general council
at Nablous, and the patriarch preached to the people
on the sinfulness of their lives, pointing out that their
afflictions were due to their own crimes and excesses,
and calling on them to amend and lead better lives.
After confession and protestations of repentance, the
king and his army moved northwards to Antioch and
defeated the Turks in their turn.
Certain small changes in the internal administration,
only of importance as pointing to the decadence of the
old ferocity against the Saracens, were introduced by
the king in Jerusalem. For, besides remitting the old
heavy dues on exportation and importation, so far as
the Latins were concerned, Baldwin granted a sort of
free trade to all Syrians, Greeks, ' and even Saracens,'
CAPTIVITY OF THE KING. 265
to bring provisions of all kinds into the city for sale
without fear of exaction. His wise idea was to increase
the population of the city, and therefore its strength,
by making it the most privileged town in his realm, and
the central market of Palestine.
But in 1 124 a misfortune fell upon him which might
have been fatal to his kingdom. For, after Jocelyn's
capture, he led his forces into Edessa, and there,
marching one night in February, without taking proper
precautions, his men being allowed to disperse in various
directions, he fell into an ambuscade, and was made
prisoner himself by Balak, who sent him in irons to the
fortress of Khortbert.
And now the country was without a ruler. In this
emergency, the barons assembled at Acre and elected
as Regent, Eustace Gamier, the Baron of Sidon and
Caesarea, who proved worthy of their confidence.
The story of the king's captivity is like a chapter of a
romance. For while he was in fetters with Jocelyn at
Khortbert, certain Armenians, fifty in number, swore a
solemn oath to one another that the king should be
released. Disguising themselves as monks,* and
hiding daggers under their long robes, they went to
the citadel, and putting on a melancholy and injured
air, they pretended to have been attacked and robbed
on the road, and demanded to be admitted to the
governor of the castle, in order to have redress. They
were allowed to enter, and directly they got within the
walls they drew out their weapons, slaughtered every
Saracen, made themselves masters of the place, and
released the king from his fetters. But not from his
prison, for the Turks, furious at the intelligence, which
* This is William of Tyre's account. He says that, according
to others, they were disguised as merchants.
266 JERUSALEM.
spread quickly enough, gathered together from all
quarters, resolved to bar their escape till Balak could
send reinforcements strong enough to retake the place.
After a hurried council, it was resolved within the fort
that Jocelyn should attempt the perilous task of escap-
ing. Three men were deputed to go with him, two
to accompany him on his road, and one to return to
the king with the news that he had safely got through
the enemy. Jocelyn took a solemn oath that he would
lose no time in raising an army of assistance, and swore,
besides, that he would neither shave his beard nor
drink wine till the king was released. He then slipped
out under cover of the darkness, and the king, resolved
to defend the castle till the last, set to work on his
fortifications.
That night Balak had a fearful dream. He thought
that he met the terrible Jocelyn, alone and unprotected,
and that the Christian knight, hurling him to the
ground, tore out both his eyes. Awaking with fright,
he sent off messengers in hot haste to behead Jocelyn
at once. They arrived too late. The castle was taken
and the bird was flown. But the flight of the count
was full of dangers. He got safely enough to the banks
of the Euphrates, but here an unforeseen difficulty met
him, for he could not swim. How to cross the river ?
They had two leathern bottles. These, inflated, they
tied round Jocelyn's body, and the other two men, who
could swim, steering by the right and left, managed to
get him across the water. Then they went on, bare-
footed, hungry, and thirsty, till Jocelyn could travel no
farther, and, covering himself with branches, in order
to conceal himself, he lay down to sleep. One of the
attendants, meantime, was sent off to find some in-
habitant of the country, and either beg, buy, or rob
JOCELYN'S ESCAPE. 267
provisions of some kind. He met an Armenian peasant
loaded with grapes and wild figs, whom he brought
along to his master. The peasant knew him. 'Hail,
Lord Jocelyn !' he cried, at sight of the ragged knight.
'At these words,' says Foulcher, 'which the count
would fain not have heard, he replied, all in alarm, but
nevertheless with mildness, " I am not he whom you
name ; may the Lord help him wherever he be."
' " Seek not," said the peasant, " to conceal thyself.
Fear nothing, and tell me what evil has befallen thee."
' " Whoever thou art," said the count, " have pity on
me ; do not, I pray, make known my misfortune to my
enemies ; lead me into some place where I may be in
safety. ... I am a fugitive and a wanderer. . . . Tell
me what property thou hast in this place, and what is
its value ; and I will give thee property of far more
worth in my own dominion."
1 " Seigneur, I ask nothing," replied the other. " I will
lead thee safe and sound where thou wishest to go ; once
thou didst deprive thyself of bread to make me eat. It
is now my turn. I have a wife, an only daughter of
tender years, an ass, two brothers, and two oxen. I
will go with thee and carry everything away. I have
also a pig, which I will bring here immediately."
1 " Nay, my brother," said the count, " a whole pig
may not be eaten in a single meal, and we must not
excite suspicions." '
The peasant went away, and presently returned with
all his family — though, curiously enough, Foulcher says
nothing at all about his wife. Perhaps she was left
behind, like Creusa. The count mounts the ass, takes
the child in his arms, and they start. On the road
the child began to cry, and ' to torment the count with
its wailing.' He did not know how to appease it ;
268 JERUSALEM.
- for Jocelyn had never learned the art of soothing
infants by caresses ;' he began at first to think of throw-
ing away the baby, or of leaving it by the wayside,
and so getting rid of a travelling companion who might
bring them all to grief; but, 'perceiving that this
project did not please the peasant, and fearing to afflict
him,' he continued, with the greatest consideration, to
endure ' this new trouble,' till they arrived at his castle
at Turbessel, where there was great rejoicing. Can
there be a quainter figure than this of the count
mounted on the ass, carrying the squalling baby, and
divided between rage at its screams and gratitude to
the peasant, his deliverer ?
Meantime, the king was not prospering. Balak, in
a rage that one of his enemies had escaped him,
hastened himself to the castle of Khortbert with so
large an army as to deprive Baldwin of any hope of
success. The fort was built on a chalk hill easy to cut
into. Balak sent sappers, who made excavations under
the principal tower, and then, filling the cavern with
wood, he set fire to it. When the wood was consumed
the chalk was softened and the tower came down with
a crash. Then Baldwin, against his will, surrendered
unconditionally. Life was granted to him, to Galeran,
and to the king's nephew. But the poor faithful
Armenians, the cause of Jocelyn's escape and the
massacre of the garrison, were treated with the most
cruel inhumanity. All were murdered, most by tor-
tures of the most horrid description, of which sawing
in halves and roasting alive, being buried alive, and
being set up naked as marks for children to fire arrows
at, are given as a few specimens. Jocelyn, who had
been hastily collecting an army, gave up the design of
a rescue in despair, and went to Jerusalem.
THE VENETIANS. 269
And then the Egyptians made a formidable incursion.
This time things looked desperate indeed. A rigorous
fast was ordered. Even the babes at the breast were
denied their mothers' milk, and the very cattle were
driven off their pastures, as if the sight of the suf-
ferings of these helpless creatures would incline the
Lord to pity. At least, it inclined the Christians to
fury. They issued from Jerusalem to the sound of the
great bell, under Eustace Gamier, the regent, to the
number of three thousand combatants only. With
them was carried the wood of the true Cross, the Holy
Lance, and a vase containing some of the milk of the
Blessed Virgin. Again the Christians were victorious,
and the army of the enemy fled in panic behind the
walls of Ascalon. But the Christians could only act on
the defensive. There was not only no chance of ex-
tending their dominions, but even only a slender one of
keeping them. Relief came, in the shape of a great
Venetian fleet.
The Venetians had held serious counsel as to whether
they should go on with their old traffic with the Mo-
hammedans, by which they had enriched themselves,
or should imitate the example of their rivals, the
Genoese, and make money out of the Christians in
Palestine. They decided on the latter course, and
fitted out a strong and well-armed fleet. On the way
they fought two victorious battles, one with their rivals,
the Genoese, returning laden with the proceeds of the
season's trade, whom they stripped, and one with the
Egyptian fleet, which they cut to pieces. This accom-
plished, they arrived off Palestine, and offered to make
terms for assistance in a year's campaign. Their
terms, like those of the Genoese, were hard. They
were to have, if a town was taken, a church, a street,
270 JERUSALEM.
an oven, and a tribunal of their own. Of course these
were acceded to. To find money to pay the knights,
the regent had to take all the vessels and ornaments
of the churches and melt them down.
Of all the towns on the coast between Antioch and
Ascalon, only two remained in the hands of the Moham-
medans. But these two were of the greatest import-
ance. For while Tyre remained a Saracen city it
could be made the centre of operations against the
principality of Antioch on the north and the kingdom
of Palestine on the south ; while if Ascalon were taken
the Egyptians would be deprived of their means of
attack, and would be obliged to invade the country
through the desert. Opinions were so much divided on
the matter that it was decided to refer the decision to
lot, and a child, an orphan, was selected to take from
the altar one of two pieces of paper, containing the
names of the two towns. The lot fell on Tyre, and
Eustace Gamier marched northwards, with all the
troops that he could raise.
About this point William of Tyre, who has been
gradually passing from the vague hearsay history of
events which happened while he was a child to a clear
and detailed narrative of events of which he was either
a spectator or a contemporary, becomes more and more
interesting. We cannot afford the space, nor does it
fall within the limits of this volume, to give more than
the leading incidents in the fortunes of the provinces of
the Christian kingdom. We cannot, therefore, linger
over the details of this siege, of the greatest importance
to the safety of the Christians. The town belonged to
the Caliph of Egypt, who held two-thirds of it, and to
the Emir, or King, of Damascus, who owned the rest.
The Christian army, demoralized by the absence of the
SIEGE OF TYRE. 271
king, and disheartened by the reverses which of late had
attended their efforts, began badly. They murmured
at the hardships and continual fighting they had to
undergo, nor would they have persisted in the siege but
for two things, the presence of the Venetians, which
stimulated their ardour, and the joyful news that the
formidable Balak was dead. He was killed by Jocelyn
himself, who ran him through with his sword and then
cut off his head without knowing who was his adversary.
Thus Balak's dream, says the Christian historian, was
in a manner fulfilled, though the Arabs, not having a
dream to accomplish, tell the story of his death in
another way.
The people of Ascalon, ' like unquiet wasps, always
occupied with the desire of doing mischief,' seeing that
the whole army was away at Tyre, and hoping to catch
Jerusalem unguarded, appeared suddenly within a few
miles of the city, in great force. After ravaging and
pillaging for a time, they were seized with a sudden
panic, and all fled back to their town, without any
enemy in sight.
The siege of Tyre was concluded on the 29th of
June, 1 124, on the conditions which had now become
customary. The Tyrians could go away if they pleased.
Those who chose to stay could do so without fear. And
the historian tells how, when the treaty of surrender was
concluded, Tyrians and Christians visited each other's
camp, and admired the siege artillery on the one hand,
and the walls and strength of the town on the other.
We are therefore approaching the period of what may
be called friendly warfare. Godfrey thought an infidel
was one with whom no dealings were to be held, to
whom no mercy was to be shown. Baldwin, taught by
i his Armenian wife, and by his experience in Edessa,
1
272 JERUSALEM.
went so far as to shock the Christians by an alliance
with the Damascenes. His successor could not prevent
his men, even if he tried, from friendly intercourse with
the enemy.
The changes which had been wrought by time are
graphically put forth by our friend Foulcher de
Chartres. ' Consider,' he says, ' how the West has
been turned into the East ; how he who was of the
West has become of the East ; he who was Roman or
Frank has become here a Galilsean or an inhabitant of
Palestine ; he who was a citizen of Rheims or of
Chartres is become a citizen of Tyre or of Antioch.
We have already forgotten the places of our birth ;
they are even by this time either unknown to most
of us, or at least never spoken of. Some of us hold
lands and houses by hereditary right ; one has married
a woman who is not of his own country — a Syrian, an
Armenian, or even a Saracen who has abjured her
faith ; another has with him his son-in-law, or his
father-in-law ; this one is surrounded by his nephews
and his grandchildren ; one cultivates vines, another
the fields ; they all talk different languages, and yet
succeed in understanding one another. . . . The stranger
has become the native, the pilgrim the resident ; day
by day our relations come from the West and stay with
us. Those who were poor at home God has made
rich here ; those who at home had nothing but a farm,
here have a city. Why should he who finds the East
so fortunate return again to the West ?' The plenty
and sunshine of Palestine, where every Frank was a
sort of aristocrat by right of colour, no doubt gave
charms to a life which otherwise was one of constant
fighting and struggle. Palestine was to France in this
century what America was to Spain in the sixteenth,
CHRISTIAN OCCUPATION. 273
— the land of prosperity, plenty, and danger. How the
country got peopled is told by another writer, Jacques
de Vitry, in too glowing colours.
' The Holy Land flourished like a garden of delight.
The deserts were changed into fat and fertile meadows,
harvests raised their heads where once had been the
dwelling-places of serpents and dragons. Hither the
Lord, who had once abandoned this land, gathered
together His children. Men of every tribe and every
nation came there by the inspiration of heaven and
doubled the population. They came in crowds from
beyond the sea, especially from Genoa, Venice, and Pisa.
But the greatest force of the realm was from France
and Germany. The Italians are more courageous at
sea, the French and Germans on land, . . . those of
Italy are sober in their meals, polished in their dis-
course, circumspect in their resolutions, prompt to
execute them ; full of forethought, submitting with
difficulty to others ; defending their liberty above all ;
making their own laws, and trusting for their execution
to chiefs whom themselves have elected. They are
very necessary for the Holy Land, not only for fighting,
but for the transport of pilgrims and provisions. As
they are sober they live longer in the East than other
nations of the West. The Germans, the Franks, the
Bretons, the English, and others beyond the Alps are
less deceitful, less circumspect, but more impetuous ;
less sober, more prodigal ; less discreet, less prudent,
more devout, more charitable, more courageous ; there-
fore they are considered more useful for the defence of
the Holy Land, especially the Bretons, and more
formidable against the Saracens.'
But evil came of prosperity. As for the bishops and
clergy, they took all, and gave nothing. To them, we
18
274 JERUSALEM.
are told, it was as if Christ's command had not been
' Feed My sheep/ but ' Shear My sheep.' The regular
orders, infected with wealth, lost their piety with their
poverty, their discipline with their adversity ; they
fought, quarrelled, and gave occasion for every kind of
scandal. As for the laity, they were as bad. A
generation dissolute, corrupt, and careless had sprung
from the first Crusaders.* Their mothers had been
Armenians, Greeks, or Syrians. They succeeded to
the possessions, but not to the manners of their fathers ;
all the world knows, says the historian, how they were
lapped in delights, soft, effeminate, more accustomed to
baths than to fighting, given over to debauchery and im-
purity, going dressed as softly as women, cowardly, lazy,
and pusillanimous before the enemies of Christ, despised
by the Saracens, and preferring rather to have peace at
any price than to defend their own possessions. No
doubt the climate of Syria rapidly produced a
degeneracy in the courage and strength of the Latin
race, but the writer's style is too full of adjectives. He
screams like an angry woman when he declaims against
the age, which was probably no worse than its pre-
decessors, and the heat of his invective deprives it of
most of its force.
It was in Baldwin's reign that the Knights Templars
were founded, and the Hospitallers became a military
order.
From very early times an order known as that of
St. Lazarus had existed, dedicated to the service of
lepers and of pilgrims. They had a hospital at first in
Acre ; they were protected by the late emperors ; their
brethren accompanied the army of Heraclius as a sort
of ambulance corps ; they obtained permission to estab-
* They were called pullani, see p. 222.
!
KNIGHTS HOSPITALLERS. 275
lish themselves in Bethlehem, Jerusalem, and Nazareth,
and they had a settlement at Cyprus. After the first
Crusade they divided into three classes : the knights, or
righting brothers ; the physicians, or medical brothers ;
and the priests, who administered the last rites of the
Church to dying men. These establishments spread
over France, Italy, and Germany ; they became rich.
The knights appear to have disappeared gradually ;
they spent their money in sending pilgrims out in ships,
and in paying the ransoms of those who were taken
prisoners.
The origin of the Knights Hospitallers, originally
only the Brothers of St. John, took place just before
the first Crusade. The order was founded by a certain
citizen of Amain, Gerard by name. There are many
stories about his life. By some he is confounded with
that Gerard d'Avesnes who, a hostage in the hand of
the Emir of Arsuf, was bound by him to a piece
of timber in the place against which the machines were
chiefly directed, in hopes that the sight might induce
Godfrey to desist. But Godfrey persisted, and Gerard,
though pierced with arrows, eventually recovered.
Probably, however, this was another Gerard. The
order began with a monastery near the Church of the
Sepulchre, and in n 13 received a charter from the
Pope. Their immediate object, like that of the Brothers
of St. Lazarus, was to help the wounded; their bread
and meat were of the coarsest ; they did not disdain
the most menial offices ; and in spite of their voluntary
hardships, and the repulsive duties of their office, they
rapidly grew and became wealthy. Raymond Dupuy,
grand master in 1118, modified the existing statutes of
this order, and made every brother take the oath to
fight, in addition to his other duties. Henceforth it
i8— 2
276 JERUSALEM.
was a military order, divided into languages, having
commanderies for every language, and lands in every
country. Its habit consisted of a black robe, with a
mantle to which was sewn a hood ; on the left shoulder
was an eight-pointed cross ; and later, for the knights,
a coat-of-arms was added. And this habit was so
honourable that he who fled was judged unworthy to
wear it. Those who entered the order out of Palestine
might wear the cross without the mantle. Riches pre-
sently corrupted the early discipline, and pope after
pope addressed them on the subject of the laxity of
their morals. Their history, however, does not belong
to us. How they fought at Rhodes, and how they held
Malta, belong to another history. It is the only one of
the military orders not yet extinct.
It was in the year 1118 that the proud and aristo-
cratic order of Knights Templars was first instituted.
Nine knights, nobly born, consecrated themselves, by
a solemn vow, to protect pilgrims on the roads, and to
labour for the safety and welfare of the Church. Their
leaders were Hugh de Payens and Geoffrey de St.
Aldemar. They had no church or place of residence,
and the king assigned to them the building south of
the Dome of the Rock, now called the Jami' el Aksa.
It was then called the Palace of Solomon, or the Royal
Palace, and William of Tyre is careful to distinguish
between it and the Dome of the Rock, which he calls
the Temple of the Lord. The canons of the Temple
also allowed the knights to make use of their own
ground — that is, of the Haram Area. For nine years
they wore no distinctive habit, and had no worldly
possessions. But at the Council of Troyes, where they
were represented by deputies, their cause was taken up
by the Church, and they obtained permission to wear;
KNIGHTS TEMPLARS. 277
a white mantle with a red cross. Then, for some reason
or other, they became the most popular of all the
orders, and the richest. Their wealth quickly intro-
duced pride and luxury, and William of Tyre complains
that even in his time, writing only some fifty years
after their foundation, there were three hundred
knights, without serving brothers, ' whose number was
infinite ;' that, though they had kept the rules of their
first profession, they had forgotten the duty of humility,
had withdrawn themselves from the authority of the
Patriarch of Jerusalem, and were already rendering
themselves extremely obnoxious to the Church by de-
priving it of its tithes and first-fruits. Here we see the
first appearance of that hostility to the Church which
afterwards caused the fall of the Templars. The recep-
tion of a new knight was a kind of initiation. The
chapter assembled by night with closed doors, the can-
didate waiting without. Two brothers were sent out,
three times in succession, to ask him if he wished to
enter the brotherhood. The candidate replied to each
interrogatory, and then, to signify the poverty of his
condition and the modest nature of his wants, he was
to ask three times for bread and water. After this he
was introduced in due form, and, after the customary
ceremonies and questions, was made to take the oath
of poverty, chastity, obedience, and devotion to the
defence of Palestine. The following is given as the
formula, or part of it : 'I swear to consecrate my
speech, my strength, and my life to defend the belief in
the unity of God and the mysteries of the faith ; I pro-
mise to be submissive and obedient to the grand master
of the order. When the Saracens invade the lands of
the Christians, I will pass over the seas to deliver my
brethren ; I will give the succour of my arm to the
278 JERUSALEM.
Church and the kings against the infidel princes. So
long as my enemies shall be only three to one against
me I will fight them, and will never take flight ; alone
I will combat them if they are unbelievers.'
Everything was done by threes, because three sig-
nifies the mystery of the Trinity. Three times a year
the knights were enumerated ; three times a week they
heard mass and could eat meat ; three times a week
they gave alms ; while those who failed in their duty
were scourged three times in open chapter.
In later times the simple ceremony of admission
became complicated by symbolical rites and cere-
monies. The candidate was stripped of all his clothes ;
poor, naked, and helpless, he was to stand without the
door and seek admission. This was not all. He yet
had his religion. He was required to spit upon the
cross and deny his Saviour. And then, with nothing
to help him, nothing to fall back upon, he was to be
rebaptized in the chapter of the order : to owe every-
thing to the Templars, to belong to them by the sacred
kiss of brotherhood, by the oaths of secrecy, by the
memory of his readmission into Christianity, by the
glorious traditions of the order, and lastly, as is mere
than probable, by that mysterious teaching which put
the order above the Church, and gave an inner and a
deeper meaning to doctrines which the vulgar accepted
in their literal sense. It is impossible now to say
whether the Templars were Gnostic or not ; probably
they may have imbibed in the East not only that con-
tempt for the vulgar Christianity which undoubtedly
belonged to them, but also whatever there was left of
Gnosticism floating about in the minds and memories
of men. In that strange time of doubt and restlessness
the revolt against Rome took many forms. There was
KNIGHTS TEMPLARS. 279
the religion of the Troubadour, half a mocking denial,
half a jesting question; there was the angry protest of
the Provencal, that every man is a priest unto himself;
there was the strange and mysterious teaching of the
Abbot Joachim ; and there was, besides, the secret
creed, which owned no bishop and would obey no
pope, of these Knights Templars.
But this was to come ; we are still in the time when
St. Bernard can write of them, ' O happy state of life,
wherein one may wait for death without fear, even
wish for it, and receive it with firmness !' This was
when their banner Beauseant was borne in the front
of every battle, with its humble legend, ' Not unto
us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto Thy name give the
glory.'
In the thirteenth century, the Hospitallers had nine
thousand manors, and the Templars nineteen thousand.
Each of these could maintain a knight in Palestine.
And yet they did nothing for the deliverance of the
country.
Li freres, li mestre du Temple,
Qu'estoient rempli et ample
D'or, et d'argent, et de richesse,
Et qui menoient toute noblesse,
Ou sont ils ?
After the reconquest of Palestine, and until their
final and cruel suppression, they seem to have given up
all thoughts of their first vows, and to have become
an aristocratic order, admission into which was a
privilege, which involved no duties, demanded no
sacrifices, and conferred great power and distinction.
To be a Templar was for a younger son of a noble
house to become a sort of fellow of a college, only a
college far more magnificent and splendid than any-
thing which remains to us.
28o JERUSALEM.
The Teutonic order was founded later, during the
Crusade of Frederick Barbarossa. It was at first called
the Order of St. George, After a stay of some time
at Jerusalem, the knights, who were always Germans,
went to Acre. And thence, receiving the provinces of
Livonia, Culm, and all they could get of Prussia, they
removed to Europe, where they founded Konigsberg
in honour of Louis IX. of France, and did good ser-
vice against the pagans of Prussia. The order did
not remain a Roman Catholic one, as was decided
after the Reformation, and to gain admission into
it it was necessary to prove sixteen quarterings of
nobility.
History, about this time, occupied chiefly in relating
how the Turks on the north, and the Egyptians on the
south, made incursion after incursion, to be beaten
back, each time with more difficulty, becomes some-
what monotonous. King Baldwin II., when the enemy
found that his capture did not affect the success of the
Christian arms, and agreed to accept a ransom for him,
directly he got out of prison assembled his army and
laid siege to Aleppo. Here he was assisted by the
Mohammedans themselves, but, in spite of his auxilia-
ries, was compelled to raise the siege, and returned
to Jerusalem, where he was welcomed by his people.
If he was unfortunate in attack, he was at least for-
tunate in repelling invasion, and beat back the Turks
near Antioch, and again near Damascus. The Turks
were only formidable when they were united ; when, as
often happened, their forces were divided by internal
dissensions among the emirs and princes, the Christians
were at rest, and when these discords were appeased
an invasion followed. With the Egyptians the inva-
sion was annual, but every year growing weaker. Still,
ALICE OF ANTIOCH. 281
though always beaten back, the Mohammedan troops
came again and again, and the crown of Jerusalem was
ever a crown of thorns. Among those who came at
this time to Palestine was young Bohemond, son of
that turbulent Norman who gave Alexis so much
trouble. Baldwin gladly resigned into his hands the prin-
cipality of Antioch, which after the death of Count Roger
had been under his own care. Bohemond was young,
brave, and handsome. Great things were expected of
him. Baldwin gave him his daughter Alice to wife,
and for a little while all went well, through the young
prince's activity and prudence. But he was killed in
Cilicia, leaving no heir but an infant girl. After this
a very curious story is told.
The princess Alice, widow of young Bohemond, re-
solved, if possible, to keep for herself, by any means,
the possessions of her late husband. In order to effect
this, as she knew very well that her daughter would
become the king's ward and heiress of all, she resolved
to try for the help of the Christians' greatest enemy,
Zanghi. She sent a messenger to the Turk, to open
negotiations with him. As a symbol of her good faith,
the messenger was provided with a white palfrey, shod
with silver, with silver bit, and harness mounted all in
silver, and covered with a white cloth. On the way
the messenger was arrested and brought to the king,
who was travelling in haste to Antioch. He confessed
his errand and was executed. But Alice closed the
gates of the city, afraid to meet her father. These
were opened by some of the inhabitants, who did not
choose to participate in this open treason to the Chris-
tian cause, and Alice retreated to the citadel. Finally
the king was prevailed on to pardon her, and she re-
ceived the towns, which had been already settled on her
282 JERUSALEM.
by the marriage deeds, of Laodicea and Gebail. But
she was going to cause more trouble yet.
Another son-in-law of the king was Fulke, who suc-
ceeded him. He came to Palestine as a pilgrim, be-
wailing the death of his wife Ermentrade. Here he
maintained in his pay a hundred men-at-arms for a
whole year, in the king's service. Baldwin, who had
no sons, offered him his daughter Milicent, and the
succession to the crown. Fulke, then thirty-eight years
of age, gratefully accepted the offer, and consoled him-
self for his bereavement.
Baldwin II. died in the year 1131. He had
ruled Edessa for eighteen years, and Jerusalem for
twelve, during which time he had spent seven years in
captivity. He was lamented by his subjects, though
his reign had not been fortunate or successful. Still,
by dint of sheer courage, the boundaries of the
realm had not been contracted. What was really
the fatal thing about his reign was that the Moham-
medans knew now by repeated trials that the Christians
were not invincible. It was a knowledge which every
year deepened, and every petty victory strengthened.
The prestige of their arms once gone, the power of the
Christians was sure to follow.
Religious as Baldwin was, his piety did not prevent
him from asserting the rights of the crown over those
claimed by every successive patriarch, and many
quarrels happened between him and the prelates, who
tried perpetually to extend their temporal power.
During one of these, the patriarch fell ill. Baldwin went
to see him. ' I am,' said the revengeful priest, ' as you
would wish to see me, Sir King,' implying that Bald-
win wished his death, even if he had not compassed it.
William of Tyre, a priest to the backbone, relates this
i
THE CLERGY. 283
incident without a word of comment. It must be re-
membered that the position of the Latin clergy in
Palestine was not by any means so good as that which
they enjoyed in Europe. Their lands were not so large
in proportion, and their dignity and authority less. On
the other hand, they were neither so nobly born, nor
so well bred, nor so learned as their clerical brethren of
the West. Thus it is reported that a Flemish pilgrim
was once raised to the patriarchal seat, simply because,
at the imposture of the Holy Fire, his taper was the
first to light, and it will be remembered how, after the
deposition of Dagobert, Ebremer, a simple and per-
fectly ignorant monk, was put into his place. And
when the pope refused to confirm the appointment, they
made him archbishop of another diocese by way of
compensation.
We have seen, so far, the growth of this little king-
dom, created in a single campaign, sustained by the
valour of kings whose crown was an iron helmet, whose
throne was a camp-stool in a tent, or the saddle of a
horse, whose hands grasped no sceptre but a sword,
who lived hardly, and died in harness. We have next
to see its decline and fall.
Legends of Baldwin's prowess grew up as the years
ran on. As a specimen of the stories which gathered
about his name we subjoin the following translation,
almost literal, from a French romance of the fourteenth
century. It treats of a visit made by Baldwin with two
Mohammedan princes, secretly Christian, to the Old
Man of the Mountains :
' Now,' said the Prince * 'great marvels have I here :'
And summoning from those who waited near
One of his own Assassins, bade him go
Up to the highest tower, and leap below.
Le Vieux de la Montagne.
284 JERUSALEM.
Strange was it when the obedient soldier ran
Joyous, and quick, and smiling, as a man
Who looks for great reward, and through the air
Leaped fearless down. And far below him there
King Baldwin noted how his lifeless bones,
Mangled and shattered, lay about the stones.
When leapt the first man marvelled much the king,
More when five others, as 'twere some light thing,
At his command leaped down from that tall height.
' Sir,' said the Prince, ' no man, of all my might,
But blindly hastens where I point the way,
Nor is there one so mad to disobey.'
4 Now by Mahound,' the Caliph cried, 'not I :
Far be it from me your power to deny.
For, as it seems, the greatest man on earth,
A very god, a greater far in worth
Than Mahomet himself art thou ; for none
Can do, or shall do, what thyself hast done.'
'Thou speakest truth,' the Prince replied, 'and lo !
As yet thou knowest not all, for I can show
The fairest place that ever yet was found.'
And so he led, by many a mazy round
And secret passage, to an orchard fair,
Planted with herbs and fruit trees : hidden there,
Deep in a corner, was a golden gate.
This to the Prince flew open wide, and straight
Great brightness shone upon them, and behind
Upwards long flights of silver stairs did wind.
Two hundred steps they mounted : then, behold,
There lay the garden as the Prince had told.
Ah ! what a garden ! all sweet hues that be,
Azure, and gold, and red, were here to see :
All flowers that God has made were blooming here,
While sparkled three fresh fountains bright and clear -
With claret one ; with mead all honey-sweet
The second ran ; while at their thirsty feet
The third poured white wine. On a dais high
Was set a golden table, and thereby
Sat Ivorine, the fairest maid of earth.
Round her, each one a jewel of great worth,
Two hundred damsels waited on her word,
Or sang as never Baldwin yet had heard
The maids of Europe sing : and here and there
Minstrels with golden harps made music fair ;
Ever they danced and sang : such joy had they,
So light seemed every heart, each maid so gay ;
So sweet the songs they sang, so bright their eyes,
That this fair garden seemed like Paradise.
But Lady Ivorine smiled not, and sat
Downcast and sad, though still content to wait
ROMANS DE BAUDUIN. 285
Her knight — the flower of knighthood — who some day
Would surely come and bear her far away.
Baldwin bethought him of the maiden fair,
Whose fame had gone abroad, and everywhere
Looked, till his eyes fell upon one who seemed
Fairer than mind had pictured, brain had dreamed.
She sat upon a golden seat, alone,
In priceless robes ; upon her head a crown,
Well worth a county : there, row over row,
Full many a sapphire shone with richest glow,
And many a pearl and many a gem beside
Glittered therein the gold beneath to hide.
Her robe was broidered : three long years and more
Toiled on it he who wrought it ; and thrown o'er
A costly mantle lay : from far 'twas brought
In some sweet isle beyond the ocean wrought.
Full seven years a Moslem lady bent
Above her loom, and still her labour spent,
While slowly grew the robe ; for buckle light,
A rich carbuncle glowed, which day and night
Shone like the sun of heaven clear and bright.
And when Lord Baldwin saw this damsel fair,
So mazed he was, he nearly fainted there.
' Baldwin/ said Poliban, 'look not so pale,
If 'tis for doubt or fear your spirits fail.'
'Nay,' said Lord Baldwin, 'but a sudden pain,
Yet see I what would make me well again.'
Then the Prince led them all, these nobles three,
And to his daughter brought them courteously.
' Fair daughter,' said he, ' is there none of these,
Great princes all and brave, that can you please ?'
1 Yea, sire,' the maid replied, ' I see my lord,
The noblest knight is he who wears a sword.
These ten long years I sit, and hope, and wait,
For him, my husband, promised by my fate.
Now leaps my heart : the weary time is past,
My knight, my liege, my lord, is come at last.'
When Baldwin heard these words, joy and surprise
Held all his heart ; but then, across his eyes,
Fell on him a sudden cloud of doubt, and fear
Ran through his chilled brain lest those praises dear
For a companion, not himself, were told.
And, for he could not silence longer hold,
For all the gold of Europe : ' Can it be, 5
He asked the maid, ' that you have chosen me ?'
She smiled upon him. ' Baldwin, be my knight.'
' By heaven,' he cried, ' mine is this jewel so bright.'
But then the Prince, her sire — who liked not well,
That on the poorest lord her favour fell —
286 JERUSALEM.
Angry and wroth, cried, ' Foolish daughter, know,
Your idle words like running water flow,
And matter nothing, until I have willed.'
' Father,' cried Ivorine, ' I am your child ;
And yet, alas ! through my words must you die.
Yea ; for know well that God who dwells on high
Hates those who own Him not : and so hates you.
That lying demon whom you hold for true,
And so teach others, has deceived your heart.
But as for me, ah ! let me take my part
With those who trust in Christ, and place my faith
In that sweet pardon won us by His death.
Father, renounce thy superstitions vain ;
And leave this place, or die, if you remain.'
1 Fool !' cried the Prince, ' I curse thee from this day.'
Then to the Caliph : ■ Slay my daughter, slay.
Strike quickly, lest some evil chance to you.
My daughter kill.'
His sword the Caliph drew,
And struck — but not fair Ivorine. The blade
Smote down the wrathful Prince, and spared the maid.
' Right well,' cried Poliban, ' hast thou obeyed.'
CHAPTER X.
KING FULKE. A.D. II3I — H44.
' I have touched the highest point of all my greatness,
And from that full meridian of my glory,
I haste now to my setting.'
King Lear.
Fulke, Count of Anjou, born about the year 1092,
was thirty-nine years of age at the time when his father-
in-law died, and he became, with his wife Milicent, the
successor to the throne. He was a man of affable and
generous disposition, patient and prudent rather than
impetuous, and of great experience and judgment in
military operations. He was of small stature — all the
previous kings had been tall men — and had red hair ;
'in spite of which,' says William of Tyre, who re-
garded red-haired men with suspicion, ' the Lord found
him, like David, after His own heart.' The principal
defect in him was that he had no memory. He forgot
faces, persons, and promises. He would entertain a
man one day in the most friendly spirit possible,
making all kinds of offers of assistance, and giving him
to understand that he was entirely devoted to his
interests. The next day he would meet him and ask
people who he was, having meanwhile quite forgotten
all about him. This was sometimes extremely em-
barrassing, and * many men who reckoned on their
familiar relations with the king fell into confusion,
JERUSALEM.
reflecting that they themselves, who wanted to show as
protectors and patrons to other people, required a
patron with the king.'
The domestic relations of Fulke were somewhat
complicated, but they bear a certain special interest for
English readers.* His father, Fulke, the Count of
Touraine and Anjou, was married three times, and had
one child from each marriage. His third wife, Ber-
trade, the mother of King Fulke, ran away from him,
and became the mistress of King Philip of France, by
whom she had three children. One of them was that
Caecilia who married Tancred, and, after his death,
Count Pons. Fulke, by means of his mother's in-
fluence, making a wealthy marriage, was the father of
that Geoffrey Plantagenet who married Matilda of
England, and produced the Plantagenet line. His
daughter Matilda was also betrothed to William, the
son of Henry I., and, on the drowning of that prince,
she went into a convent, where she remained. Another
daughter, Sybille, married Thierry, Count of Flanders.
By his second wife, Milicent, Fulke had two sons,
Baldwin and Amaury, both of whom became, in turn,
Kings of Jerusalem.
In the first year of King Fulke's reign died that stout
old warrior, Jocelyn of Edessa. His end was worthy
of his life. In the preceding year he had been besieg-
ing a fort or castle near Aleppo, and had ordered a cer-
tain town to be undermined. While he was personally
superintending the works, the tower suddenly fell and
buried the old count beneath its ruins. They extri-
cated him, but his legs and limbs were broken, and he
never walked again. He retained, however, his power
of speech and his lofty courage, and when, next year,
* See Genealogical Table, p. 233.
DEA TH OF JOCEL YN. 289
the news came that the Sultan of Iconium was besieg-
ing in force one of his strong places, he sent for his son
and ordered him to collect all the men and knights he
could, and march at once to the rescue. But young
Jocelyn, who was, like most of the Syrian-born Chris-
tians, little better than a cur, refused flatly, alleging as
an excuse the disproportion of numbers. The old man,
sorrowful at heart on account of his son's cowardice,
and foreboding the troubles which would surely come
after his own death, ordered his litter to be prepared,
and was carried at the head of his own army to the
relief of the fort. The news reached the Saracens
that old Jocelyn was coming himself, and at the very
mention of his name they broke up their camp and fled.
1 And when he heard this, the count ordered those who
carried his litter to place it on the ground ; then raising
his hands to heaven, with tears and sighs, he returned
thanks to God, who had visited him in his affliction,
and had thus favoured him by suffering him once more,
and for the last time, to be formidable to the enemies
of Christ. And while he poured out his thanks to
heaven, he breathed his last.' There was now no one
left of the old crusading chiefs, and their spirit was dead.
Most of them had married Armenians, and their sons
were degenerate, sensual, and cowardly. Young Jocelyn,
for instance, though married to the most beautiful and
the best woman in the East, the Lady Beatrice, was so
given over to all kinds of licentious excesses and luxuries
that he was, says the historian, covered with infamy.
His daughter married Fulke's son Amaury, and the
evil life of Jocelyn bore its fruits in the leprosy of his
grandson, King Baldwin IV.
Directly the Countess Alice of Antioch heard of her
father's death, she began to plot and intrigue to break
^9
29o JERUSALEM.
through the settlement made in her daughter's favour,
and to get the town and principality for herself. By
means of gifts and promises, she drew over to her own
interests young Jocelyn of Edessa, and Pons, Count of
Tripoli, and the people of Antioch, alarmed for their
future, sent hastily to the king for assistance. Fulke
went first to Beyrout, whence he intended to proceed
through the territories of the Count of Tripoli to
Antioch. But Pons, though his wife was the king's
own sister, positively refused to allow him to pass. The
king went by sea. Then Pons followed him with a
small army. Fulke, getting together some troops at
Antioch, went out to meet him, and an engagement
took place, in which Pons was defeated, and most of
his knights taken prisoners. After this the Count of
Tripoli made his submission, and was reconciled to the
king, who confided the government of Antioch to
Renaud de Margat, and returned to his capital. But
there was no repose for a King of Jerusalem, and the
news came that Zanghi, with a large army, had passed
the Euphrates, and was invading the territory of
Antioch. Once more the order for preparation was
given, and the king marched north. When he arrived
at Sidon, he was met by his sister Caecilia, who told
him how her husband was besieged in Montferrand by
the Saracens, and implored the king, with all a woman's
tears and entreaties, to go first to his assistance.
Zanghi thought best to retire, and raising his camp, got
back across the Euphrates with all his plunder. But
he only retired, ' pour mieux sauter,' and came back in
overwhelming force. And then followed one more,
almost the last, of those splendid victories which seem
to have been won, unless the histories lie, against such
fearful odds, and entirely through the personal valour
I
ALICE OF ANTIOCH. 291
of each individual Christian. The reputation of Fulke
rose high by this victory, and he had time to regulate
some of his domestic matters. First it became
necessary to get a husband for little Constance of
Antioch, in order to save himself the care of per-
petually interfering in the troubles caused by Alice. He
could think of no one so suitable as Raymond of
Poitiers. But there were difficulties in the way. Ray-
mond was in England at the court of Henry I. If
deputies were sent publicly, inviting him to Antioch,
Alice would certainly use all her influence with the
Norman princes of Sicily, her late husband's cousins, to
stop him on the way. A double deceit was therefore
practised. Alice was privately informed that Raymond
was sent for to marry her, not her daughter. Raymond
was written to by a special messenger, a Knight
Hospitaller, named Gerard, and ordered to travel to the
East in disguise as a simple pilgrim. These precau-
tions proved successful. Alice, rejoiced at the prospect
of another gallant husband, ceased her intrigues. Ray-
mond arrived safely in Antioch, where Alice and the
patriarch were both waiting for him. And then he
was married without the least delay to Constance, a
little girl of eleven or twelve. The Countess Alice, who
had been deceived up to the very hour of the wedding,
went away to Laodicea, mad with rage and disappoint-
ment, and we hear no more of her. Fulke had check-
mated her.
His next trouble was on account of her sister, his own
wife, Milicent. At a council held in Jerusalem, one
Walter, Count of Csesarea, son-in-law to Hugh, Count
of Jaffa, rose and accused his father-in-law of the
crime of lese-majeste. The accusation was prompted by
the king himself, who had, or thought he had, good
19 — 2
2Q2 JERUSALEM.
reason to be jealous of his wife's relations with Count
Hugh. And accordingly he hated Hugh. The barons
heard the charge, and summoned Hugh to answer it in
person, and to defend his honour en champ clos, against
his accuser. On the appointed day Walter of Csesarea
appeared in arms, but Hugh did not come. Whether
he was guilty, or whether he was unwilling to risk his
honour and life on the chance of a single fight, is un-
certain. He was accordingly judged guilty in default,
and the king marched against him. But Count Hugh
was not so easily put down. He hastened to Ascalon,
and made an alliance, to the horror of all good
Christians, with those hereditary enemies of the
faith, the inhabitants of that town. They joyfully
joined him, and engaged to harass the country while he
defended Jaffa. And then Hugh drew up his bridges,
shut his gates, and sat down in his city, announcing his
determination to hold out to the last. There was no
one in the kingdom with so great a reputation as he
for personal bravery; no one so handsome, no one so
strong, and no one of better birth. Moreover, he was
the cousin-german to the queen, which gave him a
reason, or at least a pretext, for visiting her frequently
and privately.
But it could not be endured that civil war should
rage so close to the very capital of the realm, and
negotiations were entered into between the contending
parties. Finally it was agreed that Hugh should put
away his unnatural alliance with the Saracens, and
should so far acknowledge the sentence of the barons
by an exile of three years. Hugh repaired to Jerusalem
with the king, where he waited till the preparations for
his departure should be completed. One day, while he
was playing dice outside a shop in the street, a Breton
DBA TH OF HUGH. 293
knight stabbed him with a sword, and Hugh fell
apparently dead. He was not dead, however, and was
ultimately cured of his wounds, but died in Sicily
before the term of his exile was completed. Every-
body thought that King Fulke had ordered the
assassination, but the murderer stoutly declared, in the
midst of the keenest tortures, that he had no accom-
plices, and that he had acted solely in what he thought
obedience to the will of Heaven. Fulke ordered his
limbs to be broken and cut off one after the other, all
but his tongue, which was left free in order that full
confession might be made. Queen Milicent's resent-
ment pursued those who had compassed the exile of
Ker lover. All who had been concerned in it went in
terror and peril, knowing, ' furens quid foemina possit ;'
and even the king found it prudent to make peace
with his wife, and henceforth, even if he should be
jealous, to conceal that passion as much as possible.
But the count died in Sicily, and the queen's resent-
ment died with him.
There was not, however, very much more glory await-
ing the much- troubled Fulke. Pons, Count of Tripoli,
was taken prisoner by the Damascenes, and being
recognised by certain Syrians, living in Lebanon, was
put to death. Evidently the historian is wrong here, as
the time was quite gone by for putting illustrious
prisoners to death. There must have been some special
reason for this barbarity. However, his son Raymond
believed the story, and in order to avenge his death
marched a force to the mountains and brought back to
Tripoli, loaded with irons, all those whom he could
catch, as accessories to the death of his father. There,
in presence of all the people, the poor creatures, who
appear to have done nothing at all, were put to death
294 JERUSALEM.
with different kinds of tortures, all the most cruel, * in
just punishment of their enormous crimes.'
And now the misfortunes of the Christian kingdom
began fairly to set in. The emperor John Comnenus,
son of Alexis, was marching across Asia Minor with
the intention of renewing his father's claims on Antioch.
Raymond sent hurriedly to the king for assistance.
Fulke went northwards again. He arrived in time to
hear that Zanghi was again on Christian soil, ravaging
and pillaging. He went to meet him, and the Chris-
tian army was completely and terribly defeated. Fulke
took refuge in the fortress of Montferrand. Raymond
of Tripoli was made prisoner. In this juncture an
appeal was made to Jocelyn of Edessa and Raymond
of Antioch to come to their assistance, and the Patri-
arch of Jerusalem was ordered to muster every man he
could find.
It was the most critical moment in the history of the
kingdom. Fortunately John Comnenus was too wise
to desire the destruction of the Latin Christians, and
he contented himself with the homage of Raymond of
Antioch, and came to their assistance. But the Franks
quarrelled with the Greeks, and were suspicious of their
motives. John retired in disgust with his allies ; a year
afterwards he came back again ; was insulted by the
people of Antioch ; was actually refused permission to
go as a pilgrim to Jerusalem, except in disguise, and was
killed by a poisoned arrow, very likely by a Frank. Thus
the Latins lost all hope of succour from Constantinople,
at a time when succour from some quarter was neces-
sary to their very existence, when the old ardour of
crusading which had kept their ranks full was dying
out in Europe, and when their chiefs, the children of
the old princes, were spending their days in slothful
THIERRY OF FLANDERS. 295
luxury, careless of glory, and anxious only for peace
and feasting.
Fulke's own son-in-law, Thierry of Flanders, arriving
at this time with a large following, the king made use of
his men to go across the Jordan and clear away a nest of
brigands which had been established in certain caverns
on a mountain-side. While they were occupied in the
regular siege of this place, the Turks took advantage
of their absence, and made a predatory incursion into
the south of Palestine, taking and plundering the little
town of Tekoa. Robert, Grand Master of the Temp-
lars, went in hot haste against them. They fled at his
approach ; but the Christians, instead of keeping
together and following up the victory, dispersed all
over the plain. The Turks rallied, and forming small de-
tachments, turned upon their pursuers and slaughtered
nearly all of them. Among those who were killed was
the famous Templar, Odo of Montfaucon. Fulke was
sore afflicted by the news of this disaster, but persevered
in the siege, and had at least the satisfaction of de-
stroying his robbers.
One more military expedition King Fulke was to
make. Allied with the Emir of Damascus, he laid
siege to the town of Baucas, which Zanghi had taken.
The legate of the pope, Alberic of Ostia, was with the
army, and exhorted them to courage and perseverance.
After an obstinate resistance, the town capitulated on
honourable terms.
The legate had come from Rome to act as judge be-
tween the Patriarch of Antioch and the bishops. It is
not easy to make out how these quarrels arose, nor is it
edifying to relate the progress of squabbles which were
chiefly ecclesiastical. Alberic of Ostia had been recalled,
and a new legate, Peter, Archbishop of Lyons, sent out
296 JERUSALEM.
in his stead. The charges against the patriarch were
chiefly that he refused to submit to Rome. William of
Tyre gives the whole story of the trial and consequent
deposition of the patriarch. He was taken to a monas-
tery as a prisoner, and kept there for some time, but
succeeded in escaping to Rome, where he pleaded his
own cause, and was on the point of being reinstated,
when he died of poison.
In the last year of King Fulke three important
fortresses were built, that of Kerak in Moab, that of
Ibelin, and that of Tell es Safiyeh. The fortress of
Ibelin, about ten miles from Ascalon, was on the
traditional site of Gath. The citadel built on Tell es
Safiyeh, about eight miles from Ascalon, and called
Blanchegarde, was made the strongest place in Pales-
tine, and played an important part in the subsequent
wars.
One day in 1144, Fulke, walking with the queen in
the neighbourhood of Acre, put up a hare in the grass.
Calling for a horse and a lance, he rode after it ; and
the horse falling, brought him down with such violence
that he fractured his skull. He lingered four days in a
state of insensibility, and then died, leaving two sons,
aged thirteen and seven years respectively, by his wife
Milicent.
GENEALOGY OF FULKE.
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E
CHAPTER XL
KING BALDWIN III. AND THE SECOND GREAT CRUSADE.
A.D. II44 — Il62.
' Seigneurs, je m'en voiz outre mer, et je ne scais se je revendre\
Or venez avant : se je vous ai de riens mesfait, je le vous desferai
l'un par l'autre, si comme je ai accoutume a tous ceulz qui vinront
riens demander ni a moy ni a ma gent.'— Joinville.
' Hitherto,' says William of Tyre, whom we have
been principally following, ' hitherto the events I have
described were related to me by others. All that follows
I have either seen with my own eyes or have heard
from those who actually were present. I hope, there-
fore, with the assistance of God, to be able to relate
the facts that I have yet to put down with greater
accuracy and facility.'
He was a young man when Fulke died, and preserves
in his history that enthusiasm for his successor which
one of his own age would probably entertain, and which
Baldwin's early death, if not his admirable qualities,
prevented from dying out. He writes of him as one
might have written of Charles I., had he died five years
after he came to the throne, or of Louis XIV., had he
finished his reign thirty years earlier.
Baldwin was only thirteen when with his mother,
Milicent, as queen and regent, he was crowned king.
Like his great ancestors, the young king grew up taller
and stronger than the generality of mankind ; his
CORONATION OF BALDWIN. 299
features were firm and undaunted, and a light beard
covered his lips and chin ; he was not ' too fat like his
brother, nor too thin like his mother.' In short, Bald-
win, when he grew up, was a tall and handsome man.
As for his mental qualities, his biographer exhausts
himself in praises. He was prompt to understand ;
eloquent and fluent of speech ; affable in manners ; full
of compassion and tenderness ; endowed with an ex-
cellent memory (in which he must have presented a
pleasing contrast to his father) ; tolerably well educated
— l better, that is, than his brother ' — the biographer's
standard of education is difficult to catch, because he
afterwards tells us of Amaury that he was educated,
' but not so v/ell as his brother ;' he was fond of having
read to him the lives of great kings and the deeds of
valiant knights ; he knew thoroughly the common law
of the realm ; his powers of conversation were great
and charming ; he attached to himself the affections of
everybody high and low. ' And,' says the worthy
bishop, ' what is more rare in persons of his age, is that
he showed all sorts of respect for ecclesiastical institu-
tions, and especially for the Prelates of the Churches.'
Where could a finer king be found ?
If he had a fault it was that he was fond of gaming
and dice. As the greater part of his life was spent on
horseback, it was only occasionally that he could
indulge in this vice. Another fault he had as a
youth which he entirely renounced in later years.
To the credit of King Baldwin it is recorded that he
was, after his marriage, entirely blameless in respect
of women. Now by this time the morals of the
kingdom of Jerusalem were in an extremely bad
way, and the example of the young king could not fail
of producing a great and most beneficial effect.
300 JERUSALEM.
Queen Milicent was an ambitious woman, like her
sister Alice, and had no intention at all of being a
puppet. She accordingly insisted on being crowned
together with her son. The Kings of Jerusalem had
ceased to affect that proud humility which made God-
frey refuse to wear a crown when his Lord had only
worn thorns, and sent Baldwin I. to Bethlehem to be
crowned, as it were, out of sight of the city of Christ's
sufferings. Now the ceremony was held in the very
Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which was the cathedral
of the Christian city. In the king's hands was placed
the sword, with which to defend justice and Holy
Church ; on his finger they put the ring of faith ; on
his head the crown of honour ; in his right hand the
sceptre of authority and the golden apple of sove-
reignty.
Mother and son were crowned together, and the un-
happy state, which wanted the firm hand of a Godfrey,
found itself ruled by a boy and a woman. The barons
began to take sides and form parties. There was no
leader in the councils, none to whom they could look
to as the common head, and if one advanced above the
rest they regarded him with suspicion and envy. Worst
of all, they began to fight with each other. In the
north, Raymond of Antioch and young Jocelyn of
Edessa looked upon each other as enemies, and spent
most of their time in trying to devise means of mutual
annoyance. Jocelyn, who ought to have been occupied |
in organizing means for the defence of his dominions
against the formidable Zanghi, when he was not harry-
ing Raymond, lay inactive at Tellbasher, where he
indulged in his favourite pleasures, hoping to spend
the rest of his life in ignoble ease, looking out upon
the world with those goggle eyes of his, the only
CORONA TION OF BALD WIN. 30 1
feature, and that not a lovely one, recorded of this
prince.
But he was to be rudely shaken from his slumber.
It was in the early winter of 1144, the year of Baldwin's
accession, when news came to him that Zanghi was
before the walls of Edessa with an immense army.
Jocelyn, roused too late, sent everywhere for assistance.
Raymond would not help him ; his own knights re-
proached him with his indolence and apathy, and de-
clared that they would not march to certain death.
Queen Milicent issued orders for the army to move
northwards, which were not obeyed ; and Edessa was
doomed.
Zanghi, finding success almost certain, redoubled his
efforts, and sent for reinforcements in all directions.
He even offered favourable terms of surrender ; but
these were refused. Zanghi's plan of siege was the
ordinary one, quietly to undermine the towers, propping
up the earth as it was removed with timber. When
the proper time arrived, the timber would be set fire
to, and of course the tower would fall. The Latin
archbishop, who appears to have been in command,
would hear of no surrender, and exhorted the people
daily, holding forth the promise of the crown of
martyrdom. But on the twenty-second day of the
siege the towers which had been undermined fell with
a crash, and the enemy poured in. The first thought
of the people was to fly for shelter to the citadel. Many
were crushed or trampled to death in the attempt,
among whom was Archbishop Hugh, who had been
storing up gold, and now tried to carry it into the
citadel. The weight of his treasure helped to bear
him down. The enemy were before them at the gates
of the citadel, and the slaughter of the helpless people
5 o2 JERUSALEM.
commenced, with all the horrors usual after a siege.
Islam was triumphant ; Christendom in despair.
But Zanghi died next year, being assassinated by his
own slaves, and a lively joy was diffused throughout
Palestine. ' A certain Christian,' says William of Tyre,
with admirable modesty, for, of course, he was him-
self the accomplished poet, directly he heard of this
event, delivered himself of the following melodious
impromptu :*
' Quam bonus eventus ! fit sanguine sanguinolentus
Vir homicida, reus, nomine sanguineus.'
King Baldwin won his spurs while yet a boy, first by
a short and successful expedition beyond the Jordan,
and next by his Quixotic attempt on the town of
Bozrah, in the Hauran. It was an attempt undertaken
in haste and without reflection, and doomed from the
outset to failure. A certain Armenian, governor of the
town, influenced probably by some private motives of
revenge, came to Jerusalem and offered to put the
town in the hands of the Christians, if they wished to
have it. There was still lingering, in spite of the fall of
Edessa, some remains of the old spirit of conquest,
and, regardless of the dangers which hovered round
the kingdom, and of the pressing necessity for con-
solidating all their strength for purposes of defence,
the Christians tumultuously demanded to be led to the
attack, and an army was called together. Baldwin
went with them. The troops assembled in the north
and started full of vainglorious confidence. On the
second day they found themselves surrounded with
clouds of enemies, who assailed them with showers of
darts. The country was a desert ; as the only means
* The chroniclers wrote his name Sanguin.
EXPEDITION TO BOZRAH. 303
of getting water, the people had formed artificial
cisterns, in which the winter rains were stored. But
they were filled with dead bodies of locusts, and
the water was too bad even for men parched with
thirst. The Christians struggled on. They arrived at
Edrei. Here, at least, they would get water. But at
Edrei as well the water was all stored in large cisterns.
They let down buckets by ropes : men hidden below
cut the ropes. For four days they pressed on, how-
ever, while the enemy were reinforced hourly, and by
day and night a continuous hail-storm of arrows and
projectiles was showered into the camp, so that
neither man nor beast among the Christians escaped
without some wound. On the fourth day, they were
cheered by the sight of the town of Bozrah, and by
the discovery of certain small rills of water, which
they fought for, and won at the cost of many lives.
But in the dead of night a messenger of very evil
tidings came into the camp. The wife of the Armenian
had refused to be a partner in her husband's treachery:
the enemy occupied the city in force, and all hope was
to be given over of taking it by storm. Then the
Christians despaired. Some of them advised the king
to mount the fleetest horse — that of John Gomain — in
the camp, and make his way back alone, so that at
least his life might have a chance of being saved.
But Baldwin, brave boy that he was, refused. He had
not had the stories of valiant knights read to him for
nothing. He would remain with his army and share
their fate. At break of day the camp was broken up
and the retreat commenced. Orders were given to lay
the dead and the wounded, as they fell, on the beasts of
burden, so that the enemy might not know the havoc
they were making, and then, for Nur-ed-din was
304 JERUSALEM.
already on the alert, they started on their disastrous
and melancholy retreat. The heat was oppressive ;
there was no water; clouds of dust hung over the
little army ; clouds of Saracens rode round them firing
arrows into their midst. And yet the Christians moved
on in good order. More wonderful still, there was not
a single dead body behind them. Were they, then, pro-
tected by some unknown power ? The Saracens
hesitated. Thinking that their arrows had no effect,
and ignorant of the ghastly load under which the
camels were groaning, they tried another method. The
whole country was covered with dry bushes and grass.
They therefore made a prairie fire, and the wind blew
the flames and smoke directly upon the Christians.
And then the people turned to Archbishop Robert of
Nazareth, who bore the Holy Cross : * Pray for us,
father,' they cried, 'pray for us in the name of the wood
of the Cross that you bear in your hands, for we can
no longer bear our sufferings.' It was high time that
Robert should pray : the faces and hands of the army
were blackened with smoke and dust ; * they were like
blacksmiths working at the forge :' their throats were
dry with heat and thirst.
The archbishop prayed, and at his prayer the wind
shifted, and the flames were blown towards the enemy.
Then the Christians resolved to send a messenger to
the Saracens. They chose a knight who had been sus-
pected of treachery, but they had no other choice,
because he alone spoke the language of the enemy.
They asked him if he would faithfully perform his
mission. ' I am suspected,' he said, ' unjustly. I will
go where you wish me. If I am guilty of the crime
you impute to me, may I never return — may I perish
by the enemy's weapons !' He went, but before he
RETURN OF THE ARMY. 305
had gone far the poor wretch fell dead, pierced by a
hundred arrows.
Then the Christians pressed on. Arrived near
Damascus, the Emir of that city sent a messenger to
them. If they would halt, he would feed and entertain
them all. Worn, thirsty, and wearied as they were,
they suspected his good faith, and hurried on. In
after-times it was related that a knight, whom none had
seen before, appeared every morning at the head of the
army, guided them during the day by roads unknown
to the enemy, and disappeared at night. Doubtless,
St. George. We have said before that the time for
saints' help ended with Godfrey. A saint appears
again, it is true, but with how great a change ! The last
time St. George, fought for the Christians, he led them
on to victory after victory. Now he shows them the
only way by which, broken down and utterly beaten,
they can escape with their lives.
There was great rejoicing in Jerusalem when the
remnant of the army, with the young king, came back.
Those who had been wont to sing psalms for the
defeat of the enemy, sang them now for the safe
return of the defeated king. ' This our son,' they
chanted, ' was dead, and is alive again : he was lost,
and is found.'
After the death of Zanghi, who had repeopled the
city of Edessa, the ill-advised Jocelyn instigated the
people to revolt against their new masters. All the
Turks in the place were put to death, and Jocelyn,
once more reinstated in the city of his father, sent
'; messengers in all directions, asking for help. No help
came, for it was impossible that anyone should send
help. Nur-ed-din came to the town with ten thousand
men before Jocelyn had held it for a week. He vowed
20
I
306 JERUSALEM.
to exterminate the Christians, and these were too few
in number to make any resistance. They threw open
the gates, and all sallied forth together, with the
resolution to fight their way through the beleaguer-
ing army. Jocelyn got through, and, with a few
knights, reached Samosata in safety. The rest of the
people were all massacred.
Some years after this, Jocelyn himself was taken
prisoner, and spent the rest of his life, nine years, in
captivity, far enough removed from any chance of in-
dulging in those vices which had ruined him, and
perilled the realm. It was a fitting end to a career
which might have been glorious, if glory is a thing to
desire ; which might have assured the safety of the
Latin kingdom, if, which is a thing to be questioned,
the Latin kingdom was now worth saving.
And now hostilities on both sides seem to have been
for a time suspended, for the news reached the East
how another Crusade had been preached in the West,
and gigantic armies were already moving eastwards to
protect the realm, and reconquer the places which had
been lost. Signs, too were not wanting which, though
they might be interpreted to signify disaster, could yet
be read the other way. A comet, for instance ; this
might portend evil for the Saracens — Heaven grant it
was intended to strike terror into their hearts ! But
what could be said of the lightning which struck, of all
places in the world, the very Church of the Holy
Sepulchre itself? Nothing but the anger of God could
be inferred from a manifestation so clear, and the
hearts of all were filled with terror and forebodings.
The details of the second Crusade, as it is called,
unhappily resemble those of the first. It is not neces-
sary that we should do more than follow the leading
SECOND CRUSADE. 307
incidents which preceded the arrival of the soldiers —
all who were left — in Palestine.
It was exactly fifty years since Peter the Hermit
went through France telling of the indignities offered
to the pilgrims, and the sufferings of the faithful. But
in fifty years a vast change had come over the West.
Knowledge had taken the place of ignorance. No fear
now that the rude soldiery would ask, as every fresh
town rose before their eyes, if that was Jerusalem.
There was not a village in the West, whither some old
Crusader had not returned to tell of the long march,
the frightful sufferings on the way, the obstinacy of the
enemy, the death of his friends. From sea to sea, in
France at least, the East seemed as well known as the
West, for from every province someone had gone forth
to become a great man in Palestine. Fulke from
Anjou, Godfrey from Lorraine, Raymond from Toulouse,
another Raymond from Poitou, Robert from Nor-
mandy, another Robert from Flanders, Hugh le Grand
from Paris, Stephen from Blois, and fifty others, whose
name and fame were spread far and wide in their native
places, so that men knew now what lay before them
They went, if they went at all, to fight, and defend, not
to conquer. The city was Christian ; but there was
plunder and glory to be got by fighting beyond the city.
Bernard proclaimed the Crusade. He preached the
necessity of going to the assistance of a kingdom dear
to all Christian eyes, now visibly tottering to its fall.
j He called attention to the universal corruption of
morals, which he declared to be worse than any state
of things ever known before. To the preacher, the
state of morals is always the worst ever known. Had
Bernard, for instance, lived in the present day !
He forbore from promising easy conquests and
20 — 2
3o8 JERUSALEM.
victories where all the blood would be that of the
infidel ; on the contrary, he told the people that the
penances inflicted by God Himself for their sins were
the clash of arms, the fatigues and dangers of war, the
hard fighting and physical suffering of a campaign
under the sun of Syria ; and, which is very significant,
he appears to have invoked a curse upon all who
refused to obey the summons and follow to the Holy
War.
The first Crusaders set off with light and buoyant
hearts. They were marching, they thought, to certain
conquest ; the walls would fall down before them ; it
was a privilege and a sacred pleasure to have taken
the sign of the Cross. The second army started with
gloomy forebodings of misery and suffering ; they were
going on a penitential journey ; they were about to
encounter perils which they knew to be terrible, an
enemy whom they knew to be countless as the sands
of their own deserts, not because they wanted to fight,
but because Bernard, who could not err, told them
that God Himself laid this penance on their shoulders.
Every step that brought Peter's rough and rude army
nearer to Constantinople was a step of pleasure ; every
step that the second army took was an addition to the
penance imposed by this importunate preacher. The
most penitential of all was the young king, Louis VII. of
France, upon whose conscience there lay the terrible
crime of having burned the church at Vitry ; for in the
church, which he had fired himself, were thirteen hun-
dred men, women, and children, who were all burned
with it. The king would fain have saved them, but
could not, and when he saw their blackened and half-
burned bodies his soul was sick within him for remorse
and sorrow. It was a calamity — for which, however,
SECOND CRUSADE. 309
the king was not, perhaps, wholly responsible — worse
than that modern burning of the women of Santiago.
On the way through Germany, to be sure, they were
happily enabled to expiate some small part of their sins
by murdering the Jews — a cheap and even profitable way
of purifying the troubled conscience, because they plun-
dered as well as murdered them. Bernard, to his
infinite credit, stayed the hand of persecution, and
showed the people that this was not, hateful as a Jew
must always be to a Christian, the way pointed out by
Heaven. The preaching of Bernard was seconded by
the exhortations of the poets, who united in singing
the praises of those who take the Cross, and in de-
nouncing those who refused. ' Rise,' says one bard,
' Rise, ye who love with loyal heart ;
Awake, nor sleep the hours away :
Now doth the darksome night depart,
And now the lark leads in the day :
Hear how he sings with joyous strain
The morn of peace which God doth give
To those who heed nor scathe nor pain ;
Who dare in peril still to live ;
Who, night or day, no rest may ta^e,
But bear the Cross for Christ's own sake. 5
The Crusade consisted wholly of Germans and
French. The former went first, headed by Conrad,
King of the Romans, who left his son Henry in charge
of his dominions. They got through the Greek
emperor's dominions with some difficulty, being unruly
and little amenable to discipline, but were at last safely
conveyed across the straits to Asia Minor, where they
ought to have awaited the arrival of King Louis, but
unfortunately did not.
In France an enormous army had been collected by
help of the old cry of ' Dieu le veut,' the magic of
I which had not yet died out; there must have been
JERUSALEM.
men, not very old, who remembered the preaching of
Peter, and the frantic cries with which the Cross was
demanded after one of his fiery harangues. Bernard
wrote to the pope, with monkish exaggeration, that
' the villages and the castles are deserted, and one sees
none but widows and orphans whose husbands and
fathers are yet living.' Most of them, alas ! were to
remain widows and orphans indeed, for the husbands
and fathers were never destined to return. And, as in
the first Crusade, many of those who joined ruined
themselves in procuring the arms and money necessary
for their outfit. The Church, as before, kindly came
to their assistance by buying their lands of them at a
nominal value.
The gravest mistake was that made at the very out-
set, when the barons were permitted to take with them
their wives. Queen Eleanor, who afterwards married
our Henry II., went with her husband, accompanied
by a great number of ladies, and the presence of large
numbers of women in the camp caused grave disorder,
and subsequently great peril, both to the French and
German armies.
It was in the early winter of 1147 that the Crusaders
crossed the Hellespont. Without waiting for the
French, the Germans, divided into two bodies, had
pushed on. They reckoned on the friendship of the
Greeks, but they were grievously disappointed. Extra-
vagant prices were demanded for the most inferior
food ; lime was put into the bread, which killed many ;
the Turcopoles hovered about and cut off the supplies ; i
but, in spite of these obstacles, a portion of the army,
under the Bishop of Freisingen, managed to reach
Syria. As for the larger part, under Conrad, they were
guided as far as Dorylaeum, where the first Crusaders
SECOND CRUSADE. 311
had so hard a battle. Here the guides ran away, and
the Turks fell upon them. The army consisted of
seventy thousand horse, and a vast multitude of foot-
soldiers, of women, and of children. About seven
thousand horse escaped with King Conrad. All the
rest were slaughtered. No greater calamity had ever
happened to the Christian arms. Conrad got back to
Nicaea, where Louis, who had just arrived, was en-
camped. The French resolved to take the way by the
seashore. We need not follow through all the perils
of their march. They fought their way to Ephesus ;
thence, crossing the Mseander, they came to a place
called Satalia, at the western extremity of Cilicia ; and
here Louis left them, and went by sea to Antioch. The
plague broke out among the troops ; the Greeks refused
them any help, which they got from the very Turks
whom they came to fight ; and finally, out of the hun-
dreds of thousands who had left the West a year before,
a few thousands only struggled into Syria. Of all the
unfortunate women who went with them, their wives
and mistresses, not one got to Palestine, save only
Queen Eleanor and her suite.
Raymond of Antioch was the cousin of Eleanor. He
welcomed Louis and his queen to his little court, and
immediately began to cast about for some way of making
their expedition to Palestine serviceable to himself. It
was the way of all these Syrian knights and barons.
Every man looked to himself and to his own interests ;
no man cared about the general interest. Jocelyn of
Edessa, who was not yet put into prison, Pons of
Tripoli, Raymond of Antioch, all hoped to catch the
great kings of the West on their way to Jerusalem,
and to turn the Crusade into such channels as might
advance their own interests.
312 JERUSALEM.
Suspecting nothing, Louis made a lengthened stay at
Antioch, waiting for the remains of his great army.
Raymond, thinking the best means of getting at the king
was through his consort, employed every means in his
power to amuse Eleanor. She, who had no kind of
sympathy with the piety or remorse of her royal hus-
band, preferred the feastings and amusements of An-
tioch to anything else, and would gladly have protracted
them. But her own conduct and the levity of her
manners caused grievous scandal, and effectually pre-
vented her from having any influence over the king,
who, when pressed to help Raymond, coldly replied
that, before anything else, he must visit the holy places.
Raymond, who had succeeded in pleasing the queen,
if he had not won her heart, by way of revenge, per-
suaded Eleanor to announce her intention of getting
divorced from the king on the ground of consanguinity,
while Raymond declared that he would keep her, by
force, if necessary, at his court. Louis took counsel of
his followers, and by their advice carried off his queen
by night, and made the best of his way to Tripoli, where
he was met by an emissary of Queen Milicent, who was
afraid he would be drawn into some enterprise by the
count, urging him to come straight on to Jerusalem.
In June, 1148, a great council of the assembled kings
and chiefs was held at Acre. At this meeting were
present King Baldwin, Queen Milicent, the Patriarch
of Jerusalem, the barons of the kingdom, and the
Grand Masters of the two great orders of the Temple
and St. John, on behalf of the Christian kingdom ;
while the Crusaders were represented by Kings Conrad
and Louis, Otto Bishop of Freisingen, brother of
Conrad, Frederick (afterwards Barbarossa), his nephew,
the Marquis of Montferrat, Cardinal Guy of Florence,
COUNCIL AT A CRE. 3 1 3
Count Thierry of Flanders, and many other noble
lords. Only it was remarked, by those who were
anxious for the future, that the Counts of Tripoli,
Edessa, and Antioch were not present, while it was
ominous that Eleanor of France did not take her seat
with the other ladies who were present at the council.
There were several courses open to the Crusaders.
They might retake Edessa, and so establish again that
formidable outpost as a bulwark to the kingdom. They
might strengthen the hands of Raymond, and so make
up for the loss of Edessa. They might take Ascalon,
always a thorn in the side of the realm ; or they might
strike out a new line altogether, and win glory for them-
selves by an entirely new conquest, an exploit of
danger and honour. Most unfortunately, they resolved
upon the last, and determined on taking the city of
Damascus. Such a feat of arms commended itself
naturally to the rough fighting men. They despised
Jocelyn ; they resented the treatment of Raymond ;
and therefore they could not be got to see that to
strengthen the hands of either of these was to strengthen
the power of the Christians, while to conquer new lands
was to increase their weakness and multiply the hatred
and thirst of revenge of their enemies. And with that
want of foresight which always distinguished the Cru-
saders, they followed up their resolution by immediate
action, and started on their new enterprise with the
eagerness of children, in spite of a burning July sun.
The King of Jerusalem marched first, because his men
knew the roads ; next came King Louis, with his
French ; and lastly, the Germans, under Conrad. On
the west side of Damascus lay its famous gardens, and
it was determined first to attack the city from this side.
The paths were narrow, and behind the bushes were
314 JERUSALEM.
men armed with spears, which they poked through at
the invaders as they passed. The brick walls which
hedged in the gardens were perforated, with a similar
object. There was thus a considerable amount of
fighting to be done in dislodging these hidden enemies
before the Christians managed to make themselves
masters of the position. It was done at last, all the
leaders having performed the usual prodigies of
strength and valour — Conrad himself cut a gigantic
Saracen right through the body, so that his head, neck,
shoulder, and left arm fell off together, a clean sweep
indeed — and the Damascenes gave themselves up for
lost. And then happened a very singular and inex-
plicable circumstance. The Christians deliberately
abandoned a position which had cost them so much to
win, and resolved to cross over the river to the other
side, where they were persuaded that the attack would
be much easier. They went across. They found them-
selves without water, without provisions, and in a far
worse position for the siege than before. The Damas-
cenes received reinforcements, closed up the approaches
to the gardens, and quietly waited the course of events.
There was nothing left but to retreat ; and the Chris-
tians, breaking up their camp in the middle of the
night, retreated, or rather fled, in disgrace and con-
fusion. This was the end of the second Crusade.
Why did they leave the gardens ? Many answers,
all pointing to treachery, were given to the question.
Some said that Thierry of Flanders wanted the city,
and because the chiefs would not promise it to him,
preferred seeing it remain in the hands of the enemy,
and so became a traitor. Others told how the Templars
arranged the whole matter for three great casks full of
gold byzants, which, when they were examined, turned
INVA SION OF ANTIOCH. 3 1 5
out to be all copper. Raymond of Antioch, according to
a third story, contrived that false counsels should be
given out of revenge to the king. And so on. Talk
everywhere, treachery somewhere, that was clear, be-
cause treachery was in the Syrian air, and because
knights, and barons, and priests were all alike selfish
and interested, rogues and cheats — all but King Bald-
win. ' Whoever were the traitors,' says the historian,
1 let them learn that sooner or later they shall be
rewarded according to their merits, unless the Lord
deign to extend them His mercy.' He evidently
inclines to the hope that mercy will not be extended to
them.
Disgusted with a people who would not be served,
and wearied of broken promises and faithless hopes, the
chiefs of the Crusade made haste to shake off the dust
of their feet, and to leave the doomed kingdom to its
fate. Some of their men remained behind, a reinforce-
ment which enabled Baldwin to keep up his courage
and show a bold front to the enemy so long as his life
lasted.
Nur-ed-din, directly they were gone, invaded Antioch,
and Raymond was killed in one of the small skirmishes
which took place. At this time, too, Jocelyn of Edessa
fell into the hands of the Turks, and was put into
prison. It was almost impossible for Baldwin to defend
Antioch alone. Nevertheless, he held it manfully, and
it was not till after his time that it was ceded to the
Greeks, who in their turn surrendered it to the Turks.
Tripoli, the count of which town was himself assas-
sinated, remained the only bulwark of the kingdom.
The eyes of Palestine were turned again upon Europe.
But from Europe little help could now be expected.
Louis, returning defeated and inglorious, had been
316 JERUSALEM.
hailed as a conqueror. Medals were struck in his
honour with the lying legend :
1 Regi invicto ab Oriente reduci
Frementes lsetitia cives. '
And, though he promised to lead another Crusade,
his conscience was appeased by his pilgrimage, and
his love of praise was satisfied by the honours he re-
ceived. Therefore he went no more. Moreover, two
new methods of crusading were discovered, nearer
home, and far more profitable. In the north of
Germany lay a large and fertile country, inhabited
wholly by pagans. Why not conquer that, and reduce
so fair a land to Christianity ? And in Spain, so close
at hand for pious Frenchmen, were vast provinces, rich
beyond measure, all in the hands of those very Saracens
whom they were asked to go all the way to Palestine in
order to fight. And then there died both Bernard and
Suger, the sagacious Suger, who saw the disgrace which
had fallen on the Christian arms, and wished to repair
it by sending out another army in place of that which
Louis had madly thrown away.
The boundaries of poor young Baldwin's kingdom
were greatly contracted. Nothing now remained but
what we may call Palestine proper, with a dubious and
tottering hold on a few outlying towns. Fifty years
had been sufficient to turn the sons of the rough and
straightforward soldiers of Godfrey, whose chief fault
seems to have been their ungovernable fits of rage, into
crafty and double-faced Syrians, slothful and sensual,
careless of aught but their own interests, and brave only
when glory, to which they still clung, could be got out
of it. Nor was the kingdom itself free from discord
and variance. Queen Milicent retained her authority,
RESTRICTED BOUNDARIES. 317
nor could she be persuaded to give it up. It was the
most monstrous thing — it shows, however, how the
feudal ideas had become corrupted — that she should
insist on holding part of the realm in her own name.
She did so, however, giving Baldwin Tyre as his prin-
cipal place, and retaining Jerusalem as her own. She
had a following of barons, who preferred, for many
reasons, to be under the rule of a woman. The reins
of government were confided to her own cousin, one
Manasseh, and Baldwin had the mortification of finding
himself, in times of peace — few enough, it is true — only
the second man in a country of which he was the
nominal king. He claimed his rights ; these were
refused. He besieged Manasseh in his castle ; he
even besieged his mother in hers. The patriarch
acted as mediator, and, after long negotiations, a com-
promise was effected, by which Milicent, more fortunate
than her equally ambitious sister Alice of Antioch,
received the city of Nablous to hold as her own for the
rest of her life.
It was during these negotiations, or at their close,
that the king held a great council at Tripoli on the
state of the kingdom. And it was while the council
was sitting that Count Raymond was assassinated — no
one knew at whose instigation, because the murderers
were instantly cut to pieces.
The Turks made an attempt upon the kingdom of
Jerusalem itself, and while the knights were gone to
defend Nablous, they encamped on the Mount of Olives.
Then the people of Jerusalem went out, as full of
courage as Gideon's three hundred, and drove them off
with great slaughter. Their success — success was now
so rare — raised the spirits of all the Christians, and the
king resolved to follow it up by laying siege to that old
318 JERUSALEM.
enemy of Christendom, Ascalon, which was to Jeru-
salem even as the mound which Diabolus raised up
against the city of Mansoul in Bunyan's allegory. It
was in 1153 that this strong place, which ought to have
been in the hands of the Christians fifty years before,
had it not been for Christian jealousy and treachery,
fell at last. Baldwin marched against it with all the
forces he could command. A fleet watched the port
from the sea, while the siege was hurried on by land.
Every ship that brought pilgrims was ordered to pro-
ceed southwards, and the pilgrims were pressed into
the service. Nevertheless, the work went on slowly,
and after more than four months, reinforcements were
received from Egypt, and the besieged were as con-
fident as ever. Accident gave the Christians the town.
They had a movable tower, higher than the walls, with
which they were able to annoy the enemy almost with
impunity. One day, when it was laid alongside the
wall, the besieged threw a vast quantity of wood, on
which they poured oil and sulphur, between the ram-
parts and the town. This they set fire to ; but, unfor-
tunately for themselves, without first considering which
way the wind was blowing. It was a strong east wind,
and the flames were blown towards the walls. They
blazed all day and all night, and when they ceased, at
length, the stones were calcined, and that portion of
the wall about the fire fell down. The Christians
wanted nothing more. At daybreak the soldiers
were awakened by hearing a loud crash, and rushed
towards the spot. They were too late. The Templars
were already crowding in at the breach, and, in
order to get all the plunder for themselves, these chivalrous
knights stationed men to prevent the army from follow-
ing them.
TAKING OF A SCALON. 3 1 9
4 Non habet eventus sordida ptaeda bonos,'
remarks the historian. Their cupidity proved the death
of a great many of their body, for they were too few to
carry everything before them, as they had hoped.
Forty Templars perished in this attack, and the rest
were not able to get in at all, for the people drove them
back, and in an incredibly short time fortified the
broken wall with great beams of timber; and then,
safe for a time behind their rampart, they tied ropes to
the corpses of the knights, and dangled them up and
down outside the wall, to the indignation of the Chris-
tians. After deliberation, confession, and a grand
mass, a general assault was ordered, and for a whole
day hand-to-hand fighting was carried on. And then
the city yielded, and obtained fair terms. Provided
they evacuated the town within three days, their lives
were to be spared. And at last, in delusive imitation of
the glories which were never to return again to the
Christian arms, the standard of the Cross floated from
the towers of Ascalon, the ' Bride of Syria.' The un-
fortunate people, with their wives and children, made
what haste they could to get ready, and in two days had
all left their city, carrying with them all their portable
goods. The king honourably kept his word with them,
and gave them guides to conduct them to Egypt across
the desert. All went well so long as their guides were
with them. But these left them after a time, and gave
them over to a certain Turk, who had been with them in
Ascalon — ' valiant in war, but a perverse man, and
without loyalty ' — on his promise to conduct them
safely to Egypt. But on the way he and his men fell
Dn them, robbed them of all their treasures, and went
away — whither, history sayeth not — leaving them to
wander helplessly up and down the desert. And so
320 JERUSALEM.
the poor creatures all perished. It is a pity that we
cannot ascertain what became of the admirable Turk
who knew so well how to seize an opportunity.
During the siege of Ascalon, the Lady Constance of
Antioch, whom the king had been anxious to see
married for a long time, chose, to everybody's astonish-
ment, a simple knight, one Renaud de Chatillon, as
her husband. The king, anxious above all that a
man should be at the head of Antioch, consented at
once, and Renaud, of whom we shall have more to
say, wedded the fair widow. Although the king ap-
proved of the marriage, it appeared that the Patriarch
of Antioch did not, and trusting to the sacredness of
his person went about the city spreading all sorts of
stories about the fortunate young bridegroom. Renaud
dissembled his resentment, and invited him to the
citadel, and then, by way of giving the reverend bishop
a lesson as to the punishment due to calumniators, set
him in the sun all day, with his bald head covered with
honey, to attract the wasps. After this diabolical
audacity, as William of Tyre calls it, there was nothing
left for the patriarch but to pack up and get away to
Jerusalem as fast as he could. The king reprimanded
Renaud, but too late, for the mischief was done, and
the head of the prelate already painfully stung.
Internal troubles occupied the king for the next year
or two. These were caused by the quarrels between
the two military orders and the Church of Jerusalem.
We hear only one side of the story, which throws the
whole blame upon the knights. Most likely the clergy
were also in some way to blame. By special permission
of the pope, no interdict or excommunication could
touch the Knights of St. John or the Knights Templars.
They were free from all episcopal jurisdiction, and
DISSENSION. 32i
subject only to the pope. It pleased Raymond, Grand
Master of the Hospitallers, for no reason given by the
chronicler, to raise up all sorts of troubles against the
Patriarch of Jerusalem and the prelates of the Church,
on the subject of parochial jurisdiction and the tithes.
The way they showed their enmity is very suggestive of
many things. ' All those whom the bishops had ex-
communicated, or interdicted, were freely welcomed by
the Hospitallers, and admitted to the celebration of the
divine offices. If they were ill, the brothers gave them
the viaticum and extreme unction, and those who died
received sepulture. If it happened that for some
enormous crime' — probably the withholding of tithes —
1 the churches of the city were put under interdict, the
Hospitallers, ringing all their bells, and making a great
clamouring, called the people to their own chapels, and
received the oblations themselves ; and as for their priests,
they took them without any reference whatever to
the bishops.' Obviously, therefore, the quarrel was
entirely an ecclesiastical squabble, due to the desire of
the Church to aggrandize and preserve its power. The
knights, ecclesia in ecclesid, a church within a church,
would not recognise in any way the authority of the
patriarch. For this they had a special charter from the
pope. And they would not pay tithes, and they were
constantly acquiring new territories. We may have
very little doubt that it was the question of tithes
on the knights 1 lands which caused all the quarrel.
But it is very remarkable to note the way in which the
historian speaks of interdicts and excommunications.
In the West an interdict was a great and solemn
thing. In England only one interdict, at the memory
of which the people shuddered for many years to come,
was ever laid upon the country, while, though English
21
322 JERUSALEM.
kings have been excommunicated, it has happened
rarely. In Palestine the custom of debarring offenders,
whether towns or individuals, from the privileges of the
Church is spoken of as quite a common practice. The
thing, evidently, was often happening. The patriarch
was handy with his interdicts, and it must have galled
him to the very soul to find that the people cared
nothing for them, because they could get their consola-
tions of the Church just as well from the knights.
One cannot, however, defend the manner in which
the knights vexed the heart of the patriarch in other
ways. For whenever he went to the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre, the knights, who had a great building
opposite (in what is now called the Muristan), began to
ring all their bells at once, and made so great a noise
that he could not be heard. And once, though one can
hardly believe this, they went to the doors of the
church and shot arrows at the people who were praying.
Probably they pretended to shoot them in order to
frighten the priest. Such a practical joke, and its effect
in the skurrying away of people and priests, would
be quite in accordance with the spirit of the times.
The patriarch, though now nearly a hundred years of
age, went himself to Rome, but got no satisfaction.
He had with him six bishops and a band of lawyers to
plead his cause; but he was badly received by the pope
and badly treated by the cardinals. And after being
put off from day to day, finding that he could get no
redress, he retired in shame and confusion, and probably
patched up some sort of peace with his enemies
the knights.
And now followed a sort of lull before the storm,
three or four years of actual peace and internal pros-
perity. Renaud de Chatillon disgraced the cause of
BALDWIN'S CRIME. 323
Christianity by an unprovoked attack upon the Isle
of Cyprus, which he overran from end to end, murder-
ing, pillaging, and committing every kind of outrage.
Nur-ed-din made himself master of Damascus, an
event which more than counterbalanced the loss of
Ascalon. And Baldwin committed the only crime
which history can allege against him. For he had
given permission to certain Turcomans and Arabs to
feed their cattle on the slopes of Libanus. Here, for a
time, they lived peaceably, harming none and being
harmed by none. But the king was loaded with debts
which he could not pay. Someone in an evil hour
suggested to him an attack upon this pastoral people.
It is the story of Laish over again ; the poor herds-
men lived quiet and secure, thinking of no danger.
Taking with him a few knights, the king went himself
and overran the country sword in hand. Some of the
people escaped by flight, leaving their flocks and herds
behind ; some buried themselves in the forests ; some
were made slaves ; and some were mercilessly
slaughtered. The booty in cattle and horses was
immense, and Baldwin found, by this act of iniquity,
a means of paying off, at least, the most pressing of
his creditors. But his subsequent misfortunes were
attributed to this dreadful act of perfidy, the worst
which a Christian King of Jerusalem had as yet dis-
played.
Nur-ed-din laid siege to the castle of Banias, into
which Count Humphrey had introduced the knights of
St. John on conditions of their sharing in the defence.
Baldwin went to its assistance. Nur-ed-din raised the
siege and retired. The king, seeing no use in staying
any longer, began his southward march. They en-
camped the first night near the lake Huleh, where they
21 — 2
324 JERUSALEM.
lay without proper guards, believing the enemy to be
far enough away. The king's own bodyguard had left
him, and some of the barons had left the army
altogether, followed by their own men. In the morning
the enemy fell upon them all straggling about the
country. Baldwin retreated to a hilltop with half a
dozen men, and gained in safety the fortress of Safed.
And then the historian adds a sentence which shows
how utterly rotten and corrupt was this kingdom,
founded by the brave arms of Godfrey and his knights.
* There was very little slaughter, because everybody,
not only those who were renowned for their wisdom
and their experience in war, but also the simple
soldiers, eager to save their miserable lives, gave
themselves up without resistance to the enemy like
vile slaves, feeling no horror for a shameful servitude,
and not dreading the ignominy which attaches to this
conduct.'
Is it possible to imagine a knight of the First
Crusade, or even a simple soldier, preferring to
surrender at once than to risk the chance of life in
the battle ? And when the news came south, which
happened soon enough, instead of flying to arms, the
men flew to the altars, chanting the psalm, ' Domine,
salvum fac regem.'
Fortunately one of the little crusades, consisting
of a fleet and a few thousand men, arrived at this
juncture, headed by Stephen, Count of Perche. Baldwin
welcomed them with delight, and made the best use of
them, defeated by their help the Saracens at every
point in the county of Tripoli and the principality of
Antioch, aad lastly gave the Damascenes the most
complete defeat they had ever experienced. It must
always be remembered that it was by such windfalls
DEATH OF MI LI CENT. 325
and adventitious aids as these that the kingdom of
Jerusalem was maintained. The pilgrims who came to
pray fought in the intervals of prayer ; a small per-
centage of them always remained in the country and
attached themselves to the fortunes of king or baron.
When the influx of pilgrims was great, the new blood
kept up the stamina, physical as well as moral, of the
Syrian Christians ; when the influx was small the king
had to depend upon the pidlani, the Syrians born, the
Creoles of the country, who were weedy, false, and
cowardly like those knights and soldiers who sur-
rendered, rather than strike a blow for their lives, to
Nur-ed-din.
In 1160 died Queen Milicent. Against her moral
character, since the scandal about Hugh of Jaffa, no
word had been breathed. But she was ambitious,
crafty, and intriguing, like her sisters, not one of whom
lived happily with her husband. She founded a convent
on the Mount of Olives, in return for which the eccle-
siastical biographers, as is their wont, are loud in their
praises of her. Her youngest sister was made its first
abbess. She died of some mysterious malady, for
which no cure could be found. Her memory failed,
and her limbs were already long dead when she
breathed her last. No one was allowed to go into the
room where she lay save a very few, including her two
sisters, the Countess of Tripoli, widow of Raymond,
and the Abbess of Saint Lazarus of Bethany. Probably
the disease she suffered from was that which broke out
in her grandson, Baldwin IV., leprosy. The year before
her death the king had contracted a splendid marriage,
advantageous from every point of view. He married
Theodora, niece to the Emperor of Constantinople.
The new queen was only thirteen : she was singularly
326 JERUSALEM.
beautiful, and brought, which was of more importance,
a large dowry in ready money. Baldwin was passion-
ately fond of his young bride, and from the moment of
his marriage gave up all those follies of which he had
been guilty before. But he had a very short period of
this new and better life. Renaud de Chatillon, who
had made his peace with the emperor, by means of the
most abject and humiliating submissions, got into
trouble again, and was taken prisoner by the Moham-
medans. Baldwin, affairs in the north falling into con-
fusion in consequence of this accident, went to aid in
driving back the enemy. Here he was seized with
dysentery and fever, diseases common enough in the
Syrian climate. His physician, one Barak, an Arab,
gave him pills, of which he was to take some immedi-
ately, the rest by degrees. But the pills did not help
him, and he grew worse and worse. They said he was
poisoned. Some of the pills were given to a dog,
which died after taking them — the story, is, however,
only told from hearsay, and is probably false. He was
brought to Beyrout, where he languished for a few
days and then died, in his thirty-third year, leaving no
children.
Great was the mourning of the people. Other kings
had been more powerful in war ; none had been braver.
Other kings had been more successful; none had so well
deserved success. And while his predecessors, one and
all, were strangers in the land, Baldwin III. was born
and brought up among them all ; he knew them all by
name, and was courteous and affable to all. In those
degenerate days he was almost the only man in the
kingdom whose word could be trusted ; moreover, he
was young, handsome, bright, and generous. The only
faults he had were faults common to youth, while from
DEATH OF BALDWIN. 327
those which most degrade a man in other men's eyes,
gluttony and intemperance, he was entirely free. Even
the Saracens loved this free-handed chivalrous prince,
and mourned for him. When someone proposed to
Nur-ed-din to take advantage of the confusion in the
country and invade it, he refused, with that stately
courtesy which distinguished even the least of the
Saracen princes. ' Let us/ said he, ' have compassion
and indulgence for a grief so just, since the Christians
have lost a prince so great that the world possesses not
his equal.'
The wiseacres remembered how, when he stood god-
father to his brother's infant son, he gave him his own
name, and on being asked what else he would give him,
' I will give him,' said the king, with his ready laugh —
it was his laugh which the people loved — ' I will give
him the kingdom of Jerusalem.' The gossips had
shaken their heads over words so ominous, and now,
with that melancholy pleasure, in itself a consolation,
which comes of finding your own prognostications
of evil correct, they recalled the words of fate and
strengthened themselves in their superstition.
Ill-omened or not, the words had come true. Bald-
win was dead, his brother was to succeed him, and his
nephew was to come after. And henceforth the days
of the kingdom of Jerusalem are few and full of
trouble.
The kingdom of Jerusalem, like a Roman colony,
was founded by men alone. Those women who came
with the Crusaders either died on the way, unable to
endure the fatigue, heat, and misery of the march, or
fell into the hands of the Turks, in whose harems
they were placed. The Crusaders therefore had to find
wives for themselves in the country. They took them
328 JERUSALEM.
from the Syrian Christians or the Armenians, occasion-
ally, too, from the Saracen women who were willing to
be baptized. Their children, subjected to the enervat-
ing influences of the climate, and imbibing the Oriental
ideas of their mothers, generally preserved some of the
courage of their fathers for the next generation, when
they lost it and became wholly cowardly and sensual
and treacherous. But, as we have seen, the kingdom
was always being reinforced by the arrival of new
knights and men-at-arms, so that for all practical
purposes it was a kingdom of the West transplanted
to the East. All the manners and customs were
purely European. Falconry and hunting were the
most favourite sports. They amused the Saracens,
when they came to have friendly relations with them,
by tournaments and riding at the quintain. In-
doors they beguiled the time which was not taken up
by eating, drinking, or religious services, in chess,
dicing, and games of chance. They were all great
gamblers, and forgot in the chances of the dice all
their misfortunes and anxieties. Those who were rich
enough entertained minstrels, and had readers to read
them the lives of illustrious warriors and kings. Later
on — but this was always done with the greatest secrecy,
even by Frederick II., who cared little enough what
was said of him — they learned to admire the perfor-
mances of dancing-girls. Richard of Cornwall was so
delighted with their voluptuous dances that he carried
a number of them to England. As for their manner
of living, it was coarse and gross. They brought their
Western appetites to the East, and, ignorant of the
necessity of light food and temperance in a hot climate,
they made huge meals of meat and drank vast quan-
tities of wine. This was probably the main cause of
MANNERS OF CRUSADERS. 329
their ungovernable temper, and the sudden outbursts
of rage which sometimes made them commit acts of
such extraordinary folly. And this was most certainly
the cause why they all died young. And though they
adopted every other Oriental habit readily — Oriental
voluptuousness, Oriental magnificence, Oriental dress
— they never learned the truth that Mohammed en-
forced so rigidly, that, to preserve life we must be
temperate. Fever destroyed them, and leprosy, that
most miserable of all diseases, crept into their blood,
possibly, as they thought themselves, through the
eating of pork, of which they were inordinately fond.
For the rest, they swore enormous oaths, vying with
each other in finding strange and startling expressions ;
they were always rebelling against the authority of the
Church, and always ready to be terrified by the threats
of the priests and to repent with tears. In religion
they exercised a sort of fetish worship. For it was no
matter what odds were against them so long as the wood
of the True Cross was with them ; it mattered little
what manner of lives they led so long as a priest would
absolve them ; there was no sin which could not be
expiated by the slaughter of the Mohammedans. Every
Crusader had a right to heaven ; this, whatever else it
was, was an escape from the fires of hell. The devil,
who was always roaming up and down the world, ap-
pearing now in one form and now in another, had no
power over a soldier of the Cross. Everybody, for
instance, knows the story of the Picard knight. He
had made a bargain with the devil, to get revenge —
this obtained, he could not get rid of his infernal ally.
He took the Cross, and the devil ceased to torment
him. But when Jerusalem was taken, and he returned
home, he found the devil there already, awaiting him
33o
JERUSALEM.
r&
jj^B^n
MANNERS OF CRUSADERS. 331
in his own castle. Therefore he took the Cross again,
went outre mer, stayed there, and was no more troubled.
And every Crusader was ready to swear that he had
never himself met any other devil than the black
Ethiopians of the Egyptian army. The saints, on the
other hand, frequently appeared, as we have seen.
Such, in a few words, were the manners of the
Christians over whom ruled Baldwin III. ; an unruly,
ungodly set, superstitious to their fingers' ends, and only
redeemed from savagery by loyalty to their chiefs, by
the dauntless courage in battle shown by those fresh from
Europe, and by whatever little gleams of light may have
shone upon them through the chinks and joints of the
iron armour with which they had covered, so to speak,
and hidden the fair and shining limbs of Christianity.
CHAPTER XII.
KING AMAURY. A.D. Il62 — 1173-
' I had thought I had had men of some understanding
And wisdom, of my council ; but I find none.'
Henry VIII.
At the death of King Baldwin the personal unpopu-
larity of his brother among the barons caused at. first
some hesitation as to his election, but this was over-
ruled by the influence of the clergy, and Amaury was
duly crowned in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
He was at the time of his succession to the crown
twenty-seven years of age. He had been named by
his brother first Count of Jaffa, and afterwards, when
the place was taken, Count of Ascalon. He was a
man somewhat above the middle height ; like his
brother, he had an aquiline nose, brown hair falling
back from his forehead, and would have been as hand-
some as Baldwin but for his premature corpulence.
He was inordinately fat, in spite of extreme temperance
in eating and drinking. As for his faults, they were
many. He was morose and taciturn, rarely speaking
to anyone, and never showing any desire to cultivate
friendships; he was avaricious, always trying to accu-
mulate treasure, a habit which he defended, honestly
enough, on the ground that it was the duty of a king to
provide for emergencies, a duty which he was the first
King of Jerusalem to recognise. At the same time he
KING AMAURY. 333
was always ready with his money in cases of necessity.
He seldom laughed, and when he did, he seemed to
laugh all over, in a manner as undignified as it was un-
graceful. He had, too, a slight impediment in his
speech, which prevented him from speaking freely, and
was probably the main cause of his taciturnity. He
was unchaste, and made no secret of his incontinence.
He was a violent enemy of what his biographer calls
the liberty of the Church — in other w r ords, he insisted
on the property of the Church bearing the burden of
taxation equally with all other property. He had little
education, but loved reading, especially the reading of
history, and was fond of asking questions on curious
and recondite subjects. Thus, he once startled
William of Tyre by asking him if there was any proof,
apart from revelation, of the doctrine of a future world.
The priest proved to him, by the Socratic method, he
says, that there was ; but he confesses that he was
greatly exercised in spirit at the king's asking such a
question. He was well versed in all questions of law, and
in military matters was generally a prudent leader, and
always patient of fatigue and suffering. ' Being so fat/
we are told, ' the rigours of cold and heat did not trouble
him ' — a very odd result of corpulence. He obeyed all
the ordinances of the Church, and showed his magna-
nimity by never taking the least notice of things said
in his disfavour, when they were reported to him.
He loved not dice or gambling, and had, indeed, but
one sport of which he was really fond, that of falconry.
Evidently a gloomy kind of prince, with his mind over-
whelmed by all sorts of doubts and questions of
morality and religion, perplexed by the cares and
anxieties of his position, void of enthusiasm for the
crown which he wore, but resolute to do the best he
,
334 JERUSALEM.
could for his kingdom ; more prudent and far-seeing
than any who had preceded him, but without the dash
and vigour of his ancestors ; slow of thought, and con-
sequently liable to ill-success for want of promptness ;
a man something like our William III. : one who had a
few friends who admired and respected him, but who, to
the many, was unpopular and distasteful.
He had married Agnes, the daughter of Jocelyn the
younger, by whom he had three children, Baldwin, after-
wards king, Sybille, and Isabelle. On his accession it
was discovered — one wonders why the Church had not
interfered earlier — that the marriage was unlawful,
because his own and his wife's grandfathers, Baldwin du
Bourg, and Jocelyn the elder, had been first cousins.
He was therefore compelled to get a divorce from
Agnes, who married again, first Hugh of Ibelin, a
gallant fighting man, and afterwards Renaud of Sidon,
also a marriage within the limits, only this time
the Church did not think proper to interpose her
authority.
Like all the Kings of Jerusalem, Amaury began his
reign with an expedition, by way of winning the spurs
of gallantry. The Egyptians — the Fatemite dynasty
being now in its last stage of decay — failed to pay the
tribute which had been agreed upon after the taking of
Ascalon. Amaury led an army to Pelusium, which he
took and plundered, and returned home laden with
spoils and glory.
The Fatemite Caliphs, degenerate now, and sunk in
sloth, left the whole government of their rich empire to
their viziers, who had taken the title of sultan.
Dhargam, the vizier at this time, had a powerful rival
named Shawer, whom he managed to turn out of his
government and banish from the kingdom. Shawer
DHARGAM. 335
repaired to Damascus, and representing to Nur-ed-din
the weakened state of the kingdom, urged him to send
an army which should in the first instance place himself
in the seat of Dhargam, and in the next make Egypt a
sort of appanage to Damascus. The project was
tempting. If Egypt could be made even an ally of
Damascus, or more properly speaking, of Baghdad, to
which Caliphate Nur-ed-din belonged, the way was
clear for united action against the Christian kingdom
on three sides at once. Nur-ed-din did not hesitate
long. Deputing his ablest general, Shirkoh, to lead his
forces, he despatched a formidable army to Egypt,
to support the rebellious claims of Shawer. But
Dhargam in his turn was not idle. He sent messengers
to King Amaury, offering conditions, almost any which
the king might dictate, in return for assistance. But
while the negotiations were pending, and Amaury was
making up his mind how to act, Shirkoh and his army
were already in Egypt. Dhargam led his troops to
meet the enemy, and in a first engagement entirely
routed the Syrians. The next day, however, these
rallied, and the unfortunate Dhargam was killed by
a chance arrow in the battle. Shawer entered into Cairo
in triumph, killed all Dhargam's relations — a summary
and efficacious way of preventing any possible future
claims on the part of his descendants — and allowed
Shirkoh to establish himself in Pelusium, where the
Syrians settled down, and refused either to quit the
kingdom, or to acknowledge the authority of the caliph.
Shawer found himself thus in the position of one seek-
ing to be delivered from his friends, and saw no way of
escape but by the intervention of the Christians. He
sent ambassadors to Amaury, making overtures similar
to those proposed by his late rival, even offering greater
336 JERUSALEM.
advantages if the previous terms were not sufficiently
liberal ; but Amaury accepted them, and marched with
all his forces into Egypt. These allied forces of Shawer
and Amaury besieged Shirkoh in Pelusium, but were not
strong enough to get more than a conditional surrender,
the Syrian general being allowed to depart with all the
honours of war, and to return to Damascus. And at
the same time Nur-ed-din received a defeat near Tripoli,
which raised the spirit of the Christians to the highest
point. Next year, however, he avenged himself by
defeating young Bohemond of Antioch, Raymond of
Tripoli, the Greek governor of Cilicia, and the Armenian
prince Toros. It was a shameful rout. * No one
bethought him of his former courage, or of the deeds
of his ancestors ; no one sought to avenge the insults of
the enemy, or to fight gloriously for the liberty and
honour of his country. Each, on the other hand,
hastening tc throw away his arms, endeavoured by
indecent supplications to preserve a life which it would
have been a thousand times better to sacrifice by
fighting valiantly for his country. Toros the Armenian
got away by flight : Bohemond and the rest were all
taken prisoners, while they were shamefully running
away.' In the midst of the consternation produced by
this disaster, Thierry, Count of Flanders, who seems to
have been continually coming into the country like a
Dens ex machina in the midst of calamities, arrived oppor-
tunely with a small following of knights. He could not,
however, prevent Nur-ed-din from taking the Castle of
Banias, which in the absence of its seigneur, Humphrey,
who was away in Egypt, had been consigned to the
care of one Walter of Quesnet. Walter gave up the
place, which he was too weak to defend, and in
these degraded times was of course accused of having
CONTINUED REVERSES. 337
received bribes for the purpose from Nur-ed-din. Per-
haps he did.
The king came back glorious with his Egyptian
exploit, only to hear of these reverses, and to march
north in hopes of repairing them. He could do no more
than place the best men he had in the fortresses, while
Shirkoh gained possession of a stronghold named the
Grotto of Tyre, by treachery, as was alleged — at least
the Christian governor was hanged for it at Sidon.
The fortress of Montreal, in Moab, fell at the same
time, and the king was so indignant that he hung up
twelve of the Templars who had been among the
besieged, and had consented to its capitulation.
Nothing can explain the continual reverses of the
Christians at the time except the fact of their degenera-
tion and cowardice, and the dwindling away of that full
stream of pilgrim soldiers who had formerly flocked
yearly to the East. The second Crusade, indeed, was
productive of the greatest harm in this respect to the
Christian kingdom. It drained the West of all the
men who wished to become pilgrims ; and the fact that
so few returned deterred effectually those who would
otherwise have wished to go. Other causes, of
course, were at work. Of these, the chief were the
crusades against the Moors in Spain and the Pagans
in Germany, and the development of pilgrimages to
local shrines and saints. It was much easier and
a great deal pleasanter, though not so glorious, to ride
across a friendly country to a saint not many hundreds
of miles away, than to journey in peril and priva-
tion along the long and weary road which led to
Jerusalem.
But there was now a lull in the incursions of Nur-ed-
din. He and Shirkoh had other and vaster projects on
22
338 JERUSALEM.
hand. They sent to the caliph at Baghdad, and pointed
out the manifest advantages which would accrue from
the extinction of the Fatemite power, the union of both
caliphates into one, and the possession of a country so
rich and so fertile as Egypt, the people of which were
enervated by pleasure and luxury, and absolutely un-
fitted for any kind of resistance. The caliph listened.
Surrounded as he was by every luxury that the heart of
man could desire, it mattered little to him whether
another rich country was added to his nominal rule or
not. But it mattered greatly that the divided allegiance
of Islam should be made to run again in one stream, and
he consented to give all his influence provided the war
were made a religious war. To this Nur-ed-din and
his general eagerly assented, and the caliph wrote
to all the princes who owned his sway, commanding
them to assist Shirkoh in his intended invasion of
Egypt.
Amaury possessed prudence enough to know that if
the Syrians conquered Egypt his own position would be
far worse than before ; and he collected his forces and
marched southwards, in hopes of intercepting the Syrian
army in the desert. He missed them ; but Shawer, full
of admiration for the good faith which seemed to him
to have actuated the Christians, welcomed them with
every demonstration of gratitude when they arrived in
Egypt, and placed, to use the phrase of the historian
all the treasures of the country at their disposal.
Amaury established his camp near Cairo, on the banks of
the Nile, and then held counsel what next to do. He de
termined to make another attempt to intercept Shirkoh,
and though he again missed the main army, he came
upon a small rear-guard, which he either killed or made
prisoners. From the prisoners he learned that a great
1
THE CALIPH. 339
disaster had befallen the Turks on their way across the
desert. South of Moab there had arisen a frightful
storm and whirlwind, in which the sand was driven
about like the waves of the sea. To escape it, the
troops dismounted and crouched behind the beasts,
covering their faces ; they lost all their camels, most of
their provisions, and a vast number of their men.
Amaury came back again in good spirits at this intelli-
gence, and thinking of returning home again, the
tempest having done the work of his own sword. But
he overrated the power of the Egyptians, and Shawer,
knowing how utterly unable his own forces were to cope
with those of Shirkoh, shattered though these were,
implored the king to remain in Egypt and help him to
drive off the invader. He undertook to give the
Christians a sum of four hundred thousand gold pieces,
half to be paid on the spot, half when the work was
done, provided that the king undertook not to leave
Egypt till the enemy had been driven out. The terms
were agreed to ; the king gave his right hand in token
of fidelity, and sent Hugh of Caesarea, accompanied
by a Templar named Foucher, to receive the personal
promise of the great and mysterious caliph himself,
whom no one had yet seen.
The two knights, with Shawer, proceeded to the
palace. They' were preceded by a number of trum-
peters and swordsmen, and led through dark passages
where gates, at each of which were Ethiopian guards,
^ continually barred the way. Having passed through
these, they found themselves in an open place, sur-
rounded by galleries with marble columns, with panels
of gold, and pavements of curious mosaic. There, too,
were basins of marble filled with pure and sparkling
water ; the cries and calls of birds unknown to Euro-
22 — 2
34o JERUSALEM.
peans, of strange shape and glorious plumage, saluted
their ears ; and going farther on they found themselves
in a menagerie of strange beasts, ' such as the painter
might imagine, or the poet, with his lying license,
might invent, or the imagination of a sleeper Could
fancy in dreams of the night.'
Passing on still through more corridors, and along
other passages, they arrived at last in the palace itself,
where were armed men, and guards whose arms and
martial bearing proclaimed the power, even as the
splendour of the place proclaimed the wealth, of the
sovereign who owned it. They were shown into an
apartment one end of which was hidden by curtains,
embroidered with gold and precious stones. Before
the curtain Shawer, the sultan, prostrated himself
twice, and then took the sword which hung from his
neck and humbly laid it on the ground. At that
moment the curtains drew apart, and disclosed the
caliph himself, seated on a golden throne, in robes
more splendid than those of kings, and surrounded by
a small number of his domestics and favourite eunuchs.
Then the sultan advanced and explained the object of
this visit, and the reasons which had led to the treaty
with the Christians. The caliph replied in a few words
that he agreed to the treaty, and promised to interpret
all the conditions in the manner most favourable to the
king.
But Hugh demanded that the caliph should ratify the
treaty by giving his hand, after the manner of the
Christians, a proposition which was received with the
greatest horror ; nor was it till the sultan had urged
the point with vehemence that the caliph consented,
presenting his right hand covered with a handkerchief.
Again the sturdy Hugh expostulated. ' Sir,' said he to
THE CALIPH. 341
the caliph, who had never been addressed in such a
manner before, ' loyalty knows no concealments. Let
everything between princes be bare and open. . . .
Give me your uncovered hand, or I shall be constrained
to think that you have some secret design, and possess
less sincerity than I wish to experience from you.'
The caliph yielded, smiling, and with a good grace,
while his courtiers were dumb with amazement, and
repeated, in the same words as Hugh, the oath to
adhere to the conditions in good faith, without fraud or
evil intention.
The caliph was in the flower of youth, tall, and of
handsome appearance ; he had an infinite number of
wives, and was named El ''Adhid li din illah. When he
sent away the deputies, he gave them presents whose
abundance and value served at the same time to honour
him who gave them, and to rejoice those who received
them from so illustrious a prince.
The terms of alliance being thus agreed upon,
Amaury proceeded with his campaign. But Shirkoh
was too wary to give him an opportunity of fighting,
and after playing with him a little, withdrew into the
desert, and the Christians occupied the city of Cairo,
where they were allowed to go everywhere, even into
the palace of the caliph, a mark of the highest favour.
Shirkoh returned, and trusting to his superiority of
numbers, forced on a battle. He had with him — of
course the numbers must be taken with some reserve —
twelve thousand Turks and ten thousand Arabs, the
latter armed with nothing but the lance. The Chris-
tians had three hundred and sixty knights, a large body
of Turcopoles, and the Egyptian army, the numbers of
which are not given.
The battle was fought at a place called Babain, ' the
342- JERUSALEM.
two gates,' about two leagues from Cairo, on the
borders of the desert, where sandhills encroach steadily
on the cultivated soil, and form valleys between them-
selves, in which the Christians had to manoeuvre. No
ground could have been worse for them. The battle
went against them. At the close of the day Hugh of
Csesarea had been taken prisoner, the Bishop of Beth-
lehem, Eustace Collet, Jocelyn of Samosata, and many
other knights, were killed, the Christians, fighting still,
were scattered about the field, and the king found
himself on one of the sandhills, master of the position
for which he had fought, but with very few of his
men round him. He raised his banner to rally the
Christians, and then began to consider how best to get
away from the field, for the only way was through a
narrow pass, threatened on either side by a hill on
which the Turks were crowded in force. They formed
in close array, placing on the outside those who were
the best armed. But the Turks made no attack upon
them, probably from ignorance of the result of the
day, or from fatigue, and the Christians marched all
through the night. It was four days before they all
came back to the camp, and it was then found they had
lost a hundred knights on the field.
Shirkoh, whose losses had been very much greater,
rallying his men, marched northwards on Alexandria,
which surrendered without striking a blow. By
Amaury's advice, an Egyptian fleet was sent down
the river to intercept all supplies, and as Alexandria
was without any stores of corn and provisions, it was
not long before Shirkoh, starved out, left the city in the
charge of his nephew, afterwards the great and illus-
trious Saladin, with a thousand horse, while he himself
took up his old position near Cairo. Thereupon
BATTLE OF BABAIN. 343
Amaury moved north to invest Alexandria. The
Egyptian fleet held the river and commanded the port;
the allied armies blocked up all the avenues of ap-
proach ; the orchards and gardens round the walls,
which had been the delight and pride of the Alex-
andrians, were ruthlessly destroyed : fresh recruits
poured in from all parts of Palestine, and the besieged
began to suffer from all kinds of privation. Saladin
sent messengers to his uncle, urging him to bring as-
sistance. Shirkoh, too weak to send any, thought it
best to make favourable terms while he could. Sending
for his prisoner Hugh of Csesarea, he made proposals
of peace. ' Fortune,' he said, ' has not been favourable
to me since I came into this country. Would to God
I could see my way out of it ! You are noble, a friend
of the king, and weighty in counsel ; be a mediator of
peace between us. Say to the king, " We are losing
our time here ; it passes without bringing any profit to
us, while there is plenty for us to do at home." And
why should the king lavish his strength upon these
cowardly Egyptians, for whom he is trying to secure
the riches of the country? Let him have back all the
prisoners whom I hold in irons ; let him raise the siege
and give me back my men who are in his hands, and I
will go out of the country.'
Hugh took the message, and gave the advice that the
Saracen wished. A council was held, and the terms
were agreed to. The gates were thrown open, provi-
sions taken in, and besiegers and besieged mingled on
those friendly terms which were now common in the
East. Saladin went to the camp of Amaury, who
received him as a friend, and the Vizier Shawer entered
into the city, and began the administration of justice ;
that is to say, he hanged all those who were unlucky
344 JERUSALEM.
enough to be in power when Shirkoh entered the city,
and who had surrendered a place they had no means
whatever of holding. Examples such as these,
common enough in the Middle Ages, might have
been expected to bring civic distinctions into dis-
repute. Ambition, however, was probably stronger
than terror.
All being finished, the king returned to Ascalon, not
entirely covered with glory, but not without credit.
On his arrival he learned that a bride was waiting for
him at Tyre, Maria, niece of the Greek Emperor, who
had been wooed and won for him — the young lad}^
wishes were not, probably, much consulted in the matter
— by the Archbishop of Caesarea. He hastened to
Tyre, and on the 29th of the month, nine days after his
arrival at Ascalon, he was married in great state
and ceremony. And now there was peace in Palestine
for a brief space. The young Count of Nevers arrived
in Jerusalem, with a numerous following, intending to
offer his arms to the king, and dedicate his life to
fighting the Mohammedans. But a sudden illness
struck him down, and after languishing a long time, he
died. A secret embassy was also sent to Amaury from
Constantinople. The emperor had learned the feeble
and enervated state of Egypt, and, ignorant that Nur-
ed-din, a greater than he, had his eyes upon the same
country, sent to expose his own ambition to Amaury,
and to propose terms of common action. The idea
was not new to the long-sighted king, the most clear-
headed of all the Kings of Jerusalem. He had had
plenty of opportunities, during his Egyptian campaign,
of contrasting the riches of Cairo with the poverty of
Jerusalem, the fertility of Egypt with the sterility of
Palestine. Little as he cared about the Church, of
MARRIAGE OF KING. 345
which he was the sworn defender, it could not but
occur to him to contrast Jerusalem with Mecca, and to
consider that while Mecca was the Holy City, Baghdad
and Cairo were the capitals of the sovereign caliphs.
Why should not Cairo be to Jerusalem what Baghdad
was to Mecca ? Why should not he, the caliph of
Christianity, sit in that gorgeous palace behind the gold-
embroidered curtains, dressed in robes of purple and
satin, with his guards, his life of indolence and ease,
and — his seraglio ? For the customs of the East had
struck the imaginations of these descendants of the
Crusaders. They, too, longed for the shady gardens,
the fountains, the sweet scent of roses — and the houris
of the world with whom the happy Moslems anticipated
the joys of heaven. Many of them, in their castles far
awa}' in the country, imitated, so far as they were able,
the customs of their enemies ; notably young Jocelyn of
Edessa. Some of them became renegades, and going
over to the Saracens, got riches, and therefore luxury,
at the point of the sword. All of them — except per-
haps the Templars and Hospitallers, who might do so
in secret — openly maintained friendly relations with
the Mohammedans, and partook freely of their hospi-
tality.
And now Amaury was guilty of an act of perfidy
which brought about, or rather accelerated, the final
fall of the Christian kingdom. Tormented by his own
ambitious designs, and the thought of that rich empire
of Egypt, which seemed to wait for the first hand
strong enough to seize it — without waiting for the
Greek emperor, perhaps, however, acting in secret
concert with him — he declared that Shawer had been
sending secret messages to Nur-ed-din, and had thereby
infringed the treaty of alliance. For this reason, as he
346 JERUSALEM.
alleged, he proclaimed war against Egypt, and led his
army against Pelusium. One voice only was raised
against the enterprise. Cruel, ambitious, avaricious, and
haughty as the Templars were, they were never capable
of deliberately breaking their word. The Grand
Master of the Order, Bertrand de Blanquefort, spoke
loudly against the expedition. He, for one, would not
allow his knights to join an army which set out to carry
war into a kingdom friendly to their own, bound by
acts of solemn treaty, which had committed no offence,
which had continued loyal and true to its engagements.
The Templars remained behind at Jerusalem. The
Hospitallers went with Amaury and his host, one of the
finest armies that the kingdom had ever produced.
They began by taking Pelusium, after a ten days' march
through the desert along a road which they knew well
by this time. The resistance made by Pelusium was
very short, lasting only three days, when the Christians
took the place, and slaughtered every man, woman,
and child who fell into their hands.
The vizier, Shawer, was thrown, at first, into the
wildest terror. In the disorganized state of his army
there was absolutely nothing to prevent the Christians
from marching directly upon Cairo, and gaining posses-
sion, by a single assault, of the whole realm of Egypt.
All seemed lost, and Shawer was already preparing
for flight, when it occurred to him to tempt the
king, whose cupidity was notorious, by the offer of
money.
' Nullum numen abest, si sit prudentia.'
Shawer sent his messengers. Amaury listened to them.
At the same time, as a last resource, Shawer sent
courtiers in hot haste to Nur-ed-din, exposing the
critical state of the kingdom. To keep the Christians
SHA WER AND AM A UR Y. 347
from advancing, he kept his messengers running back-
wards and forwards, offering, declining, renewing, in-
creasing the advantages of his terms. Amaury was to
have a quarter of a million, half a million, a million, two
million pieces of gold, on condition that he would give
him back his son and nephew, and quit the kingdom.
All this time, the negotiations being entirely secret, the
king was pretending to advance, but very slowly, and
the Christians, not knowing the cause of the delay, were
eager to be led. After eight or nine days of negotia-
tions, which the sultan had occupied in getting into
Cairo every fighting man upon whom he could reckon,
the king moved his forces to a village five or* six
miles from Cairo, where he pitched his camp. Here
messengers from Shawer met him, imploring him not
to advance nearer the city, as he was engaged in
collecting, with all possible speed and diligence, the
sum of money which he had promised. Shawer had
already got back his son and nephew, giving in return
two grandchildren — children of tender age. Amaury
was completely deceived. Lulled by the assurances of
Shawer, dazzled by his own golden dreams, he saw
himself, the successful violator of a solemn treaty,
returning laden with a treasure of gold such as no king
of the West could boast ; with this he would bring
knights from Europe ; with this he would beat off the
Saracens, conquer Damascus, reconquer Edessa and the
strong places of the north ; and having successfully
used this mighty treasure, he would violate another
solemn treaty, return to Egypt with a larger and more
powerful army, and make himself master of Cairo and
all its wealth. There was plenty of time ; he was
not yet thirty ; life was all before him, and many years
of enjoyment.
348 JERUSALEM.
But there came a rude awakening to the dream.
Nur-ed-din, hearing of the expedition of Amaury, and
intercepting the messengers of Shawer, had two
courses open to him. He might take advantage of
Amaury's absence, and pour all his troops together into
Palestine, so as either to annihilate the kingdom of
Jerusalem, or cripple it beyond power of recovery ; or
he might send Shirkoh again to Egypt, this time as the
ally of Shawer, and with secret instructions as to the
nature of the alliance. He preferred the latter course.
Egypt was a prey that required courage and prompt-
ness ; Palestine could wait ; like an over-ripe pear, it
was* certain, sooner or later, to drop at his feet.
Shirkoh arrived in Egypt. Shawer dropped the veil,
and laughed at Amaury. The king, in an agony of rage
and mortification, hastily broke up his camp and retired
to Pelusium. Thence, seeing that there was nothing
more to be done, he returned in disgrace and confusion
to his own kingdom.
As for Shirkoh, he had no intention whatever of going
home again without getting something substantial out
of the expedition. He established his camp before
Cairo, and encouraged Shawer to look on him as one of
his best friends, inviting him to enter his camp at all
times, and come without escort. And one day, when
Shawer, relying on the friendliness of his ally, rode in
accompanied only by two or three of his sons and
friends, he was seized by the guards of Shirkoh and
beheaded, without any resistance being possible.
Shirkoh, meantime, was taking a walk on the banks of
the Nile, so as to be able to say that he was innocent
of the murder. Shawer's sons fled to the caliph. But
the caliph could do nothing ; the house of Shawer
were all cut off, like the house of Saul ; and the repre-
A MA UR Y O UTWITTED. 349
sentative of the Fatemites was compelled to acknow-
ledge the servant of his rival as his sultan and vizier,
the real master of Egypt.
1 Oh, blind cupidity of men !' cries William of Tyre;
' all the treasures of Egypt were lying at our feet. . . .
There was safety for those who travelled by sea ; there
was trade for those who wished to enrich themselves in
Egypt ; there was no enemy for us in the south ; the
Egyptians brought us their merchandise, and spent
their gold in our country. And now all is changed ;
sad are the notes of our harps ; the sea refuses us
peaceful navigation ; all the countries around us obey
our enemies ; every kingdom is armed for our ruin.
And the avarice of one man has done this ; his cupidity
has covered over with clouds the clear bright sky which
the goodness of the Lord had given us.'
It was some comfort to the Christians to hear that
Shirkoh, a year after his accession to power, was gone
out of the world. But a mightier than Shirkoh came
after him, his nephew, Saladin.
And now, indeed, the situation of the Christian
kingdom was precarious. With the exception of Tyre
and the towns to the north, the kingdom consisted of
nothing but Palestine between Tiberias on the north
and Ascalon on the south. All the outlying forts, or
nearly all, were already gone. The prestige of Amaury,
which had been raised by his first successful expedition,
was entirely gone by the ill-success of the second.
Moreover, Egypt, which had been a friendly power,
was now hostile. By means of a fleet from Egypt the
country might be menaced from the sea as well as from
the land; reinforcements, supplies, might be cut off;
pilgrims intercepted. Under these circumstances, it
was resolved to send letters at once to all the Western
35o JERUSALEM.
kings and princes, calling for assistance. The patri-
arch, the Archbishop of Caesarea, and the Bishop of
Acre were selected to be the bearers of these. The
deputies, armed with these despatches, embarked in a
single ship. A frightful storm overtook them ; the oars
were broken ; the masts all went by the board ; and on
the third day, more dead than alive with sickness and
fright, the unlucky ambassadors put back to port,
and refused to venture themselves again upon the sea.
The Archbishop of Tyre took their place, and went
away, under better auspices, accompanied by the Bishop
of Banias, who died in France. He was away for two
years, but did not effect anything. Europe, in fact,
was growing tired of pouring assistance into a country
which, like the sea, swallowed everything, gave nothing
back, and still demanded more.
The Emperor of Constantinople, however, who was
perfectly aware of the importance of keeping the Turks
employed in fighting against Palestine, and knew well
that, Jerusalem once gone, Asia Minor was at their
mercy, and Constantinople would be the object of their
ambitions, sent a fleet of a hundred and fifty galleys of
war, with sixty large transports, and ten or twelve
dromons, filled with all sorts of instruments of war.
It would have been better for King Amaury had this
gift, a white elephant, which had to be fed, never been
sent. As it was come, however, he proceeded to make
use of it by invading Egypt a third time. And this
time they determined on besieging Damietta, and
Amaury led his army from Ascalon, on the ioth October,
1 169, on the most useless expedition that he had yet
undertaken.
A bar, formed by an iron chain, ran across the river,
which prevented the Christian fleet from advancing to
THE GREEK FLEET. 351
the town ; they therefore took up their station outside.
The troops on land began their siege in regular form,
and, if Amaury had given the word, the town might
have been carried by assault ; but he let the moment
pass, and reinforcements of Turks poured into the
place by thousands. Towers were constructed and
sorties made by the besieged, but no advantage on
either side was gained. But now began the misfortunes
of the Christians. The Greeks had no provisions.
They subsisted for a while by eating that portion of
the palm which is cut from the top of the trunk at the
branching out of the leaves — no bad food, provided
enough can be obtained, the worst of it being that
each palm contains no more than enough for a single
salad (as the palmiste is now used), and costs the life
of a tree. And when the forest of palms was cut down
round Damietta there was no more food of any kind to
be had, while the soldiers of Amaury were unable to
help their allies, having to consider the probability of
being in a few days without food themselves. Then
heavy rains fell and swamped the tents, and even a
broad ditch round each one did not wholly keep out
the water. The Greek fleet, too, was nearly destroyed
by a fire boat, which was sent down the river. It set
fire to six of the galleys, and would have destroyed all
the rest but for the king himself, who mounted his
horse, half dressed, and rode down to the bank shout-
ing to the sailors. The assaults were continued, but
there was no longer any heart in the Christian camp,
and Amaury signed a treaty of peace and withdrew his
troops to Ascalon, which he reached on the 21st of
December, having been engaged for two months in
convincing the Saracens of his feebleness even when
backed by the Greeks. The fleet was overtaken by a
352 JERUSALEM.
storm, most of the ships were lost, and of all the
magnificent array of galleys that sailed from Constan-
tinople in the spring, but very few remained after the
campaign of Damietta. The failure of the expedition
was probably due to the fact that the Greek emperor,
who had promised a large sum of money sufficient for
the maintenance of the army, allowed it to go without
any. And the Greek generals, the first to find them-
selves in want of provisions, not only had no money
to buy them, but could find no one to lend them
money.
The following year was marked by disasters of quite
another kind. A great earthquake, or rather a succes-
sion of earthquakes, passed through Palestine, and by
its violence, and the frequency of its attacks, for it
returned again and again during a space of three or
four months, filled all men's hearts with fear ; hundreds
perished in the ruins of their houses ; grief and con-
sternation spread everywhere. Antioch, with nearly
its whole population, was entirely destroyed, even its
strong walls and towers being all thrown down ;
Laodicea, Emesa, Aleppo, and Hamath shared the
fate of Antioch. Tripoli presented the appearance of
a heap of stones, and Tyre, more fortunate than the
rest, had yet some of its towers overthrown. Amid
these disasters there was no thought of war, and for
some months, at least, there was peace. But in
December news came that Saladin was invading
Christian territory in the south. Amaury hastened to
Ascalon, and called all his chivalry together. They
assembled at Gaza, and he found that he could muster
two hundred and fifty knights and two thousand foot.
Saladin was besieging the fort of Daroum, which the
king had himself built. But leaving Daroum, Saladin
COUNCIL OF BARONS. 353
advanced to Gaza.. The Christian army fought their
way through to the citadel, and Saladin, after pillaging
the city, retired with his forces. Probably his object
was to accustom his men by small successes with over-
whelming forces for the greater efforts he intended to
make when the prestige of the Christians should have
sunk lower, and the dread which the Saracens still felt
for the strong-armed knights in steel should have
wholly, or in great measure, passed away.
Early in the following year Amaury called a council
of his barons to deliberate on the precarious state of the
kingdom. Every day the number of the enemy in-
creased, every day their own resources diminished.
There was, of course, but one way to meet the dangers
which menaced them, the only way which the kingdom
had ever known, the arrival of aid from Europe. It
was resolved to send ambassadors with the most urgent
letters to all the powers, and to Constantinople a
special ambassador begging for instant aid. Who was
to go ? The king, after a short parley with his advisers,
declared that he would go himself. The barons cried out,
on hearing this announcement, that they could not be
deprived of their king, that the realm would fall to
pieces without him — to all appearance seriously alarmed
at the prospect of being left alone, or else every man
hoping himself to be appointed as ambassador. But
Amaury terminated the discussion in a manner
characteristic of himself. 'Let the Lord,' he said,
' defend His own kingdom. As for me, I am going.'
It is tolerably clear that the sovereign who could
permit himself to have doubts on the subject of a
future world, might well have doubts as to whether a
kingdom, so harassed as his own, so devoured by greed,
selfishness, and ambition, so corrupted by lust and
23
354 JERUSALEM.
license, was really the kingdom of the Lord. If it
was, of course the Lord would look after His own ; if
not, why, then, Amaury's hands were well washed of the
responsibility. He went to Constantinople, where he
was received with every demonstration of friendship,
and William of Tyre exhausts himself in describing the
favour shown to him. One thing is noticeable, that
the splendour of the Greek emperor rivalled that of the
caliph. On the occasion of the first interview of
Amaury with the emperor, there were suspended before
the hall of audience curtains of precious stuff and rich
embroidery, exactly like what we are told of the Caliph
of Cairo, and as soon as the king arrived the curtains
were withdrawn and the emperor disclosed sitting on a
throne of gold, and dressed in the Imperial robes.
Great fetes were given to celebrate the arrival of
Amaury and his train ; all the sacred relics, including
the wood of the Cross, the nails, the lance — was this the
lance found by Peter at Antioch, or another ? — the
sponge, the reed, the crown of thorns, the sacred
shroud and the sandals, were shown to the Latins ;
games and spectacles were invented for their amuse-
ment, including choruses of young girls and theatrical
displays, in which, says the Archbishop of Tyre, careful
lest the king's example should be taken as a precedent
among his own flock, the greatest propriety was
observed ; and at last, treaties having been signed, and
promises made, Amaury departed, laden with valuable
presents of gold and other valuables. Alas ! it was not
gold that he wanted, but stout hearts and strong hands,
and of these he brought back none but his own.
He returned for more fighting and more disappoint-
ment. Nur-ed-din was reported near Banias with an
arm}', and Amaury had to fix his camp in Galilee to
DEFEAT OF THE SARACENS. 355
watch his movements. The object of the sultan, how-
ever, seems to have been like that of Saladin, to
accustom his men to face the Christians, and not yet to
force on a decided engagement.
The Archbishop of Tyre at this time returned from
his embassy. Nothing had been effected. The princes
of the West would promise no help, would give no help.
He brought with him Stephen, son of Count Thibaut of
Blois, whom the king intended to make his son-in-law.
But Stephen, after coming to Jerusalem, declined the
king's offer, led a wild and licentious life for a few
months, to the general scandal, and then returned to
Europe.
Then followed three years of war. Toros, the
Armenian prince, and the firm ally of the Christians,
died, and was succeeded by his nephew, Thomas. His
brother, Melier, wishing to obtain the dominion for
himself, repaired to Nur-ed-din, obtained his help on
certain conditions, and expelled his nephew, with all the
Latin Christians who were in Armenia and Cilicia.
The Prince of Antioch declared war against him, and
the king marched his army north. But while he was
on the road, news came that Nur-ed-din was attacking
Kerak in Moab. Before Amaury could get to Jerusalem,
whither he hastened on receipt of this news, the
Saracens were defeated, and the siege raised by
Humphrey the Constable.
Then came Saladin with a large force. It was
decided that the Christian army was not strong enough
to meet him, and the troops were marched, on pretence
of seeking the Saracens, to Ascalon, where they re-
mained, while Saladin went round the south of the
Dead Sea, and laid siege to the fortress of Montreal.
This proved too strong for him, and he returned to
23—2
35^ JERUSALEM.
Egypt. In the following year he made another un-
successful attempt in Moab, in which, however, he
burned the vineyards and ravaged the country, the
king not being strong enough to follow him. And now
follows the most extraordinary and inexplicable story
in the whole history of Jerusalem. We give it in the
words of the historian himself.
' During forty years the Assassins followed the faith
of the Saracens, conforming to their traditions with a
zeal so great that, compared with them, all other people
would be esteemed prevaricators, they alone exactly
fulfilling the law. At this time they had for chief a
man endowed with eloquence, ability, and enthusiasm.
Forgetting all the customs of his predecessors, he was
the first who had in his possession the books of the
Gospels and the Apostolic code : he studied them
incessantly with much zeal, and succeeded at length, by
dint of labour, in learning the history of the miracles
and precepts of Christ, as well as the doctrine of the
Apostles.
' Comparing this sweet and fair teaching of Christ
with that of the miserable seducer, Mohammed, he came
in time to reject with scorn all that he had been taught
from the cradle, and to hold in abomination the
doctrines of him who had led the Arabs astray. He
instructed his people in the same manner, ceased the
practices of a superstitious worship, removed the inter-
diction from wine and pork, abolished the Mohammedan
fasts, and overthrew the oratories. He then sent a
messenger, one Boaldel, to King Amaury with the
following offer. If the Templars, who possessed strong
places in his neighbourhood, would remit an annual !
tribute of two thousand pieces of gold which they 1
exacted from the people round their castles, he and his \
THE TEMPLARS' POLICY. 357
would be converted to the faith of Christ, and would all
receive baptism.
' The king received the ambassador with a lively joy.
He went so far, in his readiness to close with the offer,
as to hold himself prepared to indemnify the Templars
for the sum which they would lose. And after keeping
the messenger a long time in order to conclude an
arrangement with him, he sent him back to his master,
with a guide to watch over the security of his person.
They had already passed the city of Tripoli, and were
on the point of entering into the country of the Assassins,
when suddenly certain men, brethren of the Temple,
drawing their swords and rushing upon the traveller,
who advanced without fear and under ths protection of
the king, massacred the messenger of the sheikh.'
Thus was lost the most splendid opportunity that
ever Christian King of Jerusalem had. There cannot
be the least doubt that, had the messenger arrived home
in safety, a large army of men devoted to any cause
which their chief embraced, sworn to obey or to die,
trained in close discipline, fanatic to the last degree,
would have been transferred to the Christian camp.
Moreover, there would have been a precedent which
history lacks of the conversion of a whole tribe or
nation from Islamism to Christianity. What sort of
religion the sheikh of the Assassins contemplated is
difficult to tell. But he could not have been a worse
Christian than the defenders of Palestine. And then
comes the question, why did the Templars kill the
messenger ? what reason had they for thwarting the
sheikh and the king? why, considering the indemnity
they were to receive, should they wish to prevent the
arrangement ? And what could have been their motive
for preventing the conversion of the Assassins to their
358 JERUSALEM.
own religion ? One answer only occurs to us. It has
always seemed to us that the Templars, towards the
close of the Christian rule in Palestine, were actuated
by a deep and firmly-rooted ambition. They proposed,
seeing the weakness of the kingdom, and the worthless-
ness of its barons, to acquire for themselves castle after
castle, strong place after strong place, till, when King
Amaury was dead, and his son, already known to be
tainted with leprosy, was on the throne, the kingdom
would drop quietly into their own hands, the only
strong hands left in the country. With this end in
view they were acquiring forts in Cilicia and Armenia,
all over Phoenicia, and across the Jordan. Palestine
proper was dotted with their manors and fiefs. Nor
was this all. In Europe their broad lands increased
every day, and their income, already, one hundred
and fifty years before their dissolution, was enormous.
There can be no doubt that the Templars, had they
chosen to concentrate their forces, and to get together
all the knights they could muster, might have deferred
for long, and perhaps altogether, the final fall of the
kingdom. But they did not perceive the immediate
danger, and while the Mohammedan forces were uniting
and concentrating, they probably still believed them to
be divided and dissentient.
On no other ground than the hypothesis of this am-
bition can we explain the singular murder of this
ambassador. The Templars did not wish to see the king's
hands strengthened.
As this strange association, the Order of Assassins,
played a most important part in the political events of
the period of which we are speaking, a more detailed
account of origin and tenets may not be out of place
here.
THE ASSASSINS. 359
The national aversion of the Persians from the
religion of their Mohammedan conquerors gave rise to
a number of secret sects and societies having for their
object the subversion of Islam, and in the hatred
which already existed between the two great divisions
of that creed, the Sunnis and Shiahs, the leaders and
originators of these sects found a ready means of
securing proselytes and adherents. In the year 815, a
chief named Babek founded a new religious order and
waged an open war against the caliphs, by whom he was,
however, defeated and his followers exterminated. But
while his partisans fell beneath the sword of the execu-
tioner there was living at Ahwas, in the south of Persia,
a certain 'Abdallah, grandson of Daisan the dualist,
who had inherited the hatred which his grandfather
had sworn against the faith and power of the Arabs.
Warned by the fate of Babek's followers, he determined
to undermine insidiously what he could not with safety
openly attack. He accordingly formed a society into
which proselytes were only admitted upon proof, and
after being sworn to the profoundest secrecy. The initia-
tion consisted of seven degrees, in the highest and last of
which he taught — that all religions were mere chimeras
and human actions indifferent. His missionaries spread
over the whole of the East, and carried their peculiar
doctrines into Syria, where one of them, named Ahmed
ibn Eshka'as el Carmati, founded the sect of Carma-
thians, whose history has been already traced. 'Obeid
allah el Mehdi, the founder of the Fatemite dynasty,
was a follower of El Carmati, and from the moment
when El Mehdi made himself master of Egypt the
Carmathian tenets prevailed in that country, under the
name of Ismailiyeh. They were propagated by official
agents, of whom the chief was named Ddl ed Doat,
360 JERUSALEM.
1 missionary of missionaries,' and Cddhi el Codhdt,
'judge of judges.' In the year 1004 they held public
assemblies in Cairo under the presidency of the last-
mentioned officer. These meetings were called mejdlis el
hikmeh, or ' scientific meetings,' and were devoted to
instructing those present in the mathematical and
other sciences ; but such as were considered worthy
were admitted to a more intimate participation in their
mysteries, and were taught the secret doctrines of the
sect, consisting of a strange melange of Persian and
Gnostic ideas.
We have already seen how this institution was made
to subserve the interests and pander to the mad
fanaticism of El Hakem bi amri 'llah, and indirectly
gave birth to the powerful sect of the Druzes.
During the last half of the eleventh century one of
the Ismaelite missionaries, Hassan ibn Subah el
Homairi, became the founder of the new sect of the
Ismaelites of the East, or Assassins. Hassan was
born in Khorassan ; in his youth he contracted an
intimate friendship with Nizam el Mulk and 'Omar el
Khaiyam, and the three associates took a solemn oath
mutually to advance each other's prospects in after life.
'Omar el Khaiyam became celebrated as an astronomer
and poet ;■* and Nizam el Mulk attained to the office
of grand vizier, under the Seljukian Sultan Melik Shah.
Hassan es Subah sought and obtained the assistance
of his former companion, and was promoted to high
office in the court. Prompted, however, by ambition,
he endeavoured to supplant his benefactor, but Nizam
el Mulk discovered and counteracted his designs, and
* His ' Quatrains/ stanzas of exquisite polish, were published by
M. Nicholas, Paris, 1867. He is the poet who of late years (i< r
has so strongly touched certain writers.
THE ASSASSINS. 361
Hassan was driven in disgrace from the king's presence.
Not long afterwards he founded the order of Assassins,
and Melik Shah and his vizier were among the first of
his victims. In 1090 he made himself master of
the fortress of Alamut, built on the summit of a lofty
mountain, with steep escarpments, a little distance from
Casbin in the Persian province of 'Irak. This castle
he fortified and supplied with water, partly from arti-
ficial and partly from natural springs, and, by com-
pelling the inhabitants to cultivate the surrounding
land and store the produce in the subterranean
granaries of the castle, he rendered it capable of sus-
taining a protracted siege.
Although the secret doctrines of the Ismaelites were
taught in nine degrees, there were but two ranks in
the order, namely the refik, or ' companion,' and dd'i,
or ' missionary.' Hassan instituted a third class, that
of the fedawi, or 'devoted one.' For them the secrets
of the order were always covered with an impenetrable
veil, and they were but the blind instruments of ven-
geance or aggression in the hands of their superior.
They composed the bodyguard of the grand master,
and were never for a single moment without their
daggers, so as to be ever ready to perpetrate murders
at his command.
Marco Polo gives us a substantial, and doubtless
exact, account of the ceremonies which took place
upon the initiation of a fedawi into the order. Within
the precincts of their impregnable fortresses were
gardens furnished with all that could delight the eye
or appeal to the sensual taste of the voluptuary. Here
the neophyte was led, delicious meats and wines of
exquisite flavour were set before him, girls as beautiful
as the houris of the prophet's paradise ministered to his
362 JERUSALEM.
pleasures, enchanting music ravished his ears, his every
wish was gratified almost before it was uttered, and,
intoxicated with delight, he fancied that he had really
entered upon the joys of the blessed. An intoxicating
drug had in the meanwhile been mixed with the wine,
and, by producing a sort of delirium, for a time en-
hanced his enjoyment, but as the satiety and languor
consequent upon excess crept over him he fell back
stupefied and insensible, in which state he was carried
out of the place. On awaking he found himself beside
the grand master, who told him that all the joys he
had experienced were but a foretaste of what was
destined for those who yielded implicit obedience to
his commands. The alternative for those who doubted
or hesitated was instant death.
The youth thus ' devoted' to the service of the order
was carefully trained in all the arts of deception and
disguise ; he was taught to speak various languages,
and to assume a variety of dresses and characters ;
and, loosed from all trammels of conscience or of
creed, he went forth, prepared to plunge his dagger
into the breast of his dearest friend, and even into his
own, at his superior's command. Such an association
could not but prove a formidable political agent in
these troublous times, and the sovereigns of the East
feared the secret dagger of the order more than the
armies of their foes, and rendered to the grand master
whatever tribute and homage he chose to demand.
Towards the middle of the twelfth century the power
of the Assassins had extended itself from Khorassan to
the mountains of Syria, from the Mediterranean to the
Caspian. All trembled before it, and submitted more
or less to its will. Hassan died in 1124, after having
chosen for his successor Kia Buzurgumid, one of the
THE ASSASSINS. 363
most strenuous of his Dais ; and the dignity of grand
master became ultimately hereditary in his family.
The order of Assassins continued in its integrity until
1254, when Manjou Khan, grandson of the celebrated
Jenghiz Khan, put an end to its existence. As for the
association of the Ismaelites in Cairo, the Mejdlis el
Hikmeh, or scientific lodges, they were finally suppressed
by Saladin in the year 1171 a.d.
The Grand Master of the Assassins was called simply
Sheikh, 'elder,' or ' chief;' and from his rocky fortresses
sf Alamut and Maziatt he was known as Sheikh el
febel, ' Sheikh of the Mountain.' The Crusaders,
misinterpreting the title, always spoke of him as the
'Old Man of the Mountain.'
There is little doubt but that the order of Knights
Templars, who figure so largely in the history of the
Crusades, became in many respects a society closely
akin to the Assassins. The different grades of rank
amongst them correspond exactly with the several de-
grees of the Ismaelite fraternity. Their dress, white
with a red cross, symbolizing innocence and blood, is
almost identical with the garb of the Fedawis, while
the irreligious practices and secret murders, which
were afterwards clearly proved against them, all tend to
establish the conviction that they were rather Knights
of the Dagger than of the Cross.
Amaury, the poor harassed king, all of whose projects
failed, and none of them through his own fault, fell into
a fit of rage which nearly killed him, when he heard the
news of the murder of the ambassador of the ' Old
Man of the Mountain.' What was to be done ? what
revenge could be taken for a mischief which was
irremediable ? He called his barons, and poured the
364 JERUSALEM.
whole story into their indignant ears. They chose two
of their own body, and sent them to Odo de St.
Amand, Grand Master of the Templars, to demand
satisfaction in the name of the king and the realm for
a crime so extravagant. One Walter du Mesnil was
suspected, a stupid man, likely to do whatever others
told him without inquiry or doubt. And here appears
the pride of the Templars. Odo coldly sent back word
that he had ' imposed a penance' on the criminal, and
that he should send him to the pope. The king went
to Sidon himself, seized the suspected man by force,
and threw him into prison, in spite of the protestations
and fury of Odo. Then followed protest, appeal, and
protest again. Amaury succeeded in making the Old
Man of the Mountain believe in his own innocence,
but the Sheikh's enthusiasm for the religion of Christ
was now quenched, and the opportunity gone by.
The significance of Odo's reply to Amaury lies in his
promise to send the criminal to the pope. Just as the
Templars, from the very beginning, were free from any
episcopal jurisdiction, and owned no authority in eccle-
siastical matters in other than the pope himself, so they
now arrogated to themselves freedom in things tem-
poral. They would have no king but their grand
master, no bishop but the pope ; they would have no
interference in the government of their own castles and
places from any sovereign at all. And this seems to |
have been the main reason — their assumption of in-
dependence — why their destruction was afterwards
determined on by King Philip of France.
In the year 1173* died Nur-ed-din, the greatest man
of Saracen story, next to Saladin.
* According to William of Tyre. Others place his death a year
later.
BENJAMIN OF TUDELA. 365
Directly Amaury heard of his death, he laid siege to
Banias — it will be remembered how Nur-ed-din refused
to take advantage of Baldwin's death — but raised the
siege after a fortnight in consequence of entreaties and
the offer of large sums of money from Nur-ed-din's
widow. On his return he complained of indisposition.
This became worse, and a violent dysentery set in.
They carried him to Jerusalem, where he died, after all
the doctors, Greek, Syrian, and Latin, had been called
in successively. He was then in his thirty-eighth year.
One feels pity for Amaury, more than for any other of
the Kings of Jerusalem. He was, at the same time, so
long-headed and so unlucky ; so capable, yet so unsuc-
cessful ; so patient under all his disasters ; so active in
spite of his corpulence ; so careful of the kingdom, yet
so unpopular ; so harassed with doubts, yet so loyal to
his duty ; and so hopeful in spite of all his disappoint-
ments, that one cannot help admiring and sympathizing
with him. He committed the most gross act of perjury
in invading Egypt on pretence of Shawer's disloyalty.
But he was punished for it by the destruction of the
fairest dream of conquest that ever man had.
For one thing the present writers must, at least, be
thankful to him. He it was who instigated William of
Tyre to write that admirable history from which a large
part of these pages is taken.
In 1 163 the city of Jerusalem was visited by the
Jewish traveller Benjamin of Tudela. He tells the
following curious story concerning the tombs of the
kings. * On Mount Sion are the sepulchres of the
house of David, and those of the kings who reigned
after him. In consequence of the following circum-
stance, however, this place is at present hardly to be
recognised. Fifteen years ago, one of the walls of the
366 JERUSALEM.
place of worship on Mount Sion fell down, and the
patriarch commanded the priest to repair it. He
ordered stones to be taken from the original wall of
Sion for that purpose, and twenty workmen were hired
at stated wages, who broke stones from the very
foundation of the walls of Sion. Two of these
labourers, who were intimate friends, upon a certain
day treated one another, and repaired to their work
after their friendly meal. The overseer accused them
of dilatoriness, but they answered that they would still
perform their day's work, and would employ thereupon
the time while their fellow-labourers were at meals.
They then continued to break out stones, until, happen-
ing to meet with one which formed the mouth of a
cavern, they agreed to enter it in search of treasure,
and they proceeded until they reached a large hall,
supported by pillars of marble, encrusted with gold
and silver, and before which stood a table, with a
golden sceptre and crown. This was the sepulchre of
David, King of Israel, to the left of which they saw
that of Solomon in a similar state, and so on the
sepulchres of all the Kings of Judah, who were buried
there. They further saw chests locked up, the contents
of which nobody knew, and were on the point of enter-
ing the hall, when a blast of wind like a storm issued
forth from the mouth of the cavern so strong that it
threw them down almost lifeless on the ground. There
they lay until evening, when another wind rushed forth,
from which they heard a voice like that of a man
calling aloud, "Get up, and go forth from this place."
The men rushed out full of fear, and proceeded to the
patriarch to report what had happened to them. This
ecclesiastic summoned into his presence R. Abraham el*
Constantini, a pious ascetic, one of the mourners of;
BENJAMIN OF TUDELA. 367
the downfall of Jerusalem, and caused the two labourers
to repeat what they had previously reported. R. Abra-
ham thereupon informed the patriarch that they had
discovered the sepulchres of the house of David and
of the Kings of Judah. The following morning the
labourers were sent for again, but they were found
stretched on their beds and still full of fear ; they
declared that they would not attempt to go again to the
cave, as it was not God's will to discover it to anyone.
The patriarch ordered the place to be walled up, so as to
hide it effectually from everyone unto the present day.
The above-mentioned R. Abraham told me all this.'
To enable the reader better to understand what has
gone before, it will be as well to review the position of
the Turks in Syria during this and the immediately
preceding reigns.
By the taking of Jerusalem, and the flight of its
Egyptian governor, El Afdhal, the kingdom of Syria
was lost for ever to the Fatemite Caliphs. They yet
retained possession of Egypt, but the remaining princes
of the house were mere tools in the hands of designing
ministers, and gave themselves up to luxurious ease in
their palaces at Cairo. Nor were their opponents, the
'Abbassides, in much better case, but lingered idly on
in Baghdad, wielding the shadow of their former power,
while rival vassals fought and struggled for the substance.
The Seljukian sultans, after lording it over their'im-
perial masters, had shared the same fate ; and, having
yielded themselves up to the enticements of luxury and
wealth, were in turn tyrannized over by their more
vigorous Turkish slaves the Atabeks. The founder of
this family, a favourite slave of Melik Shah, had been
promoted to the governorship of Aleppo, but perished in
the civil disorders consequent on the death of the sultan
368 JERUSALEM.
and the final division of the Seljukian kingdom. His
son Zanghi did good service against the Franks at
Antioch, and was rewarded by the caliph with the
sovereignty of Aleppo and Mosul. His career was one
of uninterrupted success, and in a comparatively short
space of time he had taken Edessa, and wrested from
the Franks their possessions beyond the Euphrates.
His son Nur-ed-din completed the work which his
father had begun ; he once more raised the prestige of
the Mohammedan name, and added the kingdom of;
Damascus to that of Aleppo and Edessa, which he had
inherited. Christian and Mohammedan authors alike
testify to the uprightness and integrity of his character,
to his impartial justice, and to the austere simplicity ofl
his manners. He rigorously proscribed the use of;
wine, he wore neither gold nor silk, and on one occa-
sion when his favourite wife requested indulgence of:
some feminine fancy, he bestowed upon her ' three
shops in the city of Hums,' alleging that he had no
other private property, and that he dared not alienate
the public funds, which he considered as a sacred trust.!
He is usually designated by Moslem writers by the title
of Shehid the Martyr, not because he fell fighting for
the faith, but because his life was spent in one con-
tinuous series of holy works.
The Frank occupation of Syria and the Holy Land
had spread dismay throughout the whole of Islam ; in
their distress the followers of the prophet turned to
Damascus, and saw in the rising greatness of its
sovereign a fresh hope of retrieving their fortunes.
Nur-ed-din did indeed become the instrument of the
final overthrow and expulsion of the Christians ; but a
slight digression is necessary to explain the circum-
stances which led to his introduction upon the scene.
SHIRKOH. 369
Dargham and Shawer, rival aspirants to the dignity
of prime minister to El "Adhid le din Allah, last of the
Fatemite caliphs of Egypt, had, by their struggles for
power, involved that country in civil war. Shawer,
finding himself unable to cope with his more powerful
foe, applied for assistance to Nur-ed-din, who sent
Esed-ed-din Shirkoh, governor of Edessa, with a large
army into Egypt. Dargham was defeated and slain,
and the victorious Shirkoh claimed for his master Nur-
ed-din the reward which Shawer himself had proposed,
namely, a third of the revenues of the country ; and, on
payment being delayed, proceeded to occupy Bilbeis,
the capital of the eastern province, as security.
Shawer, as perfidious as he was ambitious, invited
Amaury, King of Jerusalem, to aid him in ejecting his
creditor. Shirkoh was obliged to relinquish Bilbeis ;
but having received reinforcements from Damascus, he
speedily returned, marched upon Cairo, and defeated the
troops of the Fatemite caliph, and made himself master
of Upper Egypt. His nephew Yusuf had been, in the
meantime, sent against Alexandria, which place he
captured, and gallantly defended for more than three
months, against the combined forces of the Egyptians
and Crusaders. At last, both the Christian and
Damascene troops consented to evacuate Egypt, on
consideration of receiving each a large sum annually
out of the revenues ; and articles of peace were solemnly
drawn up, and ratified by all the contending parties ;
the Crusaders were, moreover, allowed to maintain a
garrison at Cairo, ostensibly for the purpose of protect-
ing the Egyptian Government from aggression on the
part of Nur-ed-din. Fortunate would it have been for the
Christian kingdom of Jerusalem had Amaury held to
his agreement ; but the favourable terms which had
24
37o JERUSALEM.
been accorded him inspired him with an undue con-
fidence in his own strength, and, blind alike to his
interests and his honour, he determined upon a fresh
invasion. Accordingly, in the latter end of the year
1168, he led an army into Egypt, took possession of
Bilbeis, and marched upon Cairo. The greatest con-
sternation prevailed in the capital at the treacherous
conduct of the Christian monarch, and the savage
cruelty of his troops. Cairo was hastily surrounded
with a wall and fortifications, and the old city was set
on fire at the approach of the invaders, the conflagra-
tion raging for fifty-four days. In this extremity the
Egyptian caliph piteously besought Nur-ed-din to lend
him his aid ; and, in order still further to excite his
compassion, and depict the miserable plight to which
they were reduced, and the danger to which they were
exposed from the unbridled licentiousness of the
invaders, El "Adhid enclosed locks of his women's hair
in the letter which contained his appeal. Shawer, in
the meantime, endeavoured to avert the immediate
calamity by making terms with Amaury, and the latter,
dreading the arrival of the Damascene reinforcements,
consented to raise the siege on receiving an indemnity
of a million dinars; a hundred thousand were paid
down in ready money, and the Crusaders retired, in
order to give the vizier time to collect the remainder^
Nur-ed-din, on receipt of El "Adhid's letter, at once
despatched Shirkoh to the relief of Cairo, with an armj
of eight thousand men, six thousand of whom wen
Syrians, and the remainder Turks, and a sum of twq
hundred thousand dinars, as well as a large supply o
clothes, arms, horses, and provisions. Shirkoh requester
his nephew Yusuf Salah-ed-din (Saladin) to accompany
him upon this expedition ; but the latter, remembering
DEA TH OF SUA WER. 37 1
the difficulties and dangers he had experienced at
Alexandria, begged to be excused, and was only in-
duced to accept a commission by an exercise of authority
on the part of the sultan Nur-ed-din. El"Adhid met
Shirkoh on his arrival with every mark of respect and
gratitude and conferred upon him a magnificent robe of
honour. The vizier Shawer was also a frequent visitor
to the Damascene general's tent ; and assured the
latter that although appearances had been against him,
he had not willingly broken faith with him, and
promised that the former agreement to pay Nur-ed-din
a third of the revenue should now be complied with.
At the same time he was plotting how he might best
dispose of so troublesome a visitor ; and, having deter-
mined upon his assassination, invited Shirkoh, his
nephew, and the rest of his staff, to a banquet, at which
he hoped to execute his treacherous project. Saladin,
however, received intelligence of the conspiracy, and
prevented his uncle from accepting the fatal invitation.
Shawer, furious at being thus foiled, sought the tent of
Shirkoh, under pretence of a friendly visit, and would
doubtless have murdered him had he not fortunately
been at that moment on a visit to the tomb of the
:elebrated Mohammedan saint Es Shaft 'i.* Returning
from his fruitless visit, Shawer was met by Saladin and
tiis party, who threw him from his horse, and carried him
to Shirkoh's camp. El f/ Adhid, on hearing the news,
sent to demand the head of his treacherous vizier,
vvhom he justly regarded as the cause of all the troubles
:hat had recently fallen upon Egypt. Shirkoh gladly
icceded to the request, and was installed by the
* The version of this event given by William of Tyre has been
ilready quoted ; the Mohammedan authors from which the fore-
going account is taken regard it in a somewhat different light.
24 — 2
372 JERUSALEM.
Fatemite caliph into the vacant post of prime minister,
and received the honorary title of El Melik el Mansur,
' the Victorious King,' and Emir el Jayush, ' Com-
mander-in-chief of the Forces.' He did not, however,
live long to enjoy his newly-acquired dignity, but died
within two months and four days after his appoint-
ment. He was succeeded by his nephew Salah-ed-
din Yusuf ibn Aiyub (the Saladin of European his-
torians), whose life and exploits we shall relate in a
future chapter.
CHAPTER XIII.
KING BALDWIN THE LEPER. A.D. II73 — Il86.
1 Would I were dead, if God's good will were so,
For. what is in this world but grief and woe ?'
King Henry VI.
The only son of Amaury, by his first wife Agnes,
daughter of the younger Jocelyn of Edessa, was placed,
at the age of nine years, under the charge of William
oi Tyre. He was a studious, bright boy, and at first
raised the highest hopes of his future. But his tutor
discovered by accident that he was afflicted with that
dreadful and incurable disease which was beginning to
3e so prevalent among the Syrian Christians. In his
boyish sports with the children of his own age, his
:utor remarked that when the boys pinched each other
n the arm, little Baldwin alone was able to bear the pain
vithout any cry or apparent emotion. This awakened
lis suspicions, and he took the child to be examined by
)hysicians. It was found that his right arm, of which
le had appeared to have perfect command, was half
)aralyzed. All sorts of fomentations and frictions were
ried, but all proved fruitless, and it was soon apparent
hat the future king was a confirmed leper. Day
>y day the disease gained ground, seizing on his hands
.nd feet, and gradually gaining hold of his whole body.
ie was handsome, too, and an accomplished horseman,
>assionately fond of reading history and hearing the
374 JERUSALEM.
stories of valiant knights, like his father and uncle. In
person he exactly resembled his father, and, like him,
he was troubled with an impediment of speech.
He was thirteen when his father died, and four days
after that event he was crowned in the Church of the
Sepulchre with all the ceremonies customary at this
important event. The regency was at first confided to
Milo de Plancy, in spite of the opposition made by
Raymond, who pleaded vainly his relationship to the
king, his long services, and the importance of his
dignity as Count of Tripoli. Milo was a native of
Champagne, and a distant cousin of King Amaury.
He was popular, because he was prodigal of promises,
and full of that bravoure which catches the eyes of the
people. But he was arrogant, presumptuous, and full
of ambition. Drawing upon himself the hatred of all
the barons by his manifest contempt for them, he was
set upon one night, by order of some unknown person,
probably one of the barons, and murdered, after which
Raymond succeeded as regent with no opposition;
Raymond had spent nine years of his life in prison a'
Aleppo, and had employed the dreary years of hn
captivity in study, so that he was learned above th<!j
generality of laymen. He was a man of courage h\
action, of prudence, and of extreme sobriety in life j
To strangers he was generous and affable : to his owijj
people he was neither one nor the other.
An important change had meantime occurred in th'
fortunes of Saladin. The death of Nur-ed-din left hi;
kingdom to a boy, named Malek-es-Saleh, who wa!
received as his successor, while the Emir, Abu Mokad;
dem was appointed regent. But the new regent gav
little satisfaction to the people, and a secret messag
was sent to Saladin urging him to come to Damascu: i
MARRIAGE OF SYBILLE. 375
and take the regency. He went, Abu Mokaddem him-
*self yielding to the storm, and inviting him to take the
reins of office. He very soon became master of the
situation, and marrying the widow of Nur-ed-din, he
assumed the title of Sultan, and henceforth ruled the
East. During the settlement of his affairs there was
comparative peace for the kingdom, what little fighting
went on being mostly in favour of the Christians. The
Emperor of Constantinople, however, experienced, near
Iconium, a defeat so disastrous than any help from that
quarter was not to be looked for, and Manuel himself,
heart-broken at the loss of his splendid army, and the
capture and ill-treatment of his brother, never re-
covered his cheerfulness : the memory of his misfortune
perpetually troubling him and depriving him of all
repose and tranquillity of spirit.
In the third year of the king's reign arrived in Jeru-
salem William Longsword, son of the Marquis of
Montferrand. He had been invited to marry Sybille,
sister of the king, and a few weeks after his arrival the
marriage was celebrated. The greatest hopes were
entertained of this prince. He was strong, brave, and
generous. He was of the noblest descent, his father
having been maternal uncle to King Philip of France,
and his mother being the sister of Conrad. He had
grave faults, however : he could not keep any counsel,
but was perpetually prating of his projects ; he was
passionate and irascible to the last degree, and he was
addicted to intemperance in eating and drinking.
This probably proved fatal to him, for he died three
or four months after his marriage, leaving his wife
pregnant.
This was another calamity to the kingdom, which
was sorely in want of a man strong enough to organize
376 JERUSALEM.
a combined stand against the rising power of Saladin.
Philip, Count of Flanders, who came to make an ex-"
piatory pilgrimage, was next received with hope, and
the king offered him the command of all his forces ;
but Philip failed in the single enterprise he undertook,
and returned home with little addition to his glory.
While Raymond, the regent, was with Philip in the
north, Saladin, who had returned to Egypt, led one of
his periodical incursions into Palestine, and fell to
ravaging and pillaging the south country. Baldwin,
leper as he was, did not want courage. If he could not
fight, he could at least go out with his men. He had
with him Raymond, who had hastened to join him ;
Count Jocelyn, his uncle, son of Jocelyn the younger,
and three hundred and seventy-five knights in all. It
was judged prudent at first to retire to Ascalon, but the
people grew so infuriated at the sight of the destruc-
tion of their pioperty, that the little Christian army
went out to attack the mighty force of Saladin. It was
the last of those wonderful battles where the Christians,
frightfully overmatched, bore down their enemies by
sheer bodily strength, and carried the day in spite of
numbers. The historian puts down Saladin's army at
twenty-six thousand, besides many thousands of light-
armed men. Of course, the number is exaggerated,
but there can be no doubt of the paucity of the Chris-
tian army and the victory won by Baldwin. Saladin
escaped with a hundred horsemen in all, mounted on a
camel ; his men were dispersed in all directions ; heavy
storms of rain, and an intensity of cold, to which they
were unaccustomed, fell upon them in the desert, and
the Bedawin, learning their misfortunes, plundered and
murdered them. But the Christians were too weak to :
follow up the victory by invading Egypt, and con-
GUY DE LUSIGNAN. 377
tented themselves with building a fort at the ford over
the Jordan. They also took the opportunity of a little
leisure to repair the walls of Jerusalem, which were
now crumbling to pieces. And at this time died stout
old Humphrey, Constable of the kingdom, after a life
spent in incessant conflicts. His death was a great
loss to the kingdom, which could not now spare a
single man. And after a grievous defeat near Banias,
where Odo, the Grand Master of the Templars, was
taken prisoner, the king concluded a treaty of peace
with Saladin.
Baldwin's disease had now assumed its most violent
form. He could use neither hand nor foot, he was half-
blind, and rapidly losing his eyesight altogether. But
he clung to the crown, and learning that the Count of
Tripoli was coming to Jerusalem with a large following,
he feared that his intention was to depose him, and
hastened to marry his sister Sybille, widow of William
Longsword, to Guy of Lusignan. It was an unfortunate
marriage, for Guy had no virtue of any kind. He was
handsome and personally courageous, but quite unfit
for the burden that this position threw upon him.
And now everything went wrong. There was no
longer any self-restraint, any concord, any noble aims
among the Christian knights. The patriarch himself,
Heraclius, led openly a life of flagrant immorality ; the
Count of Antioch, Bohemond, a degraded descendant
of the great Bohemond, divorced his wife without any
grounds, and married a woman of ill-repute : Raymond
of Tripoli quarrelled with the king ; on all sides were
drinking, dicing, vice, and self-indulgence. Nothing
was more certain than that the fall of the kingdom
was a matter of time only, and Saladin, taking ad-
vantage of the treaty, which was as useful to him as it
37% JERUSALEM.
was necessary to the Christians, was training his men
for the final effort by which he was to win Jerusalem.
Renaud de Chatillon, the restless adventurer who
had married Constance of Antioch, was the actual
cause of the fall of the kingdom. His wife being dead,
and her son become the Count of Antioch, he married
again, this time the widow of Humphrey the Constable.
By his second marriage he became the seigneur of
Kerak and other castles situated beyond the Jordan.
He had with him a large number of Templars, and
when the treaty with Saladin was concluded, he
announced his intention of not being bound by it, and
continued his predatory excursions. Saladin com-
plained to Baldwin, but the hapless king was powerless.
Then Saladin arrested eighteen hundred pilgrims, who
had been wrecked on the shores of Egypt, and declared
his intention of keeping them in irons until Renaud
gave up his Mohammedan prisoners. Renaud and the
Templars only laughed at the threats of Saladin, and
went on as before. The treaty being thus openly
broken, Saladin had no other alternative but to recom-
mence hostilities, but after ravaging Galilee and laying
siege to Beyrout, the affairs of his own kingdom
compelled him to retire, in order to make war with the
Attabegs, masters of Mossoul.
Guy, meantime, too weak for the position he held,
had not been able to prevent Saladin's ravages in
Galilee, and when the sultan attacked the fortress of
Kerak could not go out to the assistance of Renaud.
Yielding to the pressure of his barons, the king de-
prived Guy of the regency, and associated his nephew,
a child of five years old, with him on the throne,
under the title of Baldwin V. Poor little Baldwin V.
died very soon after, however, and had very little
HERACLIUS IN EUROPE. 379
enjoyment of his dignity. He was the son of William
Longsword and Sybille. Baldwin then summoned
Guy de Lusignan before him to answer for his many
sins of omission. Guy refused to obey, and took refuge
in Ascalon, of which he was count. The king, who
was now quite blind, was carried to that city, and
personally summoned him to surrender. The gates
were closed. Baldwin, thinking they would not dare
to refuse him admission, knocked at the gate with his
own helpless hands. But no answer was given. Then
the poor blind king, impotent in his rage, called
Heaven to witness the outrage to his authority, and
was carried back to Jerusalem, swearing to punish the
audacity of Guy. All he could do was to deprive him
of his dignities, and to hand the regency over to
Raymond of Tripoli.
In the desolated state of the country, nothing could
be thought of, but, as usual, to send to Europe for
help. The patriarch Heraclius, the Grand Master of
the Temple, and the Grand Master of the Hospitallers,
were sent on an urgent embassy to ask for help. They
went first to Rome. The Pope had been driven out of
Rome, and was now at Verona, trying to re-establish
peace throughout the whole of Christendom. With
him was Frederic, Emperor of Germany. They next
went to France. Philip Augustus received them with
every kind of distinction, but would promise no help.
He had only recently mounted the throne, and his own
affairs required care. Next, and as a last resource,
they went to England. Henry II. was full of domestic
trouble at the time. He had taken, he acknowledged,
an oath to defend the kingdom of Jerusalem, but he
could not go now, it was impossible ; he would, how-
ever, help them with treasure. The patriarch lost his
380 JERUSALEM.
temper at this, the last of the repeated refusals. ' You
were sworn,' he cried, ' to take your army to the Holy
Land. Ten years have passed without your doing
anything to redeem your promise. You have deceived
God : know you not what God reserves for those who
refuse to serve Him ? I see,' he went on, ' that I am
exciting your wrath ; but you may treat me as you
treated my brother, Thomas of Canterbury ; it is all the
same to me whether I die in Syria by the hand of
infidels, or whether I am murdered by you, more cruel
than any Saracen.' Henry took no notice of these
angry words, declared his resolution not to abandon
the kingdom, and allowed those of his subjects who
wished to take the Cross. But the zeal for crusading
had died out, and very few went to defend the Church
of the Sepulchre.
As for the kingdom of Jerusalem, it was fast totter-
ing to its fall. The country* was dotted over with
castles and strongholds, the owners of which had
learned, since the death of Amaury, to despise the
authority of the king. Moreover, the pride and power
of the Templars set up a sort of rival authority.
Every baron fought for his own land and for his own ag-
grandizement. There was no more thought of conquest
and glory ; they fought now for plunder only. When
pilgrims arrived from the West they were made use of
by the Syrian barons for their own purposes; and
when they were strong enough to fight the Saracens,
no treaty was sacred, no convention was kept. The
cities, especially those of the sea-shore, were divided
into nations, such as the Pisans, the Genoese, and the
Venetians, all of whom contended with each other over
their privileges, and often fought out their quarrels in
* See Michaud, vol. ii., p. 306.
LAST DA YS OF THE KINGDOM. 381
the streets. The Templars and the Hospitallers bar-
gained for their arms by demanding the cession of
half a town, or a fort, in return for their services. They
quarrelled Avith each other, with the Church, and with
the king. And with the depravation of morals had
come a total neglect and contempt of religion, with —
of which there are not a few traces — the birth of an
active spirit of infidelity. Men had begun to question
and to compare. There were not wanting renegades
to be found among the Mohammedan armies. Islam
received its converts from the Christians, but it gave
back none in return.
The Crusaders had embarked upon an enterprise
which rested on religious enthusiasm. Religion was
the salt of the kingdom which they founded. While
this lasted — it lasted till the reign of Baldwin III.
— there was hope. When this died — it died in the
reign of Amaury — the kingdom was lost. Every baron
and every soldier was in a sense a special soldier
of Christ, a kind of lay priest of the altar. He had
ever before his eyes those sacred places at sight of
which his fathers had wept aloud. But the handling of
sacred things is profitable only so long as the heart is
open to their influences. To the impure the most holy
things are a mockery, the highest aims are a subject of
derision. And just as a worthless priest is generally
worse than a worthless layman, because he has
deadened his conscience more, and religion, a familiar
thing, has no longer any power to move his soul, so the
degenerate soldiers of Jerusalem were worse than their
fellows, coarse, rude, and sensual though these might
be, beyond the sea, because for them there was nothing
left which was able to touch their hearts.
Our history of the Christian kingdom draws to a
382 JERUSALEM.
close. In the midst of these troubles, the miserable
king, who had mercifully been deprived of his senses,
for the disease, when it has devoured the fingers and
toes, and eaten into the vigour and strength of a man,
fastens mysteriously on his intellect, and devours that
too, died, or rather ceased to breathe, and was buried
with his fathers. We are not told what epitaph was
chosen for him. Surely, of all men, on Baldwin's
tomb might have been carved the word ' Miserrimus.'
Little Baldwin V. died a day after his uncle,
poisoned, as was supposed, by his mother and Guy
de Lusignan. It is possible. The women whom
Baldwin II. left behind him, his daughters Milicent,
Alice, Hodierne, were bad themselves, and the mothers
of worse daughters. Of Sybille we can say little, except
that she was known to have had a guilty love for Guy
before their marriage — the king was actually uncertain
at one time whether to stone to death his sister's para-
mour, or to make him her husband ! — that she was
completely under his rule, and that she was ambitious,
bold, and intriguing.
CHAPTER XIV.
KING GUY DE LUSIGNAN. A.D. Il86, I187.
1 Heu ! voce flebili cogor enarrare
Facinus quod accidit nuper ultra mare,
Quando Saladino concessum est vastare
Terram quam dignatus est Christus sic amare.'
Contejnporary Poem.
When the little King Baldwin had been buried,*
Sybille went to the patriarch, the Grand Master of the
Templars, and the Grand Master of the Hospitallers,
to ask their advice and assistance. The first two bade
her be under no anxiety, because they would pro-
cure her coronation, the former out of love for her
mother, the Lady Agnes, and the latter out of the
great hatred he bore for Raymond of Tripoli. And
they advised her to send at once for Renaud de
Ghatillon, as a man likely to be of great service to her.
Unluckily for Renaud, he came. At the same time
she was to send to the Count of Tripoli and the
barons, summoning them to her coronation, because
the crown had devolved upon her. These, however,
refused to be present, and sent a formal protestation
against the coronation. Heraclius and the Master of
the Templars laughed at the protest, but the Master of
the Hospitallers refused to attend the ceremony. The
* The history of William of Tyre, from which a large part of the
preceding account of the Christian kingdom has been taken, ends
abruptly just before the death of Baldwin. The materials for this
chapter are mainly taken from Bernard the Treasurer.
384 JERUSALEM.
gates of the city were shut, and no one allowed to
enter or go out. The barons, who were at Nablous,
sent a trustworthy messenger, disguised as a monk, to
see what went on. Denied admittance at the gates, he
went to the lazar-house, which was close to the walls,
and where he knew of a little postern. Here he
was admitted, and, like a modern reporter, went to the
church and took notes of the proceedings. The Queen
elect was brought into the church by Renaud and the
Master of the Templars. The patriarch asked the
latter for his key — there were three — of the treasury,
where were laid up the crowns. He gave it up. Next
he asked the Master of the Hospitallers for his. He re-
fused to give it up. Now, without the three keys,
those in the hands of the grand master and that kept
by the patriarch, the coronation could not proceed, for
the simple reason that the crown and sceptre were not
to be got at. The Master of the Hospitallers, when
they pressed him, declared that he had hidden the key.
They searched for it, but could not find it. Then they
pressed him again, the coronation ceremony waiting all
this time in the church, until, in a rage, he dashed his
key down on the ground, and told them that they might
do as they pleased.
The patriarch brought out two crowns : one he
placed on the altar, the other he placed on the head of
Sybille. When she was crowned he said to her, ' Lady,
you are a woman, and it is fitting that you have with
you a man, who may aid you to govern the realm.
Take this crown, and bestow it upon one capable of
ruling.'
It must be mentioned that, previous to her corona-
tion, Sybille, in the hope of conciliating the barons, j
had announced her intention of getting a divorce from
THE BARON'S DISCONTENT. 385
her husband. In this hope she was deceived, for not
one was present. There was therefore no occasion for
further pretence. Taking the crown, she called Guy de
Lusignan, and said to him, ' Sir, advance and receive
this crown, for I know not how better to bestow it.'
He knelt before her, she placed the crown upon his
head, and so Guy de Lusignan became King of
Jerusalem, the only incapable king the little kingdom
had, the only worthless king. When his brother
Geoffrey heard of the election, he remarked, ' If they
have made him a king, I suppose they would have made
me a god had they known me.'
When the spy got back to Nablous, and told what
had happened, Baldwin of Ramleh offered to lay a
wager that he would not be king for a year, a bet which
he would have won, as the event proved.
' As for me,' said Baldwin, ' the country is lost, and I
shall go, because I do not wish to share the shame and
disgrace of having assisted in the ruin of our kingdom.
And for you, my lords, do what you please.'
' Sir Baldwin,' cried Raymond, ' have pity on Chris-
tianity and remain to help us. Here is Count Humphry
with his wife Isabelle, also the daughter of King Amaury.
Let us go to Jerusalem and crown them there. We
shall have with us at least all the knights of St. John.
And I have a truce with the Saracens, who will even
help us if we want them.'
It was decided to make Humphry king ; but
Humphry had no mind for a crown which brought
with it so many anxieties and troubles as that of
Jerusalem. In the dead of night he rode off to Queen
Sybille ; and when the barons came to crown him in
the morning, they found to their great disgust that he
was gone.
25
J86 JERUSALEM.
He went straight to his sister-in-law, and, being
brought into her presence, saluted her as queen. But
she took no notice of him, because he had not been
present at her coronation. ' Whereupon Humphry
began to scratch his head like a child that is ashamed
of himself, and said, " Dame ! I could not. Why, they
wanted to make me king in spite of myself. That is
why I ran away !'"
Evidently a simple, straightforward knight, this
Humphry of Toron, and of sound, rather than brilliant,
parts.
' Since it is so,' said the queen, ' I have no longer any
animosity towards you. But first do homage to the
king.'
Which Humphry did.
The barons, acting on the advice of Raymond, were
not slow in coming to tender their allegiance, with the
exception of Sir Baldwin of Ramleh, who only sent his
little son, praying Guy to receive his homage, which the
king refused to do. Thereupon Baldwin came himself,
and went through the necessary forms, saying, ' Sir
Guy, I do you homage, but as a man who would rather
not hold lands under you.'
It was for his son's sake, for the knight would not
remain any longer in the country, and went away, ' to
the great joy of the Saracens.'
Raymond, meantime, was gone to Tiberias, where he
waited to see what would happen. The first thing that
happened was a succession of signs from heaven,
manifestly importing disaster. As they happened on
Mohammedan soil as well as Christian, it is presumed
that the followers of Islam interpreted them in a con-
trary spirit. There were tempests and impetuous
winds, hail as big as hens' eggs, earthquakes, great
PORTENTS AND OMENS. 387
waves, and rades de mer, while fire ran across the
heavens, ' and you would have sworn that all the
elements were wrathful, detesting the excesses and
vices of man.' It will be observed that even in portents
there is a decadence in the Christian kingdom. Time
was when knights in armour assailed cities in the
heavens, and when great comets blazed in the east like
swords hanging over a doomed country. We fall back
now on hail and storm.
Raymond called in Saladin on learning that it was
the king's intention to besiege Tiberias. Saladin was
glad of an excuse, and sent his son in command of a
small army — Bernard says of seven thousand.*
The Grand Master of the Templars went out to meet
them. He had in all one hundred and forty knights
with whom to confront this host. The knights fought, as
they always did, gallantly and bravely ; so bravely
that they perished almost to a man, only the Master
himself and a very few escaping. One knight, Jacques
de Maille, a Templar, performed such prodigies of
valour that after he had fallen, the Turks cut up his
garments and divided them, in memory of so valiant a
man. It was in May that this disaster happened, the
result of internal dissension. ' And in this month,' says
a chronicler, ' when it is most fitting that roses should
be gathered, the people of Nazareth went out to gather
together the dead bodies of their valiant knights, and
to give them burial.'
The Master of the Templars had got hastily back to
Nazareth, and sent out messengers in all directions that
he had gotten a signal victory over the Turks, and that
all who wanted booty must hasten to his standard.
They all flocked to him like vultures, at the mention of
* Others say five hundred, which is more probable.
25—2
388 JERUSALEM.
booty, and he led them to the field where the dead
bodies of his knights lay, the flower of the two orders.
It is the keenest sarcasm on the cowardice and mean-
ness of the people that we read of.
' Pudet hsec opprobria nobis
Et dici potuisse et non potuisse refelli.'
But after this misfortune, further quarrels between
king and barons were useless, and Raymond hastened
to make his submission. He met the king at the
Castle of St. George, at Ramleh, where a reconciliation
was effected, real and complete, so far as Raymond was
concerned, half-hearted and suspicious on the part of
the weak-minded king.
Raymond, whose advice was generally sound, recom-
mended Guy to convoke all the forces of his disposition,
and meet at the fountain of Sefuriyeh. He also advised
that the wood of the Cross should be brought out by
Heraclius, as the emergency was great. Heraclius,
who was afraid, and probably foresaw disaster, declined
to come, alleging illness, but sent it by two of his
bishops.
Meantime, the king, by permission of the Master of
the Templars, had laid hands upon the treasure which
Henry II. of England had sent year by year, since the
death of Thomas-a-Becket, to be used when he should
find time to accomplish his vow of a crusade. By
means of this money Guy found himself, when Saladin
sat down before Tiberias, at the head of the finest
army which had marched under the banner of the
Cross since Godfrey besieged Jerusalem. The Countess
of Tripoli was in Tiberias, with her four sons, all
knights. She wrote to Guy, saying that unless as-
sistance came she must surrender the place. Guy
LA ST EXPEDITION FROM JERUSALEM. 389
called a council and read the letter. Raymond was
the first to advise.
' Sir,' he said, 'let them take Tiberias, and I will tell
you why. The city is mine, and my wife is in it ; if it
is lost, no one, therefore, will lose so much as I. But
if the Saracens take it, they will occupy it, and will not
come here after us, and then I shall get it back again
whenever I please. Now, I prefer to lose my city for a
time than that the whole country should be lost, and
between this place and Tiberias there is not a drop of
water. We shall all die of thirst before we get there.'
Thereupon, quoth the Master of the Templars,
' Here is some of the hair of the wolf.' But Raymond
took no notice of this offensive remark. ' If it is not
exactly as I have said,' he went on, ' take my head and
cut it off.'
All agreed that the advice given was sound and just,
except the Master of the Templars, who in his blind
rage against Raymond could not agree that anything
he said was right. And in the night he went to the
king's tent, just as he was going to bed. ' Do you
believe,' he said, ' in the advice of Raymond ? It was
given for the sole purpose of bringing shame and
disgrace upon us all. . . . Strike your tents, call to
arms, and march at once.'
The king, who owed to this man his crown, and the
money with which the army was raised, obeyed
immediately, and to the grief and surprise of the
barons, the order was given to break up the camp.
And on this sad night, the 1st of July, 1187, the
Christian host marched in silence and sadness to its
fate.
The Count of Tripoli led the first division ; in the
centre was the king with the Holy Cross, borne by the
39o JERUSALEM.
Bishops of Acre and Lydda ; and the Templars, with
Balian of Ibelin, brought up the rear. The whole
army consisted of twelve hundred knights, a con-
siderable body of light horse, and about twenty
thousand foot. The words of Count Raymond proved
exactly true : there was no water at all on the way.
The Christians were harassed by the Turkish cavalry,
by the heat of the day, by the clouds of dust, and by
the burning of the grass under their feet, which was
set fire to by the enemy as they marched along. They
halted for the night, and the camp of the Saracens was
so close to that of the Christians that ' you could have
seen a cat run from one to the other.' It was a night
of dreadful suffering for want of water, and when the
morning dawned some of those who could bear their
sufferings no longer went over to the camp of Saladin 5
and threw down their arms, begging for a drink of
water. ' Sir,' said one of these deserters to Saladin,
' fall on them — they cannot help themselves — they are
all dead already.' King Guy, in hopes of ending the
sufferings of his men by victory, gave the signal for
the battle to commence. It was lost as soon as begun,
for men who had not quenched their thirst for nearly
four-and-twenty hours had no Mast' in them. The
knights, as usual, fought manfully, but even these soon
gave way. All round them was an arid plain or arid
rocks, while beneath their feet, and hardly a mile
away, lay the calm and placid Lake of Galilee,
mocking their thirst by the serenity of its aspect.
The Holy Cross was lost in the midst of the fight,
and when the news went through the army there was
no longer any hope. Some tossed away their arms
and sat down to be killed or to be taken prisoners ;
some threw themselves upon the swords of the
BATTLE OF TIBERIAS.
391
Mohammedans. A little band of a hundred and fifty
knights gathered round the royal standard and defended
the king to the last. Raymond, with Balian of Ibelin,
and a few more, cut their way through, and escaped to
Tyre ; but at last all resistance ceased, and King Guy,
his brother Geoffrey, with Renaud de Chatillon, the
Grand Master of the Templars, and all the chivalry of
Palestine that were not killed, were taken prisoners
and brought before Saladin.
SEA OF GALILEE.
As for the wood of the Holy Cross, a very old story
is told. Some years after the battle of Tiberias
had been fought and lost, it is said that a brother
of the Temple came to Henry, Count of Cham-
pagne, and told him that, in order to save it from
falling into the hands of the Saracens, he had him-
self buried it with his own hands, and that he knew
where to look for it. He took with him certain
men to help in digging, and they searched for three
392 JERUSALEM.
consecutive nights, but failed to find it. So, that for a
time, there was an end of one mischievous imposture
at least.
And now the highest ambition of Saladin was to be
crowned with success. Of all the holy places of his
religion, only one was more sacred than Jerusalem. It
was destined for him to restore that sacred Dome of the
Rock, which Abdel Melek had built, to the purposes for
which it was built, and to remove from the midst of the
Mohammedan Empire that hornets' nest of Christians
which, for nearly a hundred years, had checked their
conquests, insulted their faith, and perpetually done
them injury.
The gates of the cities of Palestine flew open at the
approach of the conqueror. Tiberias yielded at once,
and Saladin sent Raymond's wife to her husband,
Raymond, however, was dying, and of a broken heart.
Almost alone among the chiefs, he had still some
nobility left, and he could not bear to survive the fall
of the country, his countty, and the end of so many
high hopes and glorious achievements. Acre resisted
two days, and then opened its gates. Nablous,
Ramleh, Caesarea, Jericho, Jaffa, Beyrout, had no
knights left to make defence with, and perforce
capitulated. Tyre, Tripoli, Ascalon, alone remained
to the Christians. Saladin vainly attempted the first,
and desisted from the siege for more important matters.
But Ascalon was too necessary, in consequence of its
communications with Egypt, to be passed over, and he
laid siege to the place in due form. Guy was with
him, in fetters. A breach was effected in the walls,
and Guy was put forward to urge upon the inhabitants
not to make a useless resistance. These sent deputies
to the sultan. 'On these conditions only shall you
BALIAN' S PERJURY. 393
enter Ascalon, except across our bodies. Give life to
our wives and children, and restore the king to liberty.
Else we will fight.' Saladin granted the conditions.
Guy was to be set at liberty within a year ; the people
of Ascalon were to leave the city freely and to carry
with them all that they pleased.
And now, at length, came the turn of Jerusalem.
Balian of Ibelin had obtained of Saladin a safe conduct
to the city, in order to take out his wife and children,
but on the sole condition that he was not to stay there
more than one night. He promised, and went. He
found the city defended by women and monks. A few
pilgrims were there, and some fugitive soldiers who
had escaped the slaughter of Tiberias. The people
pressed round him with tears, cries, and lamentations,
when he told them of his word given to Saladin. ' Sir,'
said the patriarch, * I absolve you from your oath ;
know well it would be a greater sin to keep it than to
break it, for great shame would it be for you and for
your heirs, if you were thus to leave the city in its hour
of danger.' Then Balian of Ibelin yielded, and sent
to Saladin that he had been forced to break his word.
Saladin by this time was used to the perjury of Chris-
tians.
For some years the Mohammedans, simple in their
faith, could not understand a religion which per-
mitted the most solemn treaties to be broken when-
ever a priest could be prevailed on to give absolution
for the perjury. But they were wiser now. Raymond
and Jocelyn, Renaud and Amaury, had taught them
the worth of a Christian's promise, the value of a
Christian's oath. Still, in Balian's case there was
much to be said. It was not in human nature to
resist the pleadings of the women and the sight of all
394 JERUSALEM.
these helpless beings whose fate seemed placed in his
hands.
There were only two knights in all the city. Balian
knighted fifty sons of the bourgeois. There was no
money, because Guy had taken it all. Balian took off
the silver from the Holy Sepulchre, and coined it into
money for his soldiers. Every day all the men that he
could spare rode out into the country and brought in
provisions, of which they might have direful need,
because the city was so full of women and children
that the houses were crowded and the unfortunate
creatures were lying about in the streets. Some sparks
of courage lived yet among the defeated soldiers, and
all swore to defend the city to the last. Balian, of
course, knew perfectly well that the cause was hopeless,
and only remained to make what terms he could for the
people. But it was necessary to make at least some
resistance for the sake of honour, barren honour though
it might be.
Before the siege began, Saladin sent a message to
the city to the effect that if they made any resistance
he had sworn to enter it by assault only. Before this
message, and after the taking of Ascalon, his offers
were such as nothing but the most extreme confidence
in his own power would justify. ' I know,' he said,
'that Jerusalem is the House of God: that is a part of
my religion. I would not willingly assail the House of
God, if I can get possession of it by treaty and friend-
ship. I will give you thirty thousand byzants if you
promise to give up this city. You shall be allowed five
miles all round the city as your own ground to cultivate
and use as you please, and I will cause such an abun-
dance of provisions to be sent in that yours shall be
the cheapest market in the world. You shall have a
SIEGE OF THE CITY. 395
truce from now to Pentecost ; if, after that time, you
seem to see hope of success, keep your town if you
can : if not, give it up, and I will see you all safe and
sound on Christian soil.' But the deputies went away
with many boasts that they were going to die for the
glory of God. In the end, nobody died who could by
any means avoid it. But at first, when Saladin's camp
was fixed to the west, where, nearly a hundred years
before, had been that of Godfrey de Bouillon, the
Christians made gallant sorties, and the Saracens could
do nothing against the impetuosity of their charges.
They observed, however, that after mid-day the sun
was at their own backs and in the faces of the enemy ;
and therefore they reserved their attacks for the after-
noon, throwing dust in the air and into the eyes of the
besieged.
After eight days of ineffectual fighting, Saladin
changed his camp to the east side, pitching it at the
gate of St. Stephen, where the valley of the Kedron
has no great depth. In this new position, Saladin was
able to erect machines for casting stones and arrows
into the city. He also set his men to work under-
mining the walls. In two days they had undermined
fifteen toises of the wall, the Christians not being
able to countermine ' because they were afraid of the
showers and missiles from the mangonels and
machines.' The Saracens fired the supports of their
mines, and as much of the wall as had been mined fell
down.
Then the besieged, finding that no hope remained of
holding the town, held a hasty council as to what
should be done. For now a universal panic had seized
the soldiers ; they ran to the churches instead of to the
ramparts, and while the defenders of the city prayed
396 JERUSALEM.
within the walls of the church, the priests formed pro-
cessions and walked round the streets chanting psalms.
Let Bernard the Treasurer tell this story in his own
words :
* The bourgeois, knights, and men of arms, in the
council, agreed that it would be better to sally forth and
for all to die. But the patriarch advised them to the
contrary. " Sirs, if there were no other way, this
would be good advice, but if we destroy ourselves and
let the lives perish which we may save, it is not well,
because for every man in this town there are fifty
women and children, whom, if we die, the Saracens will
take and will convert to their own faith, and so they
will all be lost to God. But if, by the help of God, we
can gain permission, at least, to go out from here and
betake ourselves to Christian soil, that would seem to
me the better course." They all agreed to this advice.
Then they took Balian of Ibelin and prayed him to go
to Saladin and make what terms of peace he could. He
went and spoke to him. And while he was yet speaking
with Saladin about delivering up the city, the Turks,
bringing ladders and fixing them against the walls,
made another assault. And, indeed, already ten or
twelve banners were mounted upon the ramparts, or
had entered where the wall had been undermined and
had fallen down. When Saladin saw his men and his
banners on the walls, he said to Balian, " Why do you
talk to me about delivering up the city, when you see
my people ready to enter ? It is too late now ; the city
is mine already." And even while they spoke, our Lord
gave such courage to the Christians who were on the
walls, that they made the Saracens thereon give way and
fall to the ground, and chased them out of the moat.
Saladin, when he saw it, was much ashamed and
FALL OF THE CITY
397
troubled. Then he said to Balian that he might go
back, because he would do nothing more at the time,
but that he might come again the next day, when he
would willingly listen to what he had to say. . . . The
ladies of Jerusalem took cauldrons and placed them
before Mount Calvary, and having filled them with cold
water, put their daughters in them up to the neck, and
cut off their tresses, and threw them away. Monks,
priest, and nuns went bare-footed round the wall of the
city, bearing in procession the said Cross before them.
The priests bore on their heads the Corpus Domini, but
our Lord Jesus Christ would not listen to any prayer
that they made, by reason of the stinking luxury and
adultery in the city which prevented any prayer from
mounting up to God. . . . When Balian came to Saladin,
he said that the Christians would give up the city if
their lives were saved. Saladin replied that he spoke
too late ; but he added, " Sir Balian, for the love of God
and of yourself, I will take pity on them in a manner,
and, to save my oath (that he would only take them by
force), they shall give themselves up to me as if they
were taken by force, and I will leave them their property
to do as they please, but their bodies shall be my
prisoners, and he who can ransom himself shall do so,
and he who cannot shall be my prisoner." " Sire,"
said Balian, " what shall be the price of the ransom ?"
Saladin replied that the price should be for poor and
rich alike, for a man thirty byzants, for every woman
and every child, ten. And whoever could not pay this
sum was to be a slave. . . .
' Balian went back with these hard terms, and during
the night prevailed upon the Master of the Knights
Hospitallers to give up, for the ransom of the poor, all
that was left of the treasure of King Henry of England.
398 JERUSALEM.
And the next day he obtained of Saladin a reduction of
the ransom by one half.
'Then said Balian to Saladin, "Sire, you have fixed
the ransom of the rich ; fix now that of the poor,
for there are twenty thousand who cannot pay the
ransom of a single man. For the love of God put in a
little consideration, and I will try to get from the
Temple, the Hospitallers, and the bourgeois as much as
will deliver all." Saladin said that he would willingly
have consideration, and that a hundred thousand
byzants should let all the poor go free. " Sire," said
Balian, " when all those who are able have ransomed
themselves, there will not be left half of the ransom
which you demand for the poor." Saladin said that it
should not be otherwise. Then Balian bethought him
that he should not make so cheap a bargain by ransom-
ing all together as if he ransomed part at a time, and
that by the help of God he might get the rest at a
cheaper rate. Then he asked Saladin for how much he
would deliver seven thousand men. " For fifty thousand
byzants." "Sire," said Balian, "that cannot be; for
God's sake let us have reason."
' It was finally arranged that seven thousand men
should be ransomed for thirty thousand byzants, two
women or ten children to count as one man. When
all was arranged, Saladin gave them fifty days to !
sell and mortgage their effects and pay their ransom,
and announced that he who should be found in the city
after fifty days should belong to the conquerors, body
and goods.
' All the gates were closed except that of David.
Guards were placed at this to prevent any Christian
from going out, the Saracens being admitted to buy what
the Christians had to sell. The day on which the city
FALL OF TFIE CLTY. 399
was given up was Friday, the 2nd day of October, 1187.
Saladin placed officers in the town of David to receive
the ranson, and ordered that no delay was to be granted
beyond the fifty days. The patriarch and Balian went
immediately to the Hospital and carried away the
thirty thousand byzants for the ransom of the poor.
When this was paid they summoned the bourgeois of
the city, and, choosing from their body the two most
trustworthy men of each street, they made them swear
on the relics of saints that they would spare neither
man nor woman through hatred or through love, but
would make one and all declare on oath what they had,
and would allow them to keep back nothing, but would
ransom the poor with what remained after their own
ransoms had been paid. They took down the number
of the poor in each street, and making a selection, they
made up the number of seven thousand, who were
allowed to go out of the city. Then there was hardly
anything left for the remainder. . . . But when all
those who were ransomed were out of the city, and there
remained yet many poor people, Seif-ed-din went to
Saladin, his brother, and said to him, " Sire, I have
helped to conquer the land and the city. I pray you to
give me a thousand slaves of those that are still within
it." Saladin asked him what he would do with them.
Seif-ed-din replied that he would do with them as
seemed him best. Saladin granted his request, and his
brother released them all. When Seif-ed-din had
taken out his thousand captives, the patriarch prayed
Saladin to deliver the poor which yet remained. He
gave the patriarch seven hundred. Then Balian asked
Saladin for some of those left. He gave Balian five
hundred. "And now," said Saladin, " I will make my
alms." Then he commanded his bailiffs to open the
4oo JERUSALEM.
postern towards Saint Lazarus, and to make proclama-
tion through all the city that the poor might go out by
this way, only that if there were among them any who
had the means of ransom, they were to be taken to
prison. The deliverance of the poor lasted from sun-
rise to sunset, and yet there were eleven thousand
left. The patriarch and Balian went then to Saladin
and prayed him that he would hold themselves in
hostage until those who were left could obtain from
Christendom enough to pay their ransom. Saladin said
that he would certainly not receive two men in place
of eleven thousand, and that they were to speak no
more of it.'
But Saladin was open to prayers from all quarters.
The widows and children of those who had fallen at
Tiberias came to him weeping and crying. ' When
Saladin saw them weeping, he was moved with great
pity ; and, hearing who they were, he told them to
inquire if their husbands and fathers were yet living,
and in prison ; those who were his captives he ordered
to be released ; and, in those cases where it was proved
that their husbands were dead, he gave largely from
his own private purse to all the ladies and the noble
maidens, so that they gave thanks to God for the
honour and wealth that Saladin bestowed upon them.'
Clearly a most magnanimous prince, this Saladin, and
one who was accustomed to return good for evil.
There were so many Christians who came out of the
city that the Saracens marvelled how they could have
all got in. Saladin separated them into three divisions ;
the Templars led one, the Hospitallers another, and
Balian the third. To each troop he assigned fifty of
his own knights to conduct them into Christian
territory. . . . These, when they saw men, women, or
END OF THE KINGDOM. 40 1
children fatigued, would make their squires go on foot,
and put the wearied exiles on horseback, while they
themselves carried the children. Surely this is a
tender and touching picture of the soft-hearted soldiers
of Islam, too pitiful to let the little children cry while
they had arms to carry them, or to drive the weary
forward while they could walk on foot themselves.
When the exiles got to Tripoli they found themselves
worse off than on the march. Raymond would not let
them enter, but sent out his knights, who caught all
the rich bourgeois, and brought them prisoners into the
city. Then Raymond deprived them of all that they
had brought out of Jerusalem. The poorer of them
dispersed into Armenia and the neighbouring countries,
and disappear from history. The names of the
Christians linger yet, however, in the Syrian towns,
and many of their descendants, long since converted
to the faith of the country, may be found in every town
and village between Antioch and Ascalon.
Jerusalem was fallen, and the kingdom of the
Christians was at last at an end. It had lasted eighty-
eight years. It had seen the exploits of six valiant,
prudent, and chivalrous kings. It was supported during
all its existence solely by the strength and ability
of these kings ; it fell to pieces at once when its
king lost his authority with his strength. Always
corrupt, always self-seeking, the Christians of the East
became a by-word and proverb at last for treachery,
meanness, and cowardice. It was time that a realm
so degraded from its high and lofty aims should
perish ; there was no longer any reason why it should
continue to live; the Holy City might just as well be
held by the Saracens, for the Christians were not
worthy. They had succeeded in trampling the name
26
4Q2 JERUSALEM.
of Christian in the dust ; the Cross which they protected
was their excuse for every treachery and baseness which
a licentious priest could be bribed to absolve. The
tenets and precepts of their faith were not indeed
forgotten by them, for they had never been known ;
there was nothing in their lives by which the Saracens
could judge the religion of Christ to be aught but the
blindest worship of a piece of wood and a gilded cross ;
while the worst among them — the most rapacious, the
most luxurious, the most licentious, the most haughty,
the most perjured — were the very men, the priests
and the knights of the orders, sworn to chastity, to
self-denial, to godliness. Christianity might have
had a chance in the East against Islam but for the
Christians ; and had men like Saladin been able to
comprehend what was the religion which, like an
ancient painting begrimed and overladen with dirt and
dust, lay under all the vices and basenesses of the
Christianity they witnessed, the world would at least
have been spared some of the bitterness of its religious
wars.
As for Guy de Lusignan, it matters very little what
became of that poor creature. He made one or two
feeble attempts to get back something of his kingdom,
but always failed. He finally sold his title to King
Richard, in exchange for that of King of Cyprus, and
ruled in great tranquillity in his new kingdom for a
year or so, when he died.
So disastrous an event as the fall of Jerusalem must
needs be accompanied by signs and wonders from
heaven. On the day that the city surrendered, one of
the monks of Argenteuil, as he remembered afterwards,
saw the moon descend from heaven to earth. It is re-
markable that nothing was said at the time of this very
SIGNS AND OMENS. 403
curious phenomenon. In many churches the crucifixes
shed tears of blood, which was their customary and
recognised way of expressing regret when the monks
thought anything was going wrong with the power of
the Church. And a Christian knight, name unknown,
saw in a dream, as he afterwards remembered, an eagle
flying over an army, holding seven javelins in its claws,
and crying, * Woe, woe to Jerusalem !'
26 — 2
CHAPTER XV.
THE THIRD CRUSADE.
1 Signor, saciez, ki or ne s'en ira
En cele terre, u Diex fu mors et vis,
Et x ki la crois d'outre mer ni prendra
A paines mais ira en paradis.'
Thibault de Champagne.
We are not writing a history of the Crusades, and
must hasten over all those episodes in the long struggle
of three hundred years which do not immediately con-
cern the Holy City. It is with regret that one turns
from the glowing pages of Vinsauf, Villehardouin, and
Joinville, with the thought that they have little to do
with our subject, and that we must perforce leave
them for other pastures, not so fair.* But a few
words to show the progress of events, if it is only to
make us understand the story of Saladin, are indis-
pensable.
The news of the fall of Jerusalem was received in
Europe with a thrill of horror and indignation. From
every pulpit, preachers thundered in the ears of the
* Why has no English historian treated of the Crusades ?
Besides the scattered notices in Milman, and the meagre book of
Mills, there is only the work of Keightley, meritorious in its way,
but as dry as sawdust ; spoiled, too, by the accident that it was
written for the Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge,
so that the author is always horribly afraid of saying something
which miffht offend the Committee.
TITHE OF SALADIN. 405
stupefied people the intelligence that the city for which
so much had been risked and spent was fallen, and that
it was the judgment of God upon the sins of the
world. Terrified and conscience-stricken, all Europe
repented and reformed. Luxury was abandoned,
mortifications and self-denial were practised ; every
sinner looked on the fall of the city as partly caused
by himself; nothing but prayers and lamentation were
heard through all the cities of Western Europe. And
then when Pope Gregory sent his circular letter ex-
horting the faithful to take up arms for the recovery
of Jerusalem, and when William of Tyre, eloquent,
noble in appearance, illustrious for learning and for
virtues, came to Europe to pray for help, in the name
of Christianity, kings forgot their quarrels, nobles their
ambitions, and it seemed as if, once more, the cry of
1 Dieu le veut ' would burst spontaneously from the
whole of Western Europe. It might have done had
there been a man with the energy and eloquence of
Peter the Hermit. But the moment of enthusiasm
was allowed to pass, and Philip Augustus, after taking
the Cross, delayed his Crusade, while he renewed his
quarrel with Henry II.
In England and in France, in order to defray
expenses, a tax called the Tithe of Saladin, consisting
of a tenth part of all their goods, was levied on every
person who did not take the Cross. The clergy, with
their usual greed, endeavoured to evade the tax, on the
ground that the Church must keep her property in
order to preserve her independence. They were over-
ruled, however, and had all to pay, except a few of the
poorer orders, and the Lepers' Hospitals. In every
parish the Tithe of Saladin was raised in the presence
of a priest, a Templar, a Hospitaller, a king's man, a
406 JERUSALEM.
baron's man and clerk, and a bishop's clerk. As this
did not produce enough, Philip Augustus arrested all
the Jews, and forced them to pay five thousand marks
of silver. In order to prevent such a rush of villagers
as might lead, as it had already led, to the desertion
of the fields, everyone had to pay the tithe except
those who took the Cross with the permission of their
seigneur. And when the money had all been collected,
war broke out again between the two Kings of France
and England. Peace was made between them by aid
of the pope's legate, but Henry died in the midst of his
preparations. Richard saw in the death of his father
the consequence of his own unfilial conduct, and took
the Cross as a sign of his unfeigned repentance. Bald-
win, Archbishop of Canterbury, preached the Crusade
throughout England. It was the first time that it had
been preached here, and the old enthusiasm of the
French was aroused among the English. All wanted
to take the Cross ; wives hid their husbands'
clothes ; they ran naked to Baldwin. Everywhere all
sorts of miracles took place ; the people gathered the
very dust which the bishop had trodden on as a holy
relic ; they flocked together from every part of England,
Wales, Ireland, and Scotland, and if the numbers were
less than those which went from France, it was because
a selection was made, and only those went who obtained
permission to go. The religious zeal of the English
found its first exercise in the famous massacre of the
Jews. From them Richard got large sums of money,
and as, with all his resources, he could not get enough,
he mortgaged a large part of his estates, sold the
dignities of the crown, and was quite ready to sell
the city of London itself, could he have found a pur-
chaser.
RICHARD'S CRUSADE. 407
In one respect this Crusade started with far better
prospects of success than any which had preceded it.
They went by sea, thus avoiding the horrible sufferings
inevitable in crossing Asia Minor ; and they established
a code of laws, to maintain discipline and order in the
army. Whosoever struck another was to be dipped
three times in the sea ; whosoever drew his sword upon
another was to have his right hand cut off; whosoever
swore at another was to be fined an ounce of silver for
every oath ; if a man were convicted of theft he was
to be shaven, hot pitch was to be poured on his head,
which was then covered with feathers, and he was
to be put upon the nearest shore ; while if a man
murdered another, he was to be tied to the corpse, and
both bodies thrown together into the sea. No woman
was to go with the Crusaders at all, save such as were
necessary for the service of the camp, and those only who
were of sufficient age to be above suspicion. No one
was to practise gaming in any shape whatever ; and all
luxury in dress or in the table was forbidden. Thus
the army started with the most admirable intentions
as regards virtue. It was to be a camp where there was
no vice, no gaming, no swearing, no violence — under
penalties of boiling pitch and feathers, abandonment
on a savage coast, the loss of the right hand.
Richard started from Marseilles ; Philip Augustus
from Genoa ; Frederick Redbeard from Germany
followed the old course of Bulgaria and Asia Minor.
He had with him a hundred thousand men; and he
refused to allow any man to join the army who
was not possessed of at least three marks of silver.
Frederick had the courtesy to send an ambassador to
Saladin, announcing his intention of making war upon
him.
4o8 JERUSALEM.
He fought his way across Asia Minor to Iconium,
which surrendered. The old terror which Godfrey and
Baldwin had been able to inspire among the Saracens
was inspired again by Frederick. The Mohammedans
expected his arrival in Syria with the liveliest appre-
hensions. But he never got there, for bathing
in the River Selef he was seized with a chill, and
died. After his death large numbers of his men de-
serted ; the rest fought their way under the Duke
of Swabia; and at length, out of the one hundred
thousand who had followed Frederick, there entered
into Palestine six hundred horse and five thousand foot.
Saladin, meantime, had besieged Tyre and Tripoli,
both ineffectually. He had, however, got possession of
the strong post of Kerak, after a siege of more than a
year. The Christian defenders actually sold their wives
and children to the besiegers, in order to save them
from starvation. Saladin — more chivalrous than any
Christian knight — gave them back again after the capi-
tulation. He also, in 1189, two years after his capture,
restored liberty to Guy de Lusignan, on his taking a
solemn oath never to go to war with him. Guy swore,
and directly after he returned to Christian soil got the
oath annulled, and returned to besiege Acre. This was
the crime which, above all things, enraged the Saracens,
and made a man like Saladin unable to understand
a religion which permitted it. Here was a captive king
released from his prison by the clemency of his con-
queror, and without ransom, solely on the condition
that he would leave it to others to make war upon him.
Yet the very first thing he does is to break his oath, and
get up an army to attack him. Conrad de Mont-
ferrat, who was in Tyre, refused to admit Guy, not
thinking it necessary to acknowledge a king who was
FIRST BATTLE. 409
unable to defend himself. But Guy, who was not
without courage, found means to raise a small army,
and with it sat down before Acre. He nearly took it by
assault, when an alarm was spread that Saladin was
coming, and his men fled in a panic. It was not Saladin
who was coming from the land, but the first reinforcement
of the Crusaders from the sea. The Frisians and
Danes, twelve thousand in number, came first, and
camped with Guy. Next came the English and the
Flemings. And then Saladin, becoming aware of the
new storm that was rising against him, came down from
Phoenicia, and prepared to meet it. Every day the
Crusaders arrived ; before Richard and Philip were even
on their way there were one hundred thousand of them,
and the hearts of the Mohammedans sank when they
beheld a forest of masts, always changing, always being
renewed as the ships went away and others came. The
Christians, on the other hand, were confident of
success ; a French knight, looking on the mighty host
about him, is reported to have cried out, blasphemously
enough, ' If God only remains neuter the victory is
ours.' Saladin forced on a battle, and experienced a
disastrous defeat. The Saracens fled in all directions,
and already the Christians were plundering their camp,
when a panic broke out among them. Without any
enemy attacking them, they threw away their arms, and
fled. Saladin stopped his men, and turned upon them.
The rout was general, and victory remained with
Saladin, but a victory which he could not follow
up, in consequence of the confusion into which his
camp had been thrown. He withdrew, and the
Crusaders, recovering from their panic, set to work,
fortifying their camp, and besieging Acre. They passed
thus the winter of 1 189-90, without any serious success,
4io JERUSALEM.
and contending always against Greek fire, which the
besieged threw against their movable towers. In the
spring came Saladin again; the Crusaders demanded
to be led against the Saracens, the chiefs refused ; the
soldiers revolted, and poured forth against the enemy,
only to experience another defeat, exactly similar to the
first. And then the leaders, despondent at their ill-
success, endeavoured to make peace with Saladin,
when the arrival of Henry, Count of Champagne,
followed by that of Frederick, Duke of Swabia, raised
their hopes again. But then came famine, winter, and
disease. Worse than all these, came dissension.
Queen Sybille died with her two children. Conrad of
Tyre resolved to break the marriage of her sister
Isabelle, now the heiress to the crown of Jerusalem, with
Humphry de Toron, and to marry her himself. He
did so, and claimed the throne ; so that the camp was
split into two parties, that of Guy, and that of Conrad.
It was resolved to submit the matter to the arbitration
of the Kings of England and France. The two kings
were quarrelling on their way. Richard refused to
espouse Alice, Philip's sister, to whom he was betrothed,
and married in her place Berengaria. He further
offended Philip by his conduct in Sicily, and by his
conquest of Cyprus, which island he refused to share
with Philip. Of course, therefore, directly Richard
declared for Guy, Philip took the part of Conrad ; and
it was not till after long discussions that it was decided
that Guy should hold the crown during his life, after
which it was to descend to Conrad and his children.
Then both kings fell ill ; Saladin also was ill, with con-
tinual fevers, and constant messages were sent to and
from the Christian and Saracen monarchs, which were
construed by the savage soldiers into proposals of
BA TTLE OF A SSUR. 411
treachery. Acre fell, after a two years' siege, and the
loss of sixty thousand Christians by the Saracens'
sword. Philip went home after this, and Richard,
pleased to be left without a rival, began his ferocious
course in Palestine by the cold-blooded slaughter of
two thousand seven hundred Saracens.
From Acre, after a short rest, devoted to those very
pleasures against which such stringent edicts had been
passed, Richard led his army to Csesarea. In the
midst was a sort of caroccio, a sacred car, in which was
the standard of the Cross, whither the wounded were
brought, and where the army rallied. The Saracens
hung upon the march, shooting their arrows into the
ranks of the Christians. If one was killed he was
buried there and then. At night, when the camp was
fixed, a herald cried aloud three times, to remind the
soldiers of their vows, ' Lord, help the Holy Sepulchre !'
And at break of day the march was resumed. They
moved slowly, only performing about ten miles a day.
And then came the great battle of Assur, when Saladin
lost eight thousand of his men, and ought to have lost
Palestine, if Richard had been as good a Crusader as he
was a general. Had they marched upon Jerusalem
there was nothing in their way. But they stopped at
Jaffa. Richard made propositions to Saladin. Would
he give up Jerusalem? The Saracens replied that it
was impossible to abandon a city whence the prophet
had mounted to heaven. Then Coeur de Lion made a
proposition which called forth, to his extreme astonish-
ment — for the strong-armed king had but little insight
into the intricacies of theology — such vehement op-
position that he was forced to abandon it. It was
nothing less than to marry his sister Jane, widow of
William of Sicily, to El Melik el "Adil, Saladin's
412 JERUSALEM.
brother. Both were to govern Jerusalem together.
El Melik el "Adil, who was on terms of personal
friendship with Richard, was perfectly willing to
arrange the marriage ; but it was impossible to meet
the objections of imams as well as bishops, and the
negotiations were broken off, Richard proving there-
upon his zeal for the faith by murdering his captives.
He then gave orders to march, declaring that he was
going to deliver Jerusalem. They started, but on the
way he changed his resolution, and determined to
rebuild Ascalon, to the chagrin and even despair of the
common soldiers. And then the chiefs quarrelled.
Peace was re-established. Guy de Lusignan was
made King of Cyprus, and Richard gave the crown of
Jerusalem to Conrad of Tyre. But the latter was
murdered by two emissaries of the sheikh of the
Assassins, * the old man of the mountains.' Henry of
Champagne then married his widow Isabelle, and
received the title of king.
The next winter passed, and in the spring Richard,
who had spent his time in small skirmishes, whence he
usually returned with half a dozen heads at his saddle-
bow, declared his intention of returning to Europe.
He was persuaded to remain, and once more led the
army in the direction of Jerusalem. But he stopped
some twenty miles from the city. And the army, like
the people of Israel, murmured against him. There
must, it seems to us, have been some secret reason
why he never marched upon Jerusalem. Could it have
been some superstitious one ? Joachim, the hermit of
Calabria, had prophesied that Jerusalem should be
taken seven years after its capture by Saladin. It was
now only five years. Was he waiting for the fulfilment
of the prediction ? From his vacillation, it would
SIGHT OF JERUSALEM. 413
almost appear so. One day he rode within sight of
the city. And then this great knight, this type of his
age ; wild beast and murderer, in and after battle ;
illiterate and rude ; yet full of noble impulses, and
generous above his peers, burst into bitter weeping,
and covering his face with his shield, cried aloud that
he was not worthy even to look upon the city of his
Saviour. He could not bear the thought of giving up
the conquest of the Holy Land. On the other hand,
if we are right in our conjecture as to his motives for
delay, he could not possibly, with everything in his own
kingdom going wrong in his absence, wait two years
more. He shut himself up in his tent and passed hours
alone, with pale and gloomy countenance. A temporary
relief to his sorrow was afforded by the successful
cutting off of the caravans which were going to Saladin
from Egypt. He got, too, a piece of the True Cross,
which was paraded through the camp with great
rejoicing.
Then, for the whole army looked to him for advice
and guidance, he called a council, and exposed certain
reasons which made him hesitate before advancing on
Jerusalem. Of these, the principal were, want of
knowledge of the country, and its arid and thirsty
nature. He proposed to submit the matter to a
council of twenty, of whom half should be Templars
and Hospitallers, and to be guided by their advice ; but
the council could not agree, and dissension broke out
between the Duke of Burgundy and King Richard.
The design of besieging Jerusalem was given up, and
the army slowly and sadly returned to Ramleh, and
thence to Jaffa.
A peace was concluded shortly after between Richard
and Saladin, in which it was agreed to destroy
414 JERUSALEM.
Ascalon entirely, by the joint labour of Christians and
Mohammedans ; the Christians were to have all the
coast between Tyre and Joppa ; peace was to be
enforced in the north of Syria ; pilgrimages were to be
freed from the former tax, and a truce for two years
was to be agreed upon.
The English Crusaders, divided into three bodies, all
went up unarmed to Jerusalem. They were received
with kindness, and the Bishop of Salisbury, who came
last, with distinction, being entertained by Saladin
himself, who showed him the wood of the True Cross,
and granted him, as a favour, that two Latin priests
should be permitted to serve at the Church of the
Sepulchre. And then, all being arranged, Richard
embarked at Acre. The people crowded to the
shore, weeping and crying over the loss of their
champion, the most stalwart warrior that ever fought
for the Cross. The king himself could not restrain his
tears. Turning to bid farewell to the country, he
cried, ' Oh, Holy Land ! God grant that I may yet
return to help thee !' And his last message was one to
Saladin, telling him that he was only going home to
raise money in order to complete the conquest of the
land. 'Truly,' said the courtly Saladin, ' if God wills
that Jerusalem pass into other hands, it cannot fall
into any more noble than those of the brave King
Richard.'
Such, briefly and baldly told, is the picturesque
Crusade of Cceur de Lion. Of the terror which his
name inspired, of his many and valiant gests, of his
personal strength, his chivalrous generosity, we have
not room to speak. Nor can we do more than allude
to those other qualities for which he made his name
known : his ferocious and savage cruelty ; his pleasure
CONCLUSION OF CRUSADE. 415
in fighting for love of mere butchery ; the ungovern-
able rage which sometimes seized him ; his want of
consideration for others ; his ' masterfulness ;' the way
in which he trampled on, careless over whose body he
passed, provided he obtained his ends. For these, and
the other stories which can be told about him, we refer
our readers to the chronicles, and to that book on the
Crusades which has yet to be written.
CHAPTER XVI.
SALADIN.
4 Sans peur et sans reproche.'
Saladin has already appeared upon our pages, but
hitherto scarcely more than incidentally. Let us
relate the career of this illustrious prince, as told by the
historians of his own nation.
We must go back to the time of the invasion of
Egypt by King Amaury. On Shirkoh's death, many of
the chief officers of Nur-ed-din's army were desirous of
succeeding to the important post of grand vizier ; but
the caliph, El ''Adhid, himself sent for Saladin, and
conferred the office upon him, together with many
privileges and titles of honour. ( He was designated El
Melik en Nasir, ' the Victorious King,' and Sipah-salar,
a Persian title, signifying generalissimo of the army ;
and his standard, or coat-of-arms, was placed instead
of his name at the head of all official communications
— a form made use of only in the case of royal person-
ages. In writing to him, however, the Egyptian
caliph did not address his letters to Saladin individu-
ally, but inscribed them ' To the Emir Saladin, and all
the princes in the land of Egypt.' This was doubtless
in order to assert his own prerogative and superior
authority ; but the young Kurd, having once placed
SAL A DIN'S COUP D'ETAT. 417
his foot upon the steps of the throne, was not to be
deterred from mounting to the summit of his ambition
by mere scruples of etiquette. He was, moreover, a
rigid follower of the Shafi'ite sect, and therefore no
friend to the pretensions of the sons of 'Ali ; indeed,
he had already received the commands of Nur-ed-din
to depose the Ismaelites from all religious and judicial
offices, to appoint orthodox doctors in their stead, and
to insert the name of the Abbaside Caliph of Baghdad
in the Friday prayer in the place of that of the Fatemite
Caliph of Egypt.
In 1 169 the Franks made their final effort for the
possession of Egypt, and besieged Damietta ; but
Saladin had garrisoned and provisioned the town so
well that it was enabled to hold out until a fresh attack
by Nur-ed-din upon the Syrian possessions of the
Christians compelled them to abandon the attempt and
return home bootless. The next year Saladin himself
invaded their territory, and, after plundering the
neighbourhood of Ascalon and Ramleh, returned to
Egypt. His next expedition was against Ailah
('Akabah), which he blockaded by land and sea, and
conquered with little difficulty.
For some time Saladin was prevented from carrying
out Nur-ed-din's injunctions respecting the abolition of
the Fatemite sect and authority, through fear of an
insurrection ; but towards the end of the year 11 71 an
opportunity offered itself in the sudden illness of El
"Adhid li din allah. Of this Saladin at once availed
himself, and the name of El Mostadhi bi amr
illah was solemnly proclaimed in the mosques of
Cairo.
This great coup d'etat, which won Egypt over to the
orthodox Mohammedan sect, and ultimately enabled
27
418 JERUSALEM.
Saladin to grasp the independent sovereignty of the
country, was effected, as an Arab historian quaintly
observes, ' so quietly, that not a brace of goats butted
over it.' The last of the Fatemites died only ten days
afterwards, in happy ignorance of the downfall of his
dynasty. The news was hailed with great demonstra-
tions of joy in Baghdad, and 'Emad-ed-din Sandal, a
confidential servant of Saladin's, was despatched to
Cairo with dresses of honour for the emir, bearing also
the black flag, the famous standard of the house of
Abbas.
But Saladin was flying at higher game ; and when
news reached him of the death of Nur-ed-din, in
August, 1174, he at once set out for Damascus. El
Melik es Salih Ismail, who had succeeded his father
upon the throne, was absent at Aleppo when Saladin
arrived, and the latter established himself without
opposition in the government of the town. Hums and
Hamah (the Hamath of the Bible) next yielded to his
authority, but Aleppo still held out, and warmly
supported the cause of El Melik es Salih, the legitimate
heir to the kingdom. After an unsuccessful attempt to
reduce the place by blockade, Saladin made terms with
his rival, and each agreed to leave the other in quiet
possession of the districts of Syria which he then
actually held. Having concluded this arrangement, he
returned to Egypt. El Melik es Salih died in 1181, and
was succeeded by his uncle, 'Ezz-ed-din Masud, who,
however, exchanged by mutual consent the throne of
Aleppo with Maudud, Lord of Sanjar.
In May, 1182, Saladin once more set out for
Damascus, ravaging the country of the Crusaders by
the way, and obtaining a large amount of booty. He
never afterwards returned to Egypt, but from that je
RENAUD OF KERAK. 419
moment devoted himself to the task of reconquering the
Holy Land for the Mussulmans.
In the following month he began his campaign, and,
pitching at Tiberias, harassed the neighbourhood of
Beisan, Jaibin, and the Ghor, causing much loss to the
Christians, both of property and life. Beirut and the
sea-coast were next attacked, and, even where the towns
themselves held out, the country around suffered severely
from his depredations, for he seldom returned empty-
handed from a raid.
It was in this same year 1182, that the Frank occu-
pants of Kerak and Shobek determined to make an
expedition against Medinah itself, and thus to attack
the Mohammedans in the very birthplace and strong-
hold of their faith. They had even sworn that they
would dig up the body of the Prophet, and carry it off
to their own country, in order to put a stop to pilgrim-
ages once and for all. That this was no idle threat was
clear from the fact that the Prince Renaud of Kerak
had caused ships to be constructed and carried over-
land to the Red Sea, and that troops had been trans-
ported in these vessels, and were actually on their way
to Medinah.
Saladin was at Hauran when the news of the intended
invasion reached him. He was furious at the insult
offered to his religion, and sent orders to his lieutenant
in Egypt to despatch the Emir Hisam-ed-din Lulu in
pursuit of the enemy. The Franks, rather more than
three hundred in number, besides a body of rebellious
Bedawin which had joined their ranks, had advanced
within a day's march of Medinah when Lulu caught
them up. Despairing of being able to resist the
Egyptian troops, who were superior to themselves both
in numbers and discipline, they sought refuge upon a
27 — 2
4 20 JERUSALEM.
mountain difficult of access, while the Bedawin, with
their usual discretion in cases of danger, took to their
heels. Lulu, however, followed them to the heights,
captured, and sent them in chains to Cairo. They
were given over for execution * to the dervishes,
lawyers, and religious persons,' who put them all to a
cruel death, reserving only two of the most conspicuous
members of the band, 'who were sent to Mecca to
have their throats cut, like the beasts who are
sacrificed before the Ka'abah.'
In 1 183 Saladin obtained possession of Hums, Amed,
'Aintab, and other places. He next besieged Aleppo,
which he took after a short siege ; though, to compensate
the sovereign of that place, 'Emad-ed-din ibn Maudud,
for its loss, he bestowed upon him the territory of
Sanjar. The conquest of Aleppo took place in the
month Safar, and a poet of Damascus (Muhiy-ed-din),
celebrating the event in an ode addressed to the sultan,
' declared that the capture of Aleppo in Safar was a
good augury for that of Jerusalem in Rejeb' — a verse
which seems to have been prophetic, for Jerusalem fell
in the month Rejeb of the year 1187 a.d.
The next year the sultan made a fresh attack upon
Kerak. A severe conflict took place between his forces
and the Christians, and some of the forts fell into his
hands. He did not, however, follow up his advantage,
but returned to Damascus, having first marched upon
Nablus, which he plundered and burnt.
In 1186 Diyar Bekr also yielded to his arms, and his
kingdom was now becoming so extensive that he found
himself obliged to make some different provision for the
government of the various provinces. Sending for his
son, El Melik el Afdhal, from Egypt, he assigned him
the seigneurie of Damascus; Egypt, Hamah, Diyar
SALADIN'S HOLY WAR. 421
Bekr, etc., he allotted to other members of his
family.
We now come to 1187, the year of the fall of
Jerusalem, and the most important era in Saladin's
career. His operations against the Franks, though
generally successful, had as yet partaken rather of the
character of border forays than regular warfare, and
although they harassed and annoyed the Crusaders,
they did not materially weaken their position in the
country. Jerusalem was defended by the flower of the
Christian chivalry, and as yet appeared too strong for
him to attack ; but his determination had long been
taken, and he merely waited for an opportunity to strike
a decisive blow. An appeal was, moreover, made to
him, artfully calculated to inflame his religious zeal,
and sting his personal pride. An aged native of
Damascus had been taken prisoner by the Franks, and
carried to Jerusalem. From the place of his captivity
he sent a copy of verses to the sultan, in which the
Holy City was made to address him thus :
' Just sovereign, mighty monarch ! thou
To whom the Cross's standards bow !
There cometh up before thee now
Jerusalem's piteous plaint.
" Elsewhere are idols overthrown —
Shall I, the Holy House, alone,
The Muslim's noblest temple, groan
Beneath so foul a taint ?" '
The verse had its effect, and later on, Saladin
rewarded the author with the deanery (if we may so
translate the word khatdbeh) of the Masjid el Aksa.
In the month of March he addressed letters to all
parts of his dominions calling on his subjects to rally
round his standard, and follow him to the ' Holy War.'
Setting out from Damascus with such men as he
could raise, he began himself to beat up recruits, and
422 JERUSALEM.
persuaded even the most unwilling to take up arms in
the cause of their faith.
Renaud, Prince of Kerak, had resolved upon attack-
ing the Mohammedan pilgrims on their return from
Mecca, and carrying them into captivity ; but Saladin
encamped near Bosra until the caravan had passed,
and so thwarted his designs. Renaud was one of the
fiercest and most implacable antagonists the Muslims
had to contend with, and he, knowing that he had little
chance of quarter if he fell into Saladin's hands, with-
drew into his fortress at Kerak. As the Egyptian con-
tingent for which he was waiting did not arrive so soon
as he had expected, Saladin commanded his son, El
Melik el Afdhal, to remain at Ras el Ma, and collect an
army, while he himself occupied his leisure by plunder-
ing and burning the villages in the neighbourhood of
Kerak. Here he was at last joined by the Egyptians,
and things remained in statu quo for two months.
Meanwhile El Afdhal had executed his father's com-
mands, and collected a large body of men, with whom,
in the absence of other orders, he marched upon
Tiberias. At Sefuriyeh they were met by the Chris-
tian troops, who sallied forth in great numbers from
the town and gave them battle. Fortune, however,
declared for the Muslims, and the Crusaders retired
with great loss. Saladin, on receiving the news
of this victory, left Kerak and joined his son. The
combined forces now amounted to an immense number
of men, all ardently desiring to do battle with the
' infidels,' and the Franks, sensible of the approaching
danger, made overtures for peace. But Saladin con-
tinued his march upon Jerusalem. On the 27th of
June he pitched at Jaibin, and on the following
morning reached the Jordan.
BATTLE OF TIBERIAS. 423
In the meantime the Crusaders endeavoured to stop
his progress, and had assembled (according to the Arab
authorities) to the number of fifty thousand in the plain
of Sefuriyeh, where for some days continuous but un-
important skirmishes took place. Saladin determined
first to attack Tiberias itself, and, sending a party of
sappers and miners stealthily to undermine the walls,
he approached and entered the town at nightfall. The
Franks knew that the loss of this important place
would be fatal to their cause. The next morning,
therefore, as soon as they got information of the move-
ment, they beat to arms, and proceeded with all speed
to endeavour to oust Saladin from his position. It
was a Friday morning, but, rigid Mussulman as the
sultan was, he did not, on this occasion at least,
allow his scruples to interfere with his plan of action.
Leaving some men in charge of the castle of Tiberias,
he sallied out, and gave battle to the enemy. The
conflict raged fiercely, neither side gaining a decisive
advantage, until night coming on put a stop to the en-
counter. In the morning both sides prepared to
resume the fight, and the Muslims rushed to the attack
shouting like one man. At this a sudden panic seized
upon the Christian ranks, and they retired in disorder
to Jebel Hattin, a village in which is the reputed tomb
of Jethro, the father-in-law of Moses. The Count of
Tripoli, foreseeing that defeat was imminent, withdrew
with his followers before the general rout began, and
fled to Tyre.
And now was enacted a scene of indescribable car-
nage and confusion. The Muslims, who had followed
in hot pursuit, came suddenly upon the retreating host,
and, having surrounded them on all sides, so as to
make escape impossible, set fire to the dry herbage
424 JERUSALEM.
beneath their feet. The flames spread instantly, and
the Christians, scorched by the burning grass, and
fainting under the scarcely less fierce rays of a Syrian
midsummer sun, fell, huddled together like sheep,
beneath the swords and darts of their assailants. No
fewer than thirty thousand of their bravest soldiers are
said to have perished on the field, and many others
were taken captive. So entirely were they cowed and
demoralized that one peasant alone is related to have
taken thirty prisoners, and tied them in his tent, and
to have sold one of them for an old boot !
Amongst the prisoners were the king himself, and
his brother Godfrey, Odo, Lord of Jebail, Count
Humphrey, the Grand Masters of the Templars and
Hospitallers, together with many knights of both
orders, and Prince Renaud of Kerak, who was one of
the first captured. Saladin had sworn that if ever
Renaud fell into his power he would slay him with his
own hand, for he was incensed against him not only
for his meditated attack upon Medinah, but because he
had violated the truce and treacherously murdered
some Egyptians who were passing by Shobek, answer-
ing them by coarse jests upon Mohammed when they
appealed to his honour and the articles of peace.
The sultan was sitting in the threshold of his tent,
which was not yet completely set up, and the captives
were arrayed before him one by one. When King Guy
was brought out he courteously invited him to sit down
by his side, and perceiving Renaud immediately after,
he made him sit down beside the king, and commenced
upbraiding him with his former breach of faith and
with his attempt upon the sanctuary of Medinah.
Renaud excused himself, saying, through the inter-
preter, ' that he had only acted after the manner of
THE CHRISTIAN PRISONERS. 425
princes.' At this moment the king gave signs of being
greatly distressed by thirst, and Saladin ordered iced
sherbet to be brought for his refreshment. Having
quenched his own thirst, the king handed the cup to
Renaud ; but as the latter raised it to his lips, Saladin
exclaimed, ' Thou hast given him to drink, not I.'
This sentence was equivalent to Renaud's death-knell,
for Saladin thereby disclaimed the obligation he would
have been under (according to the laws of Arab war-
fare) to spare the life of a captive who had eaten or
drunk with him. As soon as the tent was pitched the
sultan again ordered Renaud to be brought before
him, and told him he was ' going to help Mohammed
against him this time.' He then gave the Prince of
Kerak one last chance of his life, offering to spare him
if he would embrace Islam. Renaud, whatever his
other faults, was no coward, and as he returned a
proud refusal to the offer, Saladin smote him to the
ground, and commanded the attendants to cut off his
head. The order was promptly executed, and the
reeking corpse was dragged by the feet to where the
king was standing. The latter, who had witnessed the
incident, made sure that his own turn was to follow
next, and could not conceal his agitation ; but Saladin
assured him that he had no cause to fear, that ' it was
not the custom amongst his people for one king to
injure or insult another, and that Renaud had only met
the fate which all such traitors deserved.'
The capture of the king was, however, of less im-
portance in the eyes of the Christians than that of the
'True Cross,' which fell into the hands of the Mussulmans
on this occasion. The native writers describe with
great glee the costly covering of gold and precious
stones in which the relic was encased, and the despair
426 JERUSALEM,
of the Christians at its loss. This victory, which com-
pletely crushed the Christian power, and paved the way
for Saladin's future successes, took place on the 14th
of June.
Saladin, by his manoeuvre of the previous Friday,
had only possessed himself of a portion of the town of
Tiberias. Raymond's wife had moved all she possessed
to the castle, and prepared to defend it against the
invaders, but, when she saw the turn which affairs
had taken, she very wisely withdrew with her imme-
diate followers and rejoined her husband at Tyre, The
Mohammedans were thus enabled to occupy the fort.
Having appointed Sarim-ed-din Caimaza Sanji as
governor of Tiberias, Saladin pitched his tent outside
the town, and commanded the Templars and Hospital-
lers who had been taken prisoners to be brought before
him. No less than two hundred of these were found
distributed amongst the soldiery, and Saladin ordered
them to be immediately beheaded. There were a
number of ' doctors and philosophers ' present with
the Mohammedan troops, and these petitioned as a
particular favour to be allowed to perform the office of
executioners, and permission being accorded them, the
learned gentlemen each selected a knight and butchered
him, as a practical comment upon the Ovidian maxim —
' Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes
Emollit mores nee sinit esse feros !'
The grand masters of the two orders were spared and
sent, together with the king, his brother Godfrey, and
the Lord of Jebail, to Damascus, where they w T ere
thrown into prison.
On the following Tuesday the sultan resumed his
march, and on the Thursday morning encamped before
the walls of Acre. The inhabitants made no resistance,
SALADFN'S PROGRESS. 427
but came out of the city and met him with prayers for
quarter. This he granted them, and, having given
them the option either of remaining in the city or
removing from it, and giving those who chose to with-
draw time to enable them to do so, he took possession
of it with his troops on the 9th of July. While here,
Saladin received intelligence that his brother, El Melik
el ''Adil, had left Egypt, and was on the road to join
him, having conquered the fortress of Mejdel Yaba and
the city of Jaffa by the way.
Making Acre his headquarters, the sultan dispersed
the emirs over the country in different directions for
the purpose of attacking the castles and fortified towns.
Nazareth was taken after a slight resistance, men and
women were carried into captivity and their property
plundered. Sefuriyeh was found to be entirely deserted,
the inhabitants having decamped after the disastrous
battle of Hattin. Caesarea, Arsuf, Sebastiyeh, and
Nablus were next added to the list of Saladin's con-
quests ; the last-named place fell an easy prey, as all
the principal inhabitants, both of the town and its
vicinity, were Mohammedan, and consequently dis-
affected to the Christian rule.
Fuleh was one of the most important fortresses of the
Crusaders, and a depot both for their stores and men.
Against this the sultan next directed his attention, and
succeeded in reducing it after some days' siege. He
did not, however, derive as much advantage from the
conquest of this place as he had expected, for its
defenders had found means of withdrawing with a
greater part of their arms and provisions ; so that the
sultan found no one there when he entered it but a few
of the lower class of the population. It was, neverthe-
less, important in its results, for the conquest of the
428 JERUSALEM.
other principal forts of the neighbourhood followed as
a matter of course, and Daburiyeh, Jaibin, Towaliyeh,
Lejun, Beisan, and other places fell into the Saracens*
hands, including the entire provinces of Tiberias and
Acre.
The sultan then ordered his nephew, El Melik el
Muzaffar, to march upon the fortress of Tibnin. After
a week's siege the inhabitants were obliged to sue for
quarter. The request was referred to Saladin person-
ally, who granted quarter to the defenders of the town,
taking hostages for their good conduct, on condition of
their entirely surrendering it within five days, and
setting free all the Mohammedan captives who remained
in their hands. This plan he adopted thenceforth with
all places which he conquered, and thus set at liberty a
large number of prisoners, many of whom were doubt-
less fighting men, and would add greatly to the numeri-
cal strength of his army.
The occupation of Tibnin by Saladin's troops took
place on the 26th of July, 1187, and three days after-
wards the Muslim flag was flying from the walls of
Sidon.
Saladin next attacked Beirut, which place prepared
for a long resistance ; but his sappers and miners
having succeeded in undermining the wall and weak-
ening the foundations of the tower, the besieged deemed
it better to capitulate, and the town was occupied by
the Saracens on the 6th of August.
While he was at Beirut a letter came to the sultan
from one of his officers at Damascus, informing him
that Odo, Lord of Jebail, who, it will be remembered,
was taken prisoner at Hettin, had consented to surren-
der his town on condition that he should be himself
released from captivity. Saladin ordered him to be
SALADIN'S PROGRESS. 429
brought to Beirut in chains, and having concluded the
bargain and obtained possession of Jebail (August 14th),
he set Odo at liberty. The arrangement was not a
politic one for the Mussulmans, for Odo was an active
and influential chief, and was destined to give them
much trouble. The greater part of the inhabitants of
Beirut, Sidon, and Jebail were Mohammedans, which
may account for the easy conquest of those places.
The Christian part of the population, who had received
permission to withdraw on the entry of the sultan's
troops, removed to Tyre, where the Count of Tripoli
had retired after the defeat of the Christians at
Tiberias. Hearing that Saladin was marching upon
him, the count vacated the city and fled to Tripoli,
where he died. The Marquis of Montferrat, who had
only arrived that year on the coast of Syria, happened
at this time to put into the port of Acre, not knowing
that it was in the possession of the Muslims. He was
at first surprised that no demonstration of joy greeted
his arrival, but quickly perceiving the real state of the
case, he would willingly have sought safety in flight.
The wind, however, being unfavourable, he asked for
quarter and requested that he might be allowed to land.
Permission was given him, but he pretended that he
dared not trust himself ashore without a safe-conduct in
the sultan's own handwriting, and gaining time by this
and similar devices, he took advantage of a favourable
wind springing up and sailed away to Tyre. Here he
landed, and at once set about fortifying and entrenching
the town, and, being joined by the fugitives from all
the towns conquered by the Mussulmans, he succeeded
in establishing himself in an almost impregnable
position.
After the conquest of Beirut and Jebail, Saladin
43Q JERUSALEM.
returned by way of Sidon and Sarfend, and, passing
by Tyre without attempting to assault it, he proceeded
to the coast of Philistia, and, having taken Ramleh,
Yebneh, Bethlehem, and Hebron on his way thither,
sat down before Ascalon and prepared to bring his
engines of war to bear upon the walls. For fourteen
days the city held out, at the end of which time the
inhabitants surrendered on the urgent representations
of the king and the Grand Master of the Templars, to
whom Saladin had given a promise that he would release
them from captivity so soon as he should have mas-
tered the forts and towers which still remained in the
hands of the Crusaders. Ascalon was enabled to make
very good terms with its conqueror, all the residents
being permitted to leave unmolested, and taking with
them all their property and possessions. It surren-
dered on the 5th of September, 1187, having been in
the hands of the Crusaders for nearly thirty-five years.
At Ascalon Saladin was joined by his son, el Melik El
'Aziz 'Othman, from Cairo, who brought with him a
contingent of troops, and information of the departure
of the Emir Lulu with the Egyptian fleet to intercept
the arrival of reinforcements to the Crusaders by sea.
And now came the supreme moment for the Christian
power ; the sultan gave orders to march upon Jeru-
salem, and the greatest consternation prevailed within
the Holy City.
On the evening of Sunday, the 20th of October, the
Mohammedan army arrived in front of the town on the
west side, where it was met by a large sortie, and a fierce
and sanguinary conflict took place. On the 25th the
sultan moved his camp to the north side of the city, and
began to set up his engines and battering-rams, and
shortly effected a slight breach ; at the same time his
OCCUPATION OF THE CITY. 431
sappers were undermining the wall which runs parallel
to the Wady Jehennum. The Christians, few in
numbers and disheartened, made one or two sorties,
but victory inclined to the Mussulmans. Balian of
Ibelin now sallied forth with a flag of truce, and
besought the sultan to allow them to capitulate, but
Saladin would hold no parley with him, and swore that
' he would capture the city by the sword, as the Franks
had taken it from the true believers.' The Frank
leaders, finding entreaties of no avail, swore that if
terms were not granted them they would sell their lives
as dearly as might be, utterly destroy the city, and the
Kubbet es Sakhrah with it, and murder every Mo-
hammedan who remained in their power. As there
were some thousands of Muslim prisoners in the city,
this last threat induced the sultan to reconsider his
determination, and a council of war was called, at
which it was resolved that the peaceable capitulation
of the town should be received upon certain conditions.
These were, that the Christians should pay ten dinars
for every man, five for a woman, and two for a child,
and that those who could not pay were to surrender as
prisoners. There were said to be more than sixty
thousand fighting men in the town, besides women and
children, and other non-combatants ; the sum of money
demanded was, therefore, immoderately large. Balian
disbursed thirty thousand dinars on behalf of the poor,
and the Grand Masters of the Hospitallers and
Templars, as well as the patriarch, came forward
nobly to the relief of their poorer brethren, both with
money and security. The Mohammedans entered the
city on the 1st of November, just before noonday
prayer, and at once took precautions for ensuring the
due performance of the stipulation, by locking the gates
432 JERUSALEM.
of the city, and allowing no one to leave without
payment of the required sum, and, moreover, ap-
pointing officers to collect the poll-tax from the
inhabitants.
The Mohammedan historians themselves allow that
great corruption prevailed amongst these officers, and
that for a small consideration they connived at the
escape of many Christians by the breaches which had
been made during the siege, or even let them down
themselves in buckets from the walls. Some of the
more distinguished, especially of the women, ex-
perienced the sultan's clemency ; amongst these was a
princess of great wealth, who had resided in Jerusalem
as a nun, and who was allowed to leave with her
property intact. Sybille, the queen-consort of the
captive king, and the Princess of Kerak, daughter of
Philip and mother of Humphrey, were also excused the
tax, and permitted to depart. Zeha, one of the
Saracen generals, sought and obtained the release of
over five hundred Armenians, alleging that they
belonged to his country, and were only present as
pilgrims ; and a thousand more Armenians were set at
liberty on a similar representation being made in
their favour by Muzaffer-ed-din Kokaburi, another of
Saladin's officers. Committees were established in
various parts of the town where payments were
received, and a passport from any of these boards
was sufficient to procure the bearer a free passage out
of the city. As might be expected, much peculation
went on amongst the inferior officers, in spite of which
nearly one hundred thousand dinars were brought into
the public treasury, while many Franks still remained
prisoners in default of payment. The Franks were
anxious to clear out of the place as soon as possible,
PA YMENT OF RANSOM. 433
and sold their lands and effects at ruinous prices to the
Mussulmans, while the patriarch stripped the Holy
Sepulchre and other churches of the plate, gold and
silver ornaments, and other valuables, and prepared to
carry them off with him. El 'Emad, the sultan's
secretary, saw with displeasure the disappearance of
all this treasure, worth, we are told, more than two
hundred thousand dinars, and advised Saladin to
forbid its removal, declaring that the privilege ex-
tended to private property alone. But the sultan
declared that the Christians should never have oc-
casion to charge the Muslims with a breach of faith,
and allowed the Franks to carry off all the portable
articles they pleased. Those who were enabled to
leave made the best of their way to Tyre ; but there
still remained over fifteen thousand defaulters, of whom
eight thousand were women and children. When the
Mussulmans were quietly settled in the possession of
Jerusalem the Christians asked and obtained permission
to return, on payment of the usual tax.
A curious reason is given by the Arab historians for
the strong feeling which the taking of Jerusalem ex-
cited throughout Europe. The Christians, say they,
made an image of Christ and Mohammed, the latter
holding an upraised stick and the former fleeing away,
and carried it about with them in Christian countries
to induce their co-religionists to revenge their quarrel
by a new crusade.
The first Friday after the taking of Jerusalem was a
memorable one for Islam : Saladin himself was present
at the public service and prayed in the Kubbet es
Sakhrah, where a most eloquent sermon (khotbah) was
delivered by the poet Muhiy-ed-din (whose verse pro-
phetic of the occasion has been already alluded to)
28
434 JERUSALEM.
and the concourse of people was so great that there
was scarcely standing-room in the open court of the
Haram Area.
The Franks had built an oratory and altar over the
Sakhrah itself, and 'filled it with images and idols;'
these Saladin removed, and restored it to its original
condition as a mosque. The Christians are also said
to have cut off portions of the Sakhrah and sold them
in Sicily and Constantinople for their weight in
gold.
A great cross, plated with gold and studded with
jewels, was found on the holy rock when Saladin
entered the Temple ; this the Muslims pulled down
and dragged with great glee round the city, to the
intense horror of the Christians, who expected some
dreadful visitation to follow such profanity. Saladin's
first care was to uncover the mihrdb or ' prayer niche,'*
in front of which the Templars had built a wall, leaving
* The mihrdb, that is, of the Jami' el Aksa, as being that of the
congregational building, and therefore the principal one in the
enclosure. It is necessary to bear in mind a few facts, which are
perfectly clear from the statements of the Arab historians (in the
original), but which are either neglected or misinterpreted by many
European writers, and notably by Mr. Fergusson. These are :
I. That the Masjidel Aksa is the whole Haram Area, including the
Jami' el Aksa and Kubbet es Sakhrah, as well as all the smaller
oratories, mosques, minarets, etc. 2. That all these, as already ex-
plained, were built by 'Abd el Melik, and that the Kubbet es Sakhrah
is only mentioned more specially than the other buildings erected
by that prince because of its magnificent proportions and the
peculiar sanctity of the spot it covers. 3. That the Kubbet es
Sakhrah is only a supplementary building . 4. That when the
pulpit, the 'kiblah,' etc., of the Masjid el Aksa is spoken of it must
always be referred to that of the Jami' el Aksa ; just as when speaking
of the chancel of an English cathedral we should mean that of the
main building, and not that of the lady chapel, and still less of any
oratory, however large, that might exist in another part of the close.
The account in the text is taken from Mejfr-ed-din. The inscrip-
tion recording Saladin's restorations may still be seen in letters of
gold over the ?nihrdb of the Jami' el Aksa.
RESTORATIONS WITHIN THE WALLS. 435
an empty space between* they had also built a
spacious house and chapel on the west of the kiblah.
He pulled down the wall, covered the mihrdb with
marble, thoroughly cleansed the place, and supplied
it with lamps, costly carpets, and other furniture. The
Sultan Nur-ed-din had himself resolved upon the con-
quest of Jerusalem, but the expedition was prevented
by his sudden death. He had ordered a magnificent
pulpit (nimbar) to be executed by a celebrated artist
at Aleppo, intending to present it to the mosque ; this
Saladin sent for and placed in the Jami' el Aksa, where
it remains to the present day, and forms one of the
principal objects of attraction to the visitor, being one
of the most exquisite pieces of carved wood-work in
the world. Both the Kubbet es Sakhrah and El Aksa
were furnished by the sultan with copies of the Koran,
doubtless from the celebrated library at Damascus, the
remains of which are preserved in the little dome
(called Kubbet el Kutub) in the Jami' el Omawiyeh of
that city.
The princes of Saladin's family personally assisted
in the work of restoration and purification, and it is
related that El Melik el Muzaffar himself headed the
attendants who swept out and washed the sanctuary.
The process must have cost a considerable sum, for
after thoroughly cleansing it with water they deluged
every portion, even to the walls and pavement, with
rose-water.
The mihrdb, or, as it is sometimes called, the Tower
of David, near the Jaffa Gate, was also refurnished as
a mosque and endowed with funds.
These more important buildings provided for, Saladin
turned his attention to the other churches and sacred
* Some say it had been even turned into a latrina.
28—2
436 JERUSALEM.
places in the town. The Church of Sion was occupied
by El Melik el ''Adil and his staff-officers, the soldiery
being encamped at the gate. The Church of St.
Hannah was turned into a college for the doctors of
the Shafiite sect ; and the patriarch's house adjoining,
and partly built on the Church of the Holy Sepulchre,
was made use of as a cloister for the Sufi monks and
philosophers ; both of these establishments were
liberally endowed, and afterwards became celebrated
schools of Mohammedan learning. As for the Church
of the Holy Sepulchre, it was locked up, and no Chris-
tian allowed to enter it. It had indeed a narrow
escape, as many of Saladin's officers counselled him
to destroy it ; thanks, however, to the sultan's mode-
ration and the noble example of 'Omar, which he
adduced, their advice was not carried out. The whole
of the wealth which he had acquired by this conquest
he distributed amongst the most deserving of his fol-
lowers, disregarding the advice of some more prudent
minds to keep it against future emergencies. He also
collected all the Mohammedan captives, and fed them,
clothed them, and sent them to their homes at his own
private expense.
Saladin, having written to the caliph to acquaint him
with the victory, remained for some time at Jerusalem
to complete the reduction of the fortresses in the neigh-
bourhood, and to tranquillize the country ; while his
generals El Melik el Afdhal and El Melik el Muzaffar
proceeded to Acre. The Emir 'All ibn Ahmed el
Mashtub, governor of Sidon and Beyrout, remained
behind with the sultan. Hearing that the Marquis of
Montferrat had taken advantage of the concentration
of their attention upon Jerusalem to strengthen his
position at Tyre, he began to tremble for the safety of
DEFEAT OF SAL A DIN'S FLEET. 437
his own towns, and continually urged Saladin to
resume his campaign in Syria.
Accordingly, on the 26th of October, Saladin once
more set out for Acre, and reached that city on the
3rd of November. In eight days more he had moved
off to Tyre, and, encamping at some distance from
the walls, awaited the arrival of the rest of his forces.
On the 25th of November the reinforcements came up,
under the command of his son, El Melik ed Dhahir
Ghiyas ed-din Ghazi, from Aleppo, and the siege was
commenced in right earnest, all the wood in the neigh-
bourhood being cut down for the construction of the
battering-rams and other engines. But Conrad de-
fended the place skilfully and gallantly, and it withstood
all attempts to take it by storm.
Hitherto we have seen Saladin prosecuting a career
of victory unsullied by a single defeat ; the tide of
war now began to turn for a time in favour of the
Franks.
The first disaster which the Muslims experienced was
by sea. The sultan had ordered all the ships of war to
come up and assist in the blockade of Tyre, and those
which were at Acre, ten in number, quickly appeared
upon the scene, and were joined in a few days by the
fleet from Beirut and Jebail. The marquis, seeing
that this manoeuvre was likely to cause him some
trouble, determined to counter it, and accordingly sent
out his own vessels to give them battle. The Muslim
ships were drawn up in line, close upon the shore, and
immediately protected by their own troops. The
sailors, confident in the security of their position,
neglected to remain upon the alert, and thus gave the
marquis his opportunity, of which he was not slow to
avail himself. On the night of the 8th of December,
438 JERUSALEM.
a number of the sultan's ships were riding at anchor
near the entrance to the harbour of Tyre ; the sailors
and marines were tranquilly sleeping in happy ignorance
of the enemy's movements, when, just before morning,
they were rudely awakened to find themselves sur-
rounded and at the mercy of the Christians, by whom
they were at once boarded and captured. The Moham-
medans were paralyzed at this sudden and unexpected
reverse, and the remainder of the fleet were hastily
ordered off to Beirut, towards which they made the
best of their way, the army riding alongside of them
upon the shore to cover their flight. Before, how-
ever, they had got far, the Frank vessels came suddenly
down upon them, and the Mohammedan sailors, pre-
cipitating themselves into the water, made hastily for
the shore, leaving their vessels without a soul on board.
One schooner alone managed to elude her pursuers,
and got off with all her crew. When the Christians
came upon the deserted vessels (which they still
believed to be full of men), they fancied that the
Mohammedans were too terrified to give them battle,
and poured tumultuously out upon the shore and
attacked the main body of Saladin's troops. The
latter had by this time somewhat recovered their
presence of mind, and gave them a warm reception ; a
desperate conflict took place, and the Franks were at last
driven back towards the town. Two of their leaders
fell into the enemy's hands, and ' a great count ' was
also taken prisoner. El Melek ed Dhahir, who had
not taken part in any of the previous engagements, at
once ordered the last-mentioned prisoner to be be-
headed, and the Mohammedans, believing him to be
the Marquis of Montferrat himself (whom he did
resemble in form and features), were greatly delighted
BREAK-UP OF THE SULTAN'S CAMP. 439
at the supposed death of so formidable an antagonist.
But they had experienced a very heavy blow, and would
fain have compelled the sultan to relinquish the enter-
prise against Tyre and return home. Saladin, how-
ever, reproached them with their faint-heartedness, and,
partly by bribes, partly by persuasion, induced them to
persevere.
As a slight compensation for his recent losses and
defeats, he received news about this time of the capitu-
lation of the fortress of Hunin, which had been for
some time besieged by one of his officers.
The troops now began to suffer so severely from the
winter cold and rains that Saladin was obliged, though
with extreme reluctance, to raise the siege of Tyre. He
had expended immense sums of money upon his engines
of war ; but these were for the most part too bulky to
remove, while to leave them behind would be to
strengthen the hands of the besieged. Some, there-
fore, which it was possible to take to pieces and pack
up, were sent on to Sidon, while others, which could
not be so provided for, were set fire to and destroyed.
The army then broke up into several divisions, and
departed with the understanding that they were to
come back again in the early part of the spring and
resume the siege. The sultan himself moved on to
Acre and camped outside the city ; but the cold
presently became so intense that he was compelled to
seek shelter within the walls. Remaining here in
winter quarters, he occupied himself in regulating and
improving the public institutions of the town. With
the first mild days of spring Saladin was again on the
move, and, as the whole complement of the army
had not yet come up, he determined to commence the
new campaign by laying siege to the fortress of Kokeb ;
44o JERUSALEM.
but this proved a longer and more difficult task than he
had anticipated.
"While the sultan was at Kokeb he received a visit
from the widow of Renaud, Prince of Kerek, who came
to beg for the release of her son Humphrey. She was
accompanied by the queen and her daughter, who had
also married Renaud's son. Saladin received them
with great courtesy, and agreed with the Princess of
Kerek for the release of her son on condition that the
two fortresses of Kerek and Shobek should surrender
at discretion to his arms. Having exacted a promise
from her to this effect, Humphrey was sent for from
Damascus, and proceeded with his mother and a de-
tachment of Mohammedan troops to arrange for the ful-
filment of the terms of the contract. But the people of
Kerek were by no means disposed to become a ransom
for the young count, and met the widow's demand for
them to lay down their arms with coarse jeers and
opprobrious language. At Shobek she fared no better,
and was after all constrained to return to the sultan
with the humiliating confession that she had not suffi-
cient authority over her troops to carry out the stipula-
tions. Saladin, like a true and noble gentleman as he
was, disdained to take a mean advantage of her failure,
and allowed both the lady and her son to proceed to
Tyre. In the meantime he sent troops to reduce Kerek
and Shobek. Kokeb still maintained an obstinate
resistance, and Saladin, leaving an officer with five
hundred men behind him to continue the siege, and
posting a regiment of five hundred cavalry at Safad to
harass the Christians in that quarter, left for Damascus,
which he reached on the 5th of March, 1187. Here he
received intelligence of the approach of his army from
the east, and, remaining only a week in his capital, he
A SSA ULT OF BURZIYEH. 44i
again set out for Baalbekk, whence he marched on to
Lebweh, and was there joined by 'Emad-ed-din, Lord of
Sanjar, with his division. Disencumbering themselves
of all the heavy baggage, the combined forces hurried
on to the sea-coast. Several months were consumed in
military operations against the Franks without any
decisive engagement taking place, though one after
another, Jebeleh, Laodicea, Sion, Bekas, and other
towns and fortresses fell into the sultan's hands, and
materially increased his resources by the quantity of
arms and provisions which they contained. The fort of
Burziyeh gave him more trouble. This castle enjoyed
the reputation of being the strongest in Palestine, and
was situated upon a lofty mountain nearly 1,700 feet
high, with steep escarpments, and surrounded by deep
valleys. Notwithstanding its formidable character,
Saladin determined to attack it, and on the morning
after his arrival (August 21st) he ascended the heights
with his troops, both cavalry and infantry, and the
whole of his siege train, and surrounded the fortress
on every side. For two days and nights a continuous
assault was made upon the walls with the battering-
rams, and projectiles were thrown into the midst of the
castle without intermission. On the morning of the
23rd preparations were made for taking the place by
storm : the whole army was divided into three parts,
each of which was to carry on the assault for a portion
of the day, so as to give the besieged no interval of
rest. The first division, under 'Emad-ed-din, com-
menced the attack with the early morning light, and
the contest raged on both sides with unexampled fury ;
at last 'Emad-ed-din's men, beginning to flag, were re-
lieved by the second division, commanded by the sultan
in person. Placing himself at the head of the storm-
442 JERUSALEM.
ing-party, Saladin called out to his soldiers to follow
him to victory : answering his appeal by a long and
enthusiastic shout, they swarmed like one man up the
rocks and battlements, carrying everything before them,
and poured into the fortress. The defenders, driven
back from the walls, now began to cry out for quarter ;
but it was too late, the blood of the Muslims was fairly
aroused, and even Saladin's presence and authority
could not for some time stop the indiscriminate
slaughter. At last order was partially restored, the
prisoners — an immense number — were secured, and the
soldiers, loaded with booty, returned in triumph to their
tents. Amongst the captives were the sister of the
Prince of Antioch (to whom the castle belonged), her
husband, daughter, and son-in-law ; these were all
treated by the conqueror with the greatest kindness and
consideration, and were, together with a few of their
immediate followers, allowed to depart free and un-
molested. The fall of Burziyeh was closely followed
by that of Diresak and Bukras, both strongholds of the
Templars near Antioch. The last of the two was a
great depot of provisions, and by its capture a large
quantity of grain fell into the Saracens' hands.
Saladin next turned his attention to Antioch itself,
but the prince of that town, knowing that it was not
sufficiently well furnished either with provisions or arms
to support a long siege, deemed it more prudent to
come to terms. A truce was therefore concluded for
five months, and an exchange of prisoners made.
At Bukras the sultan took leave of 'Emad-ed-din,
Zanghi, and the Syrian contingent, who had done him
good service in the late campaign. Both the chief and
his soldiery received substantial marks of Saladin's
gratitude, who bestowed upon them liberal presents in
SUCCESSES IN SYRIA. 443
addition to the share of prize-money which had been
already allotted to them.
Saladin then proceeded with his own army by way of
Aleppo, Hamath, and Baalbekk to Damascus, whither
his men were desirous of returning in time to keep the
fast of Ramadhan. Anxiety, however, for the success
of the military operations which he had confided to his
various generals would not allow him to remain long in
idleness, and in the beginning of October he set out for
Safad. On the way he was joined by his brother, El
Melik el ''Adil, who had just concluded the siege of
Kerek in Moab, that place having capitulated after
a protracted resistance. Safad held out until the
30th of November, when it was ceded to Saladin's
forces ; the defenders obtained quarter by the release of
a number of Muslim prisoners, who were in their hands,
and received permission to withdraw to Tyre. The
Christians hoped to make up for the loss of this im-
portant stronghold by strengthening their position at
Kokeb, which was blockaded by one of Saladin's
generals. They accordingly despatched two hundred
picked men to lie in wait for the Muslims at a certain
difficult part of the road and attack them at a dis-
advantage. But a company of Mohammedan troops
happened to come across a straggler from this party,
who, to save himself, betrayed his companions, and
pointed out the ambuscade in the valley. The whole
two hundred were captured and brought to the Saracen
leader. Amongst the prisoners were two chiefs of the
Knights Hospitallers, and being carried before the
sultan, one of them said, ' Thank God, we shall come
to no harm, now that we have looked upon your
highness's face.'
'This speech,' says the Arab writer, 'must have been
444 JERUSALEM.
dictated by Divine inspiration, for nothing else could
have induced the sultan to spare their lives ; as it was,
he set them both at liberty.'
The great addition to the besieging force, combined
with the extreme cold and scarcity of provisions, proved
too much for the endurance of the garrison of Kokeb,
and in the beginning of January, 1189, it was added to
the list of the sultan's conquests. After this, Saladin
and his brother returned to Jerusalem, where the latter
took leave of him and set out for Egypt with his
division of the army.
The sultan then proceeded to Acre, and spent some
time in fortifying and otherwise providing for the safety
and good government of the town, which he handed
over to the care of one Baha-ed-din Caracosh, who had,
in the meantime, arrived from Egypt with a large fol-
lowing. Towards the end of March he commenced a
tour of inspection throughout his Syrian dominions,
visiting in turn Tiberias, Damascus, and other places.
On the 21st of April he reached the Shakif Arnon,
near which he encamped in the plain called Merj 'Ayun.
The fortress of the Shakif was in the hands of Renaud,
Lord of Sidon, who came in person to the sultan, and
begged for three months' grace to enable him to remove
his family from Tyre, alleging that, if the Marquis of
Montferrat should get intelligence of what he had done,
his family would be detained there as hostages. The
sultan acceded to his request, and refrained from
attacking his castle. Renaud, however, took advantage
of this leniency to strengthen his own position, and
made secret but active preparations for war. Saladin,
discovering the treachery, gave orders for blockading
the fort, whereupon Renaud again endeavoured to
induce him to grant a year's cessation of hostilities ;
ACRE INVESTED. 445
but the sultan was not to be deceived a second time,
and, some officers he had sent to inspect the castle
reporting that the work of fortification was still being
carried on, arrested the count, and sent him a prisoner
to Banias. Sending for him a few days afterwards, he
upbraided him with his perfidy, and despatched him
for safe keeping to Damascus. As for the castle, the
sultan established a close blockade, although it was full
twelve months before it was finally ceded to his
lieutenant. While the sultan was encamped in the
Merj 'Ayun, the Frank forces were concentrating
around Tyre, which the marquis had contrived to make
the greatest stronghold in Syria, and in which the last
hope of the Christian arms was placed.
On the 3rd of July they made an attempt upon Sidon,
but were repulsed by Saladin — whose scouts brought
him timely notice of the manoeuvre — though not with-
out considerable loss on either side.
After this Saladin retired to Tiberias, and occupied
some time in making preparation for a decisive attack
upon the Christian camp. Meanwhile, the Christians
were by no means idle, but dispersed themselves over
the country in various directions, committing much
depredation, and harassing the Mohammedan troops,
who were continually falling into their ambuscades.
On the 22nd of August Saladin received news that
the Franks had collected their forces by land and sea,
and were bearing down upon Acre, a detachment
having already reached Alexandretta, where they had
had a slight skirmish with the Muslims. The sultan
hastily issued orders for collecting the army together,
and hurried off to the relief of the town. Having
arrived at Sefuriyeh, he left his heavy baggage, and
pushed on to Acre with all speed ; but the Franks
446 JERUSALEM.
were before him, and had already invested the place,
rendering the approach impossible for his troops.
On the 13th of September he made a desperate on-
slaught upon the besieging lines, drove the Franks to a
hill called Tell es Siyasiyeh, and thus established a free
communication with the city on the north side.
On the 21st of September the Franks assembled
towards the close of the day and attacked the Muslims
in full force ; the latter, however, withstood the shock,
and both sides fought with great fury, but night coming
on compelled them to desist from hostilities.
On the 24th the sultan moved to Tell es Siyasiyeh,
which, from its commanding position, appeared to him
a very important post to occupy. Here information
was brought him that the Franks^ were dispersed over
the country in foraging parties, and, without loss of
time, he despatched companies of Arabs, whose
familiarity with guerilla warfare peculiarly adapted
them for such service, to intercept them. The Bedawin
horsemen bore down upon the small detached parties,
cut them off from the camp, and, slaughtering them
almost without resistance, carried their heads in
triumph to Saladin.
On the 3rd of October the Franks made a desperate
onslaught upon Saladin's troops ; a fierce battle ensued,
in which victory inclined to the Christians, and the
Muslims were compelled to flee, some to Tiberias, and
others to Damascus. While the victors were occupied
in pillaging the sultan's camp a panic suddenly seized
them ; the Muslims rallied, and attacked their left,
completely defeating them, and killing more than five
thousand cavalry, amongst whom was the Grand
Master of the Templars. The bodies of the Franks
lay in such numbers on the field of battle that the
ARRIVAL OF THE EGYPTIAN FLEET. 447
Muslims were much annoyed by the stench, and the
soldiers were employed for some days in throwing the
carcasses into the sea.
Saladin now dismissed the Egyptian contingent,
bidding them return in the spring, and both sides pre-
pared for the winter, which was already setting in with
great severity. The Franks fortified their camp, and
dug a fosse round the town of Acre, extending from
sea to sea. The sultan had, in the meantime, removed
to his old camp at Kharubeh, where the heavy bag-
gage lay. The news that the Emperor of Germany,
Frederick Barbarossa, was en route for Syria stimulated
both parties to further exertions, and the warlike pre-
parations went on with greater activity than ever.
On the 13th of December the Egyptian fleet — which
the sultan had ordered to be prepared on the first
landing of the Franks at Acre — arrived, with a com-
plement of more than ten thousand men. This
reinforcement gave great confidence to the Muslim
troops, and constant raids were made by the new-
comers upon the Christian lines. The arrival of a
Frank ship, laden with women, about this time, seemed
to have demoralized both armies ; for the ladies appear
to have been somewhat indifferent as to religion and
nationality, and to have bestowed their favours upon
Christian and Muslim alike, according as one or the
other happened to meet them on landing. The Arab
writers, however, speak of many Christian women who
were animated by the true Crusading spirit ; and it was
no uncommon occurrence to find upon the field of battle,
or amongst the prisoners, many champions of the
softer sex. The new year, a.d. 1190, came in, and
found things in statu quo, the town besieged by the
Franks, and the latter in turn hemmed in by the sultan's
448 JERUSALEM.
forces. Saladin himself, ever actively engaged in inspect-
ing his lines, was exposed to constant dangers ; on one
occasion, having ventured out hunting on the beach, he
would inevitably have been taken prisoner by a party
of the enemy, had not the advanced guard of his
own army, which was stationed in the neighbourhood,
luckily come up in time to effect a rescue. Constant
communications were kept up between the town and the
sultan's army by means of carrier pigeons and of divers,
who managed to swim past the enemy's lines, and carry
letters and money to and fro between them. The
Franks had constructed towers, battering-rams, and
other engines of war, with great skill, and would have,
no doubt, accomplished the taking of the city by storm,
had it not been for a certain cunning artificer from
Damascus, who succeeded in destroying them one by
one with rockets, naphtha, and other combustibles,
which he directed upon the works.
The winter and spring passed away without any
decisive change in the relative position of the two
armies ; but on the 13th of June, 1190, a second naval
reinforcement arrived from Egypt, and the sultan
endeavoured, by an attack by land, to divert the atten-
tion of the enemy, and enable the marines to land.
The Frank ships, however, were not idle, and several
severe engagements took place by sea, in which the
Muslims had decidedly the disadvantage. Presently
news arrived that the Emperor of Germany had
crossed over from Constantinople, and had been for
more than a month, during the severest season of
winter, in great straits, his army being compelled to
devour their cavalry horses for want of food, and to
burn their pontoons in the absence of firewood.
On reaching Tarsus the army halted to drink at the
DISASTERS OF THE GERMAN ARMY. 449
river which flows by the city, and the emperor being
driven, in the crowd and confusion, to a deep part of
the stream, where there was a rapid current, was
hurried away by the force of the stream, received a
blow on the head from an overhanging bough, and was
taken out in an insensible and almost lifeless condition.
A violent chill and fever were the result, which ter-
minated after a few hours in his death. His son
succeeded him in the command, and arrived at Acre
with the remnant of a fine army in a miserable plight,
and entirely dispirited by such a succession of re-
verses.
The Franks, when they heard of the approach of
the son of the Emperor of Germany, were afraid that
he would appropriate all the credit of the campaign,
and determined to make a final effort before he arrived.
Accordingly at noon, on the 25th of July, they attacked
the camp of El Melik el "Adil. He withstood the
charge, and managed to drive back the enemy without
waiting for the rest of the troops to come up. At this
juncture the sultan arrived upon the scene with a large
number of men, and attacked the Franks in the rear.
A complete victory for the Muslims was the result,
more than ten thousand of the enemy falling, with a
loss, it is said, of only ten men on the other side.
The arrival of Count Henry with a large following
and much wealth gave fresh courage to the disheartened
Christian forces. The count distributed large sums
amongst the soldiery ; and the siege of Acre was pro-
secuted with more vigour than ever. Provisions now
became very scarce and dear in the Christian camp, and
many of the soldiers, compelled by actual starvation,
came over as deserters to the Mohammedan lines.
A few battles were fought, always with disadvantage
29
45o JERUSALEM.
to the Franks, many of whom were also killed or taken
prisoner in the ambuscades which the Muslims were
continually laying for them. On the 31st of December
seven ships arrived from Egypt with provisions for the
relief of the town, and while the inhabitants were en-
gaged in assisting them to escape the enemy's fleet and
get into port, the Christians took advantage of the walls
being partially deserted, to make a desperate effort to
take the place by storm. The scaling-ladders, how-
ever, broke with the weight of the men ; the storming-
parties were thrown into disorder, and the Muslims, on
the alarm being given, left the ships to themselves, and
rushing up to the walls drove back or cut to pieces
their assailants. The incident was disastrous to both
sides, for a sudden storm coming on carried the seven
ships out to sea, where they perished with all the crews
and supplies. A few nights afterwards, a portion of
the eastern wall of the city fell down, but the defenders
thrust their bodies into the breach so promptly, that
the Franks were unable to take advantage of the
opportunity.
Two curious stories are told of this period of the
war. One is, that a party of Frank renegades, having
obtained possession of a small vessel, landed upon the
Island of Cyprus during the celebration of a feast.
They immediately proceeded to the principal church of
the place, entered it, and mixed with the congregation
who were assembled there in prayer. Suddenly they
started up, locked the door, and completely sacked the
building, carrying away more than twenty-seven
prisoners, women and children, whom they sold at
Laodicaea. The other story is that some Moham-
medan, looting the Christian camp, had stolen an
infant, three months old, from its mother's arms. The
PRISONERS BURNT ALIVE. 451
>ereaved parent rushed over to the enemy's camp,
ind, before she could be stopped by the guards and
:hamberlains, appeared before the sultan's tents,
amenting her loss, and beseeching him to restore her
:hild. Saladin caused inquiries to be made, and find-
ng that the infant had been purchased by one of his
oldiers, ransomed it with his own hand, and gave it
>ack to its mother.
A brig belonging to the Mohammedans and bound
or Acre, with seven hundred men onboard and a large
mantity of arms and munitions of war, came into
collision with one of King Richard's English vessels.
rhe Mohammedan captain, finding himself worsted in
he fight, burnt his ship, which perished with all hands,
rhis was the first serious disaster which the Moham-
nedans had experienced. In June, 1190, hostilities
vere carried on with renewed vigour, and engagements
vere of daily occurrence. On one occasion, after a
light skirmish, the Franks retired with a single cap-
ive, and having got out of bow-shot of the Muslim
amp they made a bonfire and roasted their prisoner
live. The Muslims, maddened at the insult and
arbarity, brought out one of their Frank prisoners,
nd, by way of reprisal, burnt him in front of their
nes. El 'Emad, Saladin's secretary, who relates the
icident, describes with much feeling the effect pro-
uced upon the minds of all the spectators by this
xhibition of savage ferocity.
The crisis was evidently approaching. The Franks
udeavoured to delude the sultan into inactivity by pro-
osals for peace, while they were at the same time
astening on their preparations for a final assault upon
ere. Saladin, however, was constantly informed of
ie state of things within the city, and knew that it
29 — 2
452 JERUSALEM.
could not hold out much longer ; he therefore refused
to listen to terms, but used all means in his power to
force on a battle, and on the night of the 2nd of July
he attacked the enemy's trenches, and succeeded in
forcing a position at one, though not a very important,
point.
At this juncture, Seif-ed-din el Mashtub, momentarily
expecting the city to be taken by storm, came out with
a flag of truce to make an offer of capitulation, and
demand quarter on behalf of the inhabitants. King
Richard received him with his usual bluntness, and
refused to grant the request. When El Mashtub re-
minded him of the clemency which his master Saladin
had exercised upon similar occasions, Richard answered
curtly : * These kings whom thou seest around me are
my servants ; but as for you, ye are my slaves ; I shall
do with you as I please.' The Saracen emir returned
to Acre highly indignant at this discourteous treatment,
and swore that the fall of the city should cost the
victors dear.
When El Mashtub made known the ill-success of his
errand many of the chief men and emirs of Acre de-
serted the city, to the great chagrin of the sultan, who
condemned them to forfeiture of their estates, and other
pains and penalties. This severity, and the charge of
cowardice, induced some to return and take part once
more in the defence of the town.
On the 4th of July a great battle took place, and lasted
until the morning of the 5th, but without any decided
advantage on either side. Evening again came and
found them in the same position ; the city surrounded
by the enemy, and the enemy surrounded by Saladin's
army. But on Saturday the 6th the Prince of Sidon
sallied forth from the trenches with about forty knights,
PROPOSALS FOR CAPITULATION. 453
and rode into the sultan's camp carrying a flag 0*
truce. Saladin sent Najib-ed-din, one of his confi-
dential officers, to arrange with him the terms on which
the city should be capitulated. At first the Franks
refused to listen to any other terms than the complete
surrender of all the Christian possessions in Syria and
Palestine, and the release of all the captives. It was
then proposed that Acre should be ceded to the Chris-
tians, that its garrison and inhabitants should be
allowed to leave unmolested, and that an exchange
of prisoners should be made, one Christian being re-
leased by the Muslims for every one of their own men
given up by the Christians. These terms were also
refused, and Saladin's magnificent offer to throw the
'True Cross' into the bargain could not induce them
to agree. Perhaps the relic had fallen into disfavour
after its failure at Tiberias, or it might be that the
Crusaders were beginning to rely more upon their own
military prowess than upon the childish superstitions
of the fetish-worshipping monks.
On the 22nd of July the Christians effected a breach
in the walls, and were with difficulty prevented from
entering the city. El Mashtub again sought Richard's
camp with offers of capitulation, and this time with
better success. It was agreed that the lives and pro-
perty of the defenders of Acre should be spared on con-
dition of their paying two hundred thousand dinars,
releasing five hundred captives, and giving up possession
of the True Cross.
Suddenly, therefore, much to the sultan's surprise and
annoyance, the Christian standards were seen flying
from the walls of Acre. He immediately despatched
Baha-ed-din Caracosh to make the best arrangements
possible, and promised to pay half the amount of the
454 JERUSALEM.
indemnity at once, and give hostages for the settlement
of the remainder of the claim within a month. Hos-
tilities were not suspended in the meantime, and the
Franks, having made several sallies from their new
position at Acre, suffered severely from the Arab horse-
men, who continually came down unexpectedly on
them and cut off their retreat.
In the beginning of August messengers came from
the Christian camp to demand payment of the sum
agreed upon. The first instalment of a hundred
thousand dinars was given up to them, but Saladin
refused to pay the rest, or to hand over the captives
until he had received some guarantee that the Chris-
tians would perform their part of the contract, and
allow the prisoners from Acre to go free. After
numerous delays and disagreements everything ap-
peared at last likely to be satisfactorily arranged ; the
money was weighed out and placed before Saladin, the
captives were ready to be delivered up, and the ' True
Cross ' was also displayed. Richard was encamped
close by the Merj 'Ayun, and had caused the Acre
captives to be ranged behind him on the neighbouring
hillside. Suddenly, at a signal from the king, the
Christian soldiers turned upon the unhappy and help-
less captives, and massacred them all in cold blood.
Even at such a moment as this Saladin did not forget
his humane disposition and his princely character. The
proud Saladin disdained to sully his honour by making
reprisals upon the unarmed prisoners at his side ; he
simply refused to give up the money or the cross, and
sent the prisoners back to Damascus.
Which was the Paynim, and which the Christian,
then ?
In the first week of September the Franks deter-
DESTRUCTION OF ASCALON. 455
mined to march upon Ascalon, and, having provided
for the safety of Acre, set off in that direction. El
Afdhal, who was in command of the advanced guard,
intercepted them on their road, and managed to divide
them into two separate parties. He then sent off
an express to his father Saladin, requesting him to come
to his assistance, but the officers of the sultan repre-
sented to him that the army was not yet prepared to
move ; the opportunity was therefore lost, and the
Franks were enabled to pass on to Caesarea. The Mus-
lims, however, shortly afterwards started in pursuit,
and on the nth of September they came up with the
enemy, and a bloody battle was fought by the Nahr el
Casb near Caesarea. The next day both armies moved
off to Arsuf; a battle took place on the road, and the
Franks retired with considerable loss into the town,
while the Muslims encamped on the banks of the River
'Aujeh.
In a few days they again fought their way along the
coast, and on the 19th of September the Christian
army succeeded in reaching Jaffa, while the sultan
with his troops encamped at Ramleh on the afternoon
of the same day.
Here he waited for the heavy baggage, and when
this arrived in charge of his brother, El ''Adil, he moved
on to Ascalon. A council of war was immediately held,
at which it was decided to destroy the fortifications of
the last-named town. As the Franks were in posses-
sion of Jaffa, which lies about half-way between Ascalon
and Jerusalem, it was clearly impossible to defend both
towns without the maintenance of an overwhelming
force in each, and as Saladin felt sure that Ascalon, if
besieged, would share the fate of Acre, he determined
to raze it to the ground, and concentrate his efforts
456 JERUSALEM.
upon the defence of Jerusalem. The work of demoli-
tion was at once commenced, and the city, one of the
finest in Palestine, soon became a mass of ruins ; the
inhabitants suffered severely by this transaction, for
they were obliged to sell their property at ruinous
prices, and dispersed themselves over the country, to
find a home where best they could.
The intermediate fortresses of Lydda, Ramleh, and
Latrun were next destroyed, and on the 14th of Octo-
ber the sultan camped on a high hill near the latter
town. A few unimportant engagements had in the
meantime taken place between the two armies, in one
of which Richard narrowly escaped being taken pri-
soner.
Negotiations were now reopened between El Melik
el ' Adil and King Richard, and a peace was actually
arranged, upon the stipulation that Richard should
give his sister in marriage to El ''Adil, and that the
husband and wife should occupy the throne of Jeru-
salem, and jointly rule over the Holy Land. The
Grand Masters of the Templars and Hospitallers were
to occupy certain villages, but they were not to retain
possession of any of their castles. The queen was to
have no military attendants in Jerusalem, although a
certain number of priests and monks were still to be
allowed there.
El ''Adil called the principal men of the army around
him, El 'Emad, Saladin's secretary, amongst the num-
ber, and deputed them to consult the sultan's wishes
upon the subject. The latter agreed to the conditions,
and on the 30th of October the messengers returned to
King Richard to inform him of the acceptance of his
proposal.
The Frank chiefs, however, strongly opposed the
FA IL URE OF NEGOTIA TIONS. 45
match, while the priests poisoned the princess's mind,
and induced her to withdraw from the engagement,
except on the condition that El ''Adil should embrace
the Christian religion. This, of course, he declined to
do, and the negotiations fell through. The sultan then
moved off to Ramleh, so as to be nearer the enemy.
Here news was brought him that the Franks had made
a sortie at Barzur ; hastening against them, he ap-
proached their camp and completely surrounded it,
but the Christians charged fiercely and suddenly, and
broke through the Mohammedan ranks.
On the 18th another conference was held between
El "Adil and the King of England, but again their
attempts at negotiations failed. The Lord of Sidon,
who had come from Tyre, was more fortunate, and con-
cluded a peace with the sultan, hoping by this means
to strengthen his own hands against Richard. The
latter, on this, again renewed his proposals, but they,
as usual, came to nothing, for whenever an arrange-
ment was on the point of being concluded his bad faith
or stupidity rendered it abortive.
There was now no longer any doubt but that the
Franks were bent upon the conquest of the Holy City,
and as winter was coming on apace, the sultan retired,
on the 14th of December, within the walls of Jerusa-
lem, and occupied himself with the fortification of the
town. He, however, provided for the safety of the
country between Jerusalem and Jaffa by posting
brigades of soldiers in the various passes and defiles
upon the road.
A party of workmen opportunely arrived at this time
from Mosul, despatched by the sovereign of that place,
who also sent money to pay them. These were em-
ployed in digging the trenches, and remained six
458 JERUSALEM.
months engaged upon the work. In addition to this,
Saladin built a strong wall round the town, at which
he compelled more than two thousand Frank prisoners
to labour. He repaired the towers and battlements
between the Damascus and Jaffa gates, expending
upon them an immense sum of money, and employing
in their construction the large stones which were
quarried out in cutting the trench. His sons, his
brother, El ''Adil, and other princes of his court, acted
as overseers of the work, whilst he himself daily rode
about from station to station encouraging the labourers,
and even bringing in building-stones upon the pommel
of his saddle. His example was followed by all classes
of inhabitants, and the work of fortification went on
with great rapidity. By the beginning of the year
1192 the wall was completed, the trenches were dug,
and the inhabitants awaited with complacency the
arrival of the besieging army. On the 20th of January
the Franks left Ramleh, and had advanced as far as
Ascalon, when they suddenly changed their intention
of marching upon Jerusalem and stayed to rebuild the
demolished city. El Mashtub, who had been taken
prisoner by the Franks, but had purchased his ransom
for the sum of fifty thousand dinars, of which he had
actually paid thirty thousand (and given pledges for
the rest), came to Jerusalem on the 18th of March.
The sultan received him graciously, and gave him the
town of Nablus and its vicinity as a compensation for
his heavy pecuniary loss. The general did not, how-
ever, live long to enjoy his good fortune, but died in
the course of the year, bequeathing a third of his estate
to the sultan, and leaving the rest to his son.
On the 29th of March the Marquis of Montferrat was
assassinated at Tyre by two men as he was leaving the
FORT DARUM TAKEN. 459
house of the bishop, where he had just been entertained
at a repast. The murderers were at once arrested,
and put to an ignominious death ; not, however, until
they had confessed that it was the King of England
who had instigated them to the deed. Many attempts
have been made by historians to clear King Richard's
character from this foul blot, and a letter purporting to
come from the ' Old Man of the Mountain ' accepting
the responsibility of the act is triumphantly appealed
to. The document in question is, however, a trans-
parent forgery, and the unscrupulous character and
savage brutality of the lion-hearted king afford only too
good reason for believing the dying testimony of the
actual perpetrators of the crime. At any rate, Richard
alone profited by it, and obtained possession of Tyre,
which he subsequently made over to Count Henry of
Champagne. On the death of the marquis, Richard
again endeavoured to come to terms with Saladin,
proposing to divide the country equally between the
latter and himself, and to leave all Jerusalem and its
fortifications in possession of the Muslims, with the
sole exception of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
A greal reverse was experienced by the Moham-
medans about this time by the fall of Darum, a strong
fortress, situated on the border of the Egyptian
territory beyond Gaza. The Franks stormed the town
after having effected a breach in the walls, and refused
quarter to the inhabitants. The governor, finding all
hope of further resistance gone, escaped to Hebron ; the
superintendent of stores, however, remained, and
determining that the besiegers should reap as little
profit as possible from their conquest, hamstrung all
the beasts of burden and burnt them. When the
Christians entered the city they put nearly every one
460 JERUSALEM.
of the inhabitants to the sword, reserving only a few
prisoners, for whom they thought they might obtain a
heavy ransom. Several other engagements took place
in the same neighbourhood, in which the Franks were
not so successful, and on the 3rd of April they divided
their camp into two parties, one making its headquarters
at Ascalon, and the other pitching at Beit Jibrin.
Jerusalem was now threatened with an immediate
attack, but the vigilance of the sultan warded off the
blow, and a determined sortie compelled the enemy to
retire to Colonia.
The sultan had sent frequent messengers to Egypt
to hurry on the departure of the army which was being
levied in that country for the relief of Jerusalem.
Falek-ed-din, El ''Adil's brother, who was in command,
pitched his tents at Bilbeys ; whence, as soon as his
numbers were complete, he set off, followed by an
immense concourse of merchants and traders who had
taken advantage of the military escort across the
desert. On the 23rd of June news reached the sultan
that the Egyptian contingent were on the march, but
that, relying on their numbers, they were proceeding
without due caution, while the King of England with a
large force was lying in wait for them upon the road.
Saladin sent off an officer at the head of a division to
meet the approaching force, with orders to conduct
them round by the desert and take them over the River
of El Hesy before the enemy should come upon them.
Falek-ed-din, however, did not take any means to
inform himself concerning the place of rendezvous, but
taking the shortest road, and sending his heavy
baggage round by another way, he called a halt, and
encamped for the night beside a spring called El
Khaweilifeh. With the early dawn next morning the
ROUT OF THE EGYPTIAN CONTINGENT. 461
enemy came suddenly upon them, and a scene of in-
describable confusion ensued. The Muslims started
up from their sleep, ran frantically off in any direction
that was open to them, and thus escaped in the
twilight. Their baggage, arms, and equipments fell, of
course, into the enemy's hands ; this was so far fortu-
nate, for if the Franks loved slaughter well, they loved
plunder better, and there was sufficient to turn their
attention from pursuing the fugitives of the Egyptian
force thus completely broken up and routed ; some
wandered back to Egypt, not a few were lost in the
desert, and a miserable remnant found their way by
Kerak to Jerusalem, where the sultan received them
kindly and condoled with them upon their misfortune.
The Crusaders, being unsuccessful against Jerusalem,
determined to make an expedition against Beirut, as
the occupation of that port was most important for
their communications with home, and its conquest
seemed likely to prove an easy matter.
But they had miscalculated the tactics of the man
with whom they had to deal ; Saladin, who appears
throughout to have possessed the fullest information
respecting their movements, sent orders to his son, El
Afdhal, at Damascus, to prepare for their reception.
Accordingly, when they reached the sea-coast of Syria
they found Beirut occupied by the Damascene troops,
and a large army awaiting them in the Merj 'Ayun,
which prevented the Franks in Acre from coming to the
assistance of their comrades. Taking advantage, also,
of their absence, Saladin bore down upon Jaffa, which,
in the absence of King Richard, could not hold out for
long. The Muslims had already effected an entry into
the city, and were about to take possession of the
fortress, when Saladin, who could never refuse a
462 JERUSALEM.
petition for quarter, and whose experience of the
Crusaders' good faith had not yet taught him prudence,
allowed himself to be prevailed upon by promises of
submission on the part of the patriarch and other chief
men of the town to grant a day's delay and treat about
the terms of capitulation. Of this concession the
Christians, as usual, took a mean advantage, and while
they deluded the sultan with false oaths and promises,
they were sending express messengers to hasten the
return of Richard, who unexpectedly arrived by sea in
the very midst of the negotiations and took possession
of the citadel. The Muslims thus lost much of the
advantage which their victory gave them, but they still
retained possession of the town itself, and recovered
the greater part of the property which had been
plundered from the Egyptian contingent.
Both parties were now at a dead-lock ; the Franks
on their side could not hope to take Jerusalem, and the
Muslims on theirs were unable to drive the Christians
out of the country. Richard was the first to propose
an armistice ; but Saladin still held out, and strenu-
ously urged upon his officers the necessity for con-
tinuing the jehad, or ' Holy War.' But the Moham-
medan chiefs were weary of continued fighting without
decisive results, and as strongly urged upon the sultan
that the army required rest, and that peace was abso-
lutely necessary to enable the country to recover its
industrial activity, the repression of which had already
caused so much misery to the inhabitants. An appeal
to Saladin on behalf of a suffering community was
never made in vain, and he consented to forego the
attractions of military glory for the sake of his people's
prosperity. A truce of three years and eight months,
both by land and sea, was ultimately agreed upon, com-
A TRUCE CONCLUDED. 463
mencing 2nd of September, 1192. The crusading
princes and generals took solemn oaths to observe the
conditions of the treaty, with the sole exception of
King Richard, who held out his hand to the Saracen
sultan, and said that ' There was his hand upon it,
but a king's word might be taken without an oath.'
Saladin returned his grasp, and professed himself satis-
fied with that mode of ratifying the truce. He prob-
ably felt that in this frank and cordial demonstration
he had a better guarantee of Richard's good faith than
any oath would have afforded ; for bitter experience
had taught him that so long as an unscrupulous priest
remained to give the sanction of the Church to an act
of perfidious meanness, a Crusader's oath was of little
value. The terms of the truce were, that the sea-board
from Jaffa to Csesarea, and from Acre to Tyre, should
remain in the hands of the Franks, and that Ascalon
should not be rebuilt ; the sultan, on his side, insisted
that the territory of the Ismaelites should be included
in the truce, and the Franks on theirs demanded a
similar privilege for Antioch and Tripoli ; Lydda and
Ramleh were to be considered common ground.
Saladin, on the conclusion of the truce, occupied him-
self in strengthening the walls and fortifications of
Jerusalem ; and the Crusaders, having free access to
the city, commenced visiting the Holy Sepulchre in
crowds, and, to judge from the accounts given of their
behaviour, this privilege, for which they had been
fighting so long, was after all but lightly esteemed.
King Richard begged Saladin not to allow anyone to
visit the city without a written passport from himself,
hoping by this means to keep up the devotional long-
ings of his followers, and so to induce them to return at
the expiration of the truce. Saladin's keen penetration
464 JERUSALEM.
at once detected the impolicy of such a step, while his
sense of honour revolted against its discourtesy; the
request was, therefore, refused. Richard shortly after
this fell ill, and leaving the government in the hands of
his nephew, Count Henry, he sailed away, and left the
Holy Land for ever. Saladin, whose restless energy
and religious zeal would not allow him to remain long
in idleness, prepared for a pilgrimage to Mecca, and
had actually written to Egypt and to Arabia to make
the necessary arrangements ; but at the instance of his
officers, who represented to him the urgent need which
the country stood in of his presence, he relinquished
his intention.
After a tour through Syria, in the course of which he
provided for the safety and good government of the
towns through which he passed, redressing the wrongs
of the people, punishing those who exercised injustice
or oppression, and rewarding all whose administration
had been moderate and just, he returned to Damascus,
after an absence of four years, during the whole of
which time he had been incessantly occupied in the
prosecution of the Holy War. His arrival was hailed
with the greatest demonstrations of joy ; the city was
illuminated, and for days the people made holiday to
celebrate the return of their beloved sovereign, the
saviour of El Islam. But their joy was short-lived, for
on the 21st of February, 1193, he was seized with a
bilious fever, and after lingering for twelve days he ex-
pired, and was buried in the citadel of Damascus, in
the apartments in which he died. A short time after-
wards the sultan's remains were removed to the tomb
which they now occupy, in the vicinity of the Great
Mosque, and which had been prepared for their recep-
tion by his son, El Afdhal. Saladin was nearly fifty-
CHARACTER OF SALADIN. 465
seven years old when he died ; his father, Aiyub, was
the son of a certain Kurd, a native of Davin, named
Shad, and a retainer of 'Emad-ed-din Zanghi, father of
the celebrated Sultan Nur-ed-din, of Damascus. From
him the dynasty was called the Kurdish or Aiyubite
dynasty. At the outset of his career Saladin delighted
to emulate his great namesake, Yusuf es Sadik, the
Joseph of Scripture story ; in pursuance of this idea he
sent for his father to Egypt, immediately upon his ac-
cession to power, and offered to give up all authority
into his hands. This Aiyub declined, and contented
himself with the honourable and lucrative post of Con-
troller of the Treasury, with which his son entrusted
him. The father was killed by a fall from his horse
while his son was absent upon one of his expeditions
against the Christians at Kerak. No better proof can
be given of the respect and esteem which Saladin's
many virtues naturally commanded than the terms
upon which he lived with his brother and other rela-
tives. In spite of the too frequent application of the
proverb which says that ' the Turk can bear no brother
near the throne,' we do not hear of a single instance
of jealousy or insubordination being exhibited against
his authority by any member of his house or court,
while his subjects absolutely idolized him. Saladin
knew how to win the affection of his troops while he
made his authority felt, and his example restrained in
them that license which war too often engenders.
Courteous alike to friend and foe, faithful to his
plighted word, noble in reverses and moderate in
success, the Paynim Saladin stands forth in history
as fair a model of a true knight sans peur et sans reprochc
as any which the annals of Christian chivalry can
boast.
30
CHAPTER XVII.
THE MOHAMMEDAN PILGRIMS.
' Proclaim unto the people a solemn pilgrimage ; let them come
unto thee on foot, and on every lean camel, arriving from every
distant road ; that they be witnesses of the advantages which accrue
from visiting this holy place.' — CoSdn, cap. xxii. vv. 28, 29.
There are two kinds of pilgrimages in Islam, the
Hajj and the Ziydreh. The first is the greater pilgrim-
age to the shrine of Mecca, and this it is absolutely in-
cumbent upon every Muslim to perform once at least
in his life. As the injunction is, however, judiciously
qualified by the stipulation that the true believer shall
have both the will and the power to comply with it, a
great many avoid the tedious and difficult journey.
The second, or Ziydreh, consists in ' visiting ' the tombs
of saints, or other hallowed spots, and is an easier and
more economical means of grace, as the pilgrim can
choose his shrine for himself. Next to that of Mecca and
Medina, the pilgrimage to Jerusalem is most esteemed
by Mohammedan devotees ; and, as we have already
seen, political exigencies have, on more occasions than
one, caused it to be substituted for the more orthodox
and genuine Hajj. While all Muslims are enjoined to
visit Mecca, they are recommended to go to Jerusalem.
Plenary indulgence and future rewards are promised to
those who visit the Holy City, and the effect of all
prayers, and the reward or punishment of good or evil
TRADITIONAL SITES. 467
works, are doubled therein. Such as are unable to ac-
complish the journey may send oil to furnish a lamp,
and as long as it burns the angels in the place will pray
for the sender. As for those who build, repair, or
endow any portion of the Mosque, they will enjoy pro-
longed life and increased wealth on earth, as well as a
reward in heaven. The Roman Church is not singular
in its successful dealings with rich and moribund
sinners.
The pilgrim, in entering the Haram, puts his right
foot forward, and says, ' O Lord, pardon my sins, and
open to me the doors of Thy mercy.' As he goes out
he repeats the customary benediction upon Mohammed,
and exclaims, ' O Lord, pardon my sins, and open to
me the doors of Thy grace.' In entering the Cubbet
es Sakhrah he should be careful to keep the Holy
Rock upon his right hand, so that in walking round it
he may exactly reverse the proceeding in the case of
the Tawwaf, or circuit of the Ka'abeh at Mecca. He
should then enter the cave which is beneath the
Sakhrah with humility of deportment, and should first
utter the formula called 'the Prayer of Solomon,' viz.,
' O God, pardon the sinners who come here, and relieve
the injured.' After this, he may pray for whatsoever
he pleases, with the assurance that his request will be
granted.
As he is conducted about the Haram es Sherif the
various sacred spots are pointed out to him, and when
he has performed the requisite number of prostrations,
and repeated the appropriate prayer dictated by his
guide, the story or tradition of each is solemnly related
to him. Thus, on approaching the ' Holy Rock ' he is
told that it is one of the rocks of Paradise ; that it
stands on a palm-tree, beneath which flows one of the
30—2
468 JERUSALEM.
rivers of Paradise. Beneath the shade of this tree
Asia, the wife of Pharaoh, who is said to have been
the most beautiful woman in the world, and Miriam,
the sister of Moses, shall stand on the Day of Resur-
rection, to give drink to the true believers.
This Sakhrah is the centre of the world, and on the
Day of Resurrection the angel Israfil will stand upon
it to blow the last trumpet. It is also eighteen miles
nearer heaven than any other place in the world ; and
beneath it is the source of every drop of sweet water
that flows on the face of the earth. It is supposed to
be suspended miraculously between heaven and earth.
The effect upon the spectators was, however, so startling
that it was found necessary to place a building round
it, and conceal the marvel.
The Cadam es Sherif, or ' Footstep of the Prophet,'
is on a detached piece of a marble column, on the
south-west side of the Sakhrah. It is reported to have
been made by Mohammed, in mounting the beast
Borak, preparatory to his ascent into heaven on the
night of the 'M'iraj.'
Before leaving the Cubbet es Sakhrah, the pilgrim is
taken to pray upon a dark-coloured marble pavement
just inside the gate of the Cubbet es Sakhrah, called
Bab el Jannah ; some say that this is the spot upon
which the prophet Elias prayed, others that it covers
the tomb of King Solomon. All agree that it is a
stone which originally formed part of the pavement of
Paradise.
A descent into the Magharah or cave beneath the
Sakhrah — a reverential salutation of the ' tongue of
the rock,' a broken column slanting against the roof of
the cave — a prayer before the marks of the Angel
Gabriel's fingers — and, if he be a Shi'ah, a fervent pros-
TRADITIONAL SITES. 469
tration before a piece of iron bar which does duty as
the sword of 'Ali ibn Abi Talib, ' the Lion of God.'
These, with a few others of less interest, complete the
objects of special devotion in the Cubbet es Sakhrah
itself.
On issuing forth into the open court more wonders
meet his eye. First, there is the beautiful Cubbet es
Silsileh,* or Dome of the Chain ; it derives its name
from a tradition that in King Solomon's time a mira-
culous chain was suspended between heaven and earth
over this particular spot. It was possessed of such
peculiar virtue that whenever two litigants were unable
to decide their quarrel they had but to proceed together
to this place, and endeavour each to seize the chain,
which would advance to meet the grasp of him who
was in the right, and would elude all efforts of the
other to catch it. One day two Jews appealed to the
ordeal ; one accused the other of having appropriated
some money which he had confided to his keeping, and,
swearing that he had not received it back, laid hold of
the chain. The fraudulent debtor, who had artfully
concealed the money in the interior of a hollow staff
upon which he was leaning, handed it to the claimant,
and swore that he had given back the money. He
also was enabled to seize the chain, and the bystanders
were hopelessly perplexed as to the real state of the
case. From that moment the chain disappeared,
feeling doubtless that it had no chance of supporting
its character for legal acumen in the midst of a city
full of Jews.
The place, however, still retains some of its judicial
functions, and, if we are to credit Arab historians,
perjury is an exceedingly dangerous weapon in the
* Also called Mahkamet Da'ud, or the Tribunal of David.
47o JERUSALEM.
neighbourhood of the Sakhrah. It is related that the
Caliph 'Omar ibn 'Abd el 'Aziz ordered the stewards of
his predecessor, Suleiman, to give an account of their
stewardship upon oath before the Sakhrah. One man
alone refused to swear, and paid a thousand dinars
rather than do so ; in a year's time he was the only
survivor of them all. The Constantinople cabinet
might take a hint from this.
On the right hand of the Sakhrah, in the western
part of the court, is a small dome called the Cubbet el
M'iraj, or ' Dome of the Ascent,' which marks the
spot from which Mohammed is supposed to have
started upon his ' heavenly journey.' It is, of course,
one of the principal objects of the Muslim pilgrims'
devotion. The present dome was erected in the year
597, on the site of an older one which had fallen into
ruins, by a certain governor of Jerusalem named Ez
Zanjeli.
The Macam en Nebi, or ' Prophet's Standpoint,' is
celebrated from its connection with the same event. It
is now occupied by an elegant pulpit of white sculp-
tured marble.
At the end of the Haram Area, on the eastern side, is
a spot known as Sukel Ma'rifah (Market of Knowledge),
behind the praying-place of David. The tradition
attaching to this spot is, that when any of the ancient
Jewish occupants of the city had committed any sin,
he wrote up over the door of his own house a notice of
the fact, and came to the Market of Knowledge to pray
for forgiveness. If he obtained his request, he found
the written confession obliterated from his door, but if
the writing still remained the poor Jew was rigorously
cut off from all communication with his kind until the
miraculous signature of pardon was accorded him. A
TRADITIONAL SITES. 471
little lower down on the same side is a small apartment
containing an ancient marble niche, resembling in shape
the ordinary Mohammedan mihvdb ; this is usually
known as "Mehd 'Eisa or ' Jesus' Cradle.' although some
of the Muslim doctors, with greater regard for the
antiquarian unities, call it * Mary's Prayer-niche.' The
pilgrim enters the place with reverence, and repeats the
Silrat Miry am, a chapter of the Coran which gives the
Mohammedan account of the birth and ministry of our
Lord.
By the Jami' en Nisa, or ' Woman's Mosque,' form-
ing part of the Jami' el Aksa, is a well, on the left of
the great entrance, called Bir el Warakah, or ' Well of
the Leaf.' The story goes that during the caliphate of
'Omar a man of the Beni Temim, named Sherik ibn
Haiyan, dropped his bucket into this well, and climbing
down to fetch it up, found a door, into which he entered.
Great was his surprise at seeing a beautiful garden, and
having walked about in it for some time, he plucked a
leaf and returned to tell his companions of his strange
adventure. As the leaf never withered, and the door
could never again be found, no doubt was entertained
but that this was an entrance into Paradise itself, and
as such the well is now pointed out to the pilgrim.
The bridge of Es Sirat, that will be extended on the
Day of Judgment between heaven and hell, is to start
from Jerusalem, and the pilgrim is shown a column,
built horizontally into the wall, which is to form its
first pier.
The Muslim guide will wax eloquent upon this, his
favourite subject, the connection between the Day of
Judgment and the Masjid el Aksa ; and as the pilgrim
stands upon the eastern wall he will hear a circum-
stantial account of the troubles and the signal deliverance
472 JERUSALEM.
which shall come upon the true believers in the latter
day.
Dajjal, or Antichrist (he learns), will not be allowed
to enter Jerusalem, but will stop on the eastern bank of
the Jordan while the faithful remain on the western
side. Then Christ, who will reappear to save the true
believers, will take up three of the stones of Jerusalem,
and will say as he takes up the first, * In the name of
the God of Abraham ;' with the second, * In the name
of the God of Isaac ;' and with the third, ' In the
name of the God of Jacob.' He will then go out at the
head of the Muslims, Dajjal will flee before him, and be
slain by the three stones. The victors will then pro-
ceed to a general massacre of the Jews in and around
the Holy City, and every tree and every stone shall
cry out and say, ' I have a Jew beneath me ; slay him.'
Having done this the Messiah will break the crosses
and kill the pigs, after which the Millennium will set
in.
The last sign which is to precede the day of resur-
rection is that the Ka'abeh of Mecca shall be led as a
bride to the Sakhrah of Jerusalem. When the latter
sees it, it will cry out, ' Welcome, thou Pilgrim to whom
Pilgrimages are made.' No one dies until he has
heard the sound of the Muezzin in Jerusalem calling to
prayer.
The pilgrims to the Haram es Sherif differ but little
from those of the Holy Sepulchre. Both endure great
hardships, exhibit intense devotion and ostentatious
humility ; and both believe that by scrupulous practice
of the appointed rites and observances they are
advancing a claim upon the favour of Heaven which
cannot be repudiated. Both delight in assuring them-
selves and others that it is love for the stones on which
MOTIVES OF PILGRIMS. 473
the saints have trodden which brings them there, but if
their satisfaction could be analyzed it would be found
to consist in a sense of religious security, which a
learned Muslim doctor has quaintly expressed : ' The
dwellers in Jerusalem are the neighbours of God ; and
God has no right to torment His neighbours.'
As with us in Europe, the only notices of Jerusalem
during the Middle Ages are derived from the Crusaders
and early pilgrims, so the various accounts of the Holy
City, with the quaint stories and traditions attaching to
it, with which Mohammed's writings teem, are all due
to the early warriors and pilgrims of Islam.
Of these, and their name is legion, I will select a few
of the most eminent in order that the reader may form
some idea of the sources from which the Arab historians
have drawn their information.
The Mohammedan pilgrims to Jerusalem range them-
selves naturally into two great classes or periods,
namely, those who ' came over with the conqueror '
'Omar, or who visited the city between the date of his
conquest and the second Christian kingdom, and those
who were posterior to Saladin. Of all the Moham-
medan pilgrims to Jerusalem, the first and the most
distinguished was Abu 'Obeidah ibn el Jerrah, to whom,
as has already been shown, the conquest of Jerusalem
was due.
He died in the great plague at 'Amwas (Emmaus),
A.D. 639, in the fifty-eighth year of his age, and was
buried in the village of Athma, at the foot of Jebel
'Ajlun, between Fukaris and El ''Adiliyeh, where his
tomb is still pointed out. In this plague no less than
twenty-five thousand of the Muslim soldiery perished.
Belial ibn Rubah, Mohammed's own ' Muezzin,'
accompanied 'Omar to Jerusalem. He was so devoutly
474 JERUSALEM.
attached to the person of the Prophet that he refused
to exercise his office after Mohammed's decease, except
on the occasion of the conquest of the Holy City, when
he was prevailed upon by the caliph once more to
call the people to prayers in honour of so great an
occasion.
Khalid ibn el Walid, surnamed the ' Drawn Sword of
God,' was also present with the victorious army of
'Omar ; he died in the year 641 a.d., and was buried,
some say, at Emessa, and others, at Medinah.
'Abudat ibn es Samit, the first Cadhi of Jerusalem,
arrived with 'Omar ; he was buried in the Holy City,
but his tomb disappeared during the Christian occu-
pation.
Another interesting member of the first pilgrim band
was Selman el Farsi, one of the early companions of
Mohammed. Although he does not play a very con-
spicuous part in Mohammedan history, his name has
acquired a strange celebrity in connection with the
mysterious sect of the Nuseiriyeh in Syria. The tenets
of this people are so extraordinary and so little known
that I cannot refrain from giving a slight account of
them here.
The Nuseiriyeh worship a mystic triad, consisting of
and represented by 'Ali, the son-in-law and successor of
Mohammed, Mohammed himself, and Selman el Farsi.
These are alluded to as 'Ams, a mystical word, composed
of the three initial letters of their names ; 'Ali being,
moreover, called the Mana, or 'meaning,' i.e., the
object implied in all their teaching, Mohammed, the
chamberlain, and Selman el Farsi, the door. To under-
stand this we must remember that Eastern sovereigns
are never approached except through the mediation of
their chamberlains ; and the three offices will therefore
THE NUSEIRIYEH. 475
correspond with those of the Holy Trinity, the King
of Kings, the Mediator, and the Door of Grace. From
this triad proceed five other persons, called aitdm, or
monads, whose function is that of creation and order.
Their names are those of persons who played a con-
spicuous part in the early history of Islam ; but they
are evidently identical with the five planets known to
the ancients, and their functions correspond exactly
to those of the heathen deities whose names the planets
bear.
The Nuseiriyeh hold the doctrine of a Fall, believing
that they originally existed as shining lights and brilliant
stars, and that they were degraded from that high estate
for refusing to recognise the omnipotence of 'Ali.
The mystic Trinity, 'Ams, is supposed to have
appeared seven times upon the earth, once in each of
the seven cycles into which the history of the world is
divided. Each of these manifestations was in the
persons of certain historical characters, and each
avatar was accompanied by a similar incarnation of
the antagonistic or evil principle.
The devil of the Nuseiriyeh is always represented as
a triune being, and, carrying out the principle of
affiliating their religious system upon the history of
Mohammedanism, they have made the opponents of
'Ali represent the personification of evil, as he himself
and his immediate followers are the personification of
good. Thus Abu Bekr, 'Omar, and 'Othman are con-
sidered by the Nuseiriyeh as the conjunct incarnation
of Satan.
They believe in the transmigration of souls, and that
after death those of Mohammedans will enter into the
bodies of asses, Christians into pigs, and Jews into
apes. As for their own sect, the wicked will become
476 JERUSALEM.
cattle, and serve for food ; the initiated who have given
way to religious doubts will be changed into apes ; and
those who are neither good nor bad will again become
men, but will be born into a strange sect and people.
The religion professed by the great mass of the
Nuseiriyeh is, indeed, a mere melange of doctrines,
dogmas, and superstitions, borrowed from the many
creeds which have at various times been dominant in
the country; and yet this incongruous jumble serves
as a cloak for a much more interesting creed, namely,
the ancient Sabsean faith.
The Nuseiriyeh conceal their religion from the outer
world with the greatest care, and do not even initiate
their own sons into its mysteries until they have
arrived at years of discretion ; the women are never
initiated at all.
In the first degree or stage of initiation, they are
made acquainted with the doctrines of which I have
given .a sketch; in the second, they are told that by 'Ams
the Christian Trinity is intended ; and in the last, or
perfect degree, they are taught that this Trinity, the
real object of their worship, is composed of Light, or
the Sky, the Sun, and the Moon, the first being il-
limitable and infinite, the second proceeding from the
first, and the last proceeding from the other two.
The five monads are, in this stage, absolutely declared
to be identical with the five planets.
In their religious ceremonies they make use of hymns,
libations of wine, and sacrifices ; to describe them in
detail would be out of place in this work; I will,
therefore, only mention one, which has an exceptional
interest.
Amongst the ceremonies observed at their great feast
is one called the ' Consecration of the Fragrant Herb.'
THE NUSEIRIYEH. 477
The officiating priest takes his seat in the midst of the
assembly, and a white cloth, containing a kind of spice
called mahlab, camphor, and some sprigs of olive or
fragrant herb, is then placed before him. Two at-
tendants then bring in a vessel filled with wine, and
the master of the house in which the ceremony takes
place, after appointing a third person to minister to
them, kisses their hands all round, and humbly requests
permission to provide the materials necessary for the
feast. The high priest then, having prostrated himself
upon the ground, and uttered a short invocation to
certain mystic personages, distributes the sprigs of
olive amongst the congregation, who rub them in their
hands, and place them solemnly to their nose to inhale
their fragrance.
This ceremony would alone furnish evidence of the
antiquity of the Nuseiriyeh rites, for it is unquestionably
the same as that alluded to by Ezekiel (viii. 17), when
condemning the idolatrous practices of the Jews. In
that passage the prophet (after mentioning ' women
weeping for Tammuz,' the Syrian Adonis, ' twenty-five
men with their backs toward the temple of the Lord,
and their faces to the east, worshipping the sun in the
east,' and thus showing beyond question that the par-
ticular form of idolatry which he is condemning is the
sun-worship of Syria) concludes with the following
words : ' Is it a light thing which they commit here ?
For they have filled the land with violence, and have
returned to provoke Me to anger : and, lo, they put the
branch to their nose.''
The more sober Muslim historians tell us that Sel-
man el Farsi died at the age of ninety-eight or ninety-
nine years ; but some do not scruple to assert that he
was over six hundred years old, and had personally
478 JERUSALEM.
witnessed the ministry of Christ. Nothing certain
seems to be known of him, except that he died in the
year a.d. 656, and no reason appears for his deification
by the Nuseiriyeh except the fact that he was a Persian,
and a friend of 'AH ibn Abi Talib. Abu Dhurra is
another of the companions of Mohammed, deified by
the Nuseiriyeh (in whose pantheon he appears as the
representative of the planet Jupiter), and is also said
to have entered Jerusalem with the army of 'Omar.
He is buried at Medinah.
Shedddd ibn Aus. It is related that Mohammed,
some little time before his death, predicted that Jeru-
salem would be conquered, and that Sheddad, and his
sons after him, would become Imams (or high priests)
there, which prediction came to pass. Sheddad died
in Jerusalem, a.d. 678, at the age of seventy-five, and
was buried in the cemetery, near the Bab er Rahman,
close under the walls of the Haram es Sherif, where his
tomb is still honoured by the faithful.
The Caliph Mo'awiyeh also visited Jerusalem before
his accession to the throne, and it was in that city that
the celebrated compact was made between him and
''Amir ibn el ''As to revenge the murder of 'Othman.
He died in Damascus, on the 1st of May, a.d. 680.
One of the most distinguished of Mohammedan pil-
grims to Jerusalem was Ka'ab el Ahbar ibn Mani', the
Himyarite, familiarly called Abu Is'hak. He was by
birth a Jew, but had embraced the Muslim religion
during the caliphate of Abu Bekr, in consequence, as
he alleged, of his finding in the Book of the Law a
prophecy relating to Mohammed. He is chiefly re-
membered as having pointed out to 'Omar, whom he
accompanied to Jerusalem, the real position of the
Sakhrah. The following tradition is also ascribed to
FEMALE PILGRIMS. 479
him : that 'Jerusalem once complained to the Almighty
that she had been so frequently destroyed ; to which
God answered, " Be comforted, for I will fill thee,
instead, with worshippers, who shall flock to thee as
the vultures to their nests, and shall yearn for thee as
the doves for their eggs." ' He died at Hums in a.d.
652.
Sellam ibn Caisar was one of the companions of
Mohammed, and acted as governor of Jerusalem under
the Caliph Mo'awiyeh.
The position of women amongst the first professors
of Islam appears to have been much more honourable
than amongst their later successors, and the early
annals of the creed contain many notices of gifted and
pious women who appeared to have exercised no small
influence over the minds of their contemporaries. One
of these distinguished females was Umm el Kheir, a
freed-woman of the noble family of 'Agyl, and a native
of Basora. She visited Jerusalem, where she died
about the year 752. Her tomb is still to be seen on the
Mount of Olives, in a retired corner south of the
Chapel of the Ascension ; and is much frequented by
pilgrims. It is related that Umm el Kheir, one day,
in the course of her devotions, cried out, ' O God,
wilt Thou consume with fire a heart that loves Thee
so ?' When a mysterious voice replied to her, ' Nay,
we act not thus ; entertain not such evil suspicions
of us.' The precept, ' Conceal your virtues as you
would your vices,' is also attributed to the same saint.
Safiyah bint Hai, known as ' The Mother of the Faith-
ful,' was amongst the earliest pilgrims to Jerusalem,
having visited it with the army of 'Omar. To her is
attributed the tradition that the division of the wicked
from the good on the Day of Judgment will take place
480 JERUSALEM.
from the top of the Mount of Olives. She died about
the year 670.
An anecdote related of the celebrated Sufyan eth
Thori, affords a good example of the devotion and
fervour of these early Mohammedan pilgrims. He is
said to have repeated the whole of the Coran at one
sitting in the Cubbet es Sakhrah, and on one occasion,
when he had prayed until he was completely exhausted,
he bought a single plantain and ate it in the shade of
the mosque, apologizing for even this indulgence by the
remark, ' The ass can do more work when he has got
his fodder.' He died at Bosrah a.d. yyy.
Al Imam es Shafii', one of the most learned of the
Mohammedan doctors, and the founder of one of the
chief sects into which the religion is divided. He was
born in 767 a.d., the same year in which Abu Hanifeh,
the founder of the Hanefite sect, died. His works,
which are very voluminous, and considered by his fol-
lowers as next in authority to the Coran itself, are said
to have been all written within the space of four years.
The following fatwa, or legal decision, attributed to
him during his stay at Jerusalem, not only evinces the
great erudition and readiness for which he was so
celebrated, but affords an amusing specimen of the
trifling minutiae upon which the Mohammedan doctors
often consent to dispute. Having established himself
in the Haram es Sherif, he professed himself ready to
answer any question that might be put to him, con-
cerning either the Coran or the Sunneh, that is, the
written or oral law. ' What should you say/ said a
person present, ' respecting the legality of killing a
wasp, when one is engaged in the rites of the
pilgrimage?' Without a moment's hesitation the
Imam replied, ' The Coran itself tells us that we are to
EA RL Y PIL GRIMS. 4 8 1
accept whatsoever the prophet has granted us, and to
abstain from what he has forbidden us. (Coran, lix.
7.) Now, Ibn 'Aiyinah had it from 'Abd el Melik ibn
Amir, who had it from Huzaifah, that the prophet said,
" Be guided in all things by my immediate successors,
Abu Bekr and 'Omar." But Ibn 'Aiyinah further
relates that Mas'ud told him that Cais ibn Musallim
was informed by Tarik ibn Shihab, that 'Omar bade
the pilgrim slay the wasp.' Es Snafu died at Carafah
es Sughra, in Egypt, on the 20th December, a.d. 819.
Mohammed ibn Karram, the founder of the Karra-
miyeh sect, resided at Jerusalem for more than twenty
years, and died there in the year 869 A.D. His
doctrines are considered by the majority of Mussul-
mans as heterodox and pernicious. He was said to
have been buried by the Jericho gate, near the tombs
of the prophets, but neither the gate nor the sheikh's
tomb exist at the present day.
Abu '1 Faraj al Mucaddasi, Imam of the Hambileh
sect, and the founder of that of Imam Ahmed. He is
the author of very esteemed and voluminous works
upon theology and jurisprudence. He died the 9th of
January, 1094, and was buried at Damascus, in the
cemetery near the Bab es Saghir, where his tomb is
still frequented by the faithful.
Sheikh Abu '1 Fath Nasr, a celebrated recluse and
theologian, fixed his residence at Jerusalem, living the
life of an ascetic, in the building to the east of the
Bab en Rahmah, which was called after him En
Nasiriyeh. He was a friend of the eminent philosopher
El Ghazali, whom he met in Damascus. He died in
the last-named city in the year 1097 a.d.
Abu '1 Ma'ali el Masharraf ibn el Marjan Ibrahim el
Mucaddeu. He is the author of a celebrated treatise
3i
482 JERUSALEM.
upon the history and antiquities of Jerusalem, entitled
Fadhd'il Bait el Mucaddas w es Sakhrah, ' The Virtues of
Jerusalem and of the Rock.' Little or nothing is
known of him beyond this composition ; the date of
his decease is also uncertain, but it is ascertained that
he was contemporary with Sheikh Abu '1 Casim, who
was born about 1040 a.d.
This Sheikh Abu '1 Casim er Rumaili was a cele-
brated doctor of the Shafiite sect. He established
himself at Jerusalem, and was so renowned for his
great knowledge of religious jurisprudence, that difficult
points of law from all quarters of the Muslim world
were sent to him for his opinion, and his decision was
always considered final. He is also the author of an
excellent treatise on the history of Jerusalem. On the
capture of the city by the Crusaders, in the year 1099,
he was taken prisoner, and his ransom fixed at one thou-
sand dinars. The Muslims did not, however, appear to
set a very high value upon their learned doctor, for the
sum demanded for his release was never raised ; and
the reverend gentleman was stoned to death by the
Franks at the gate of Antioch. Some authorities say
that he was put to death in Jerusalem.
Abu '1 Casim er Razi was by birth a Persian, and
studied jurisprudence at Ispahan, from which place he
removed to Baghdad, and ultimately proceeded to
Jerusalem, where he adopted the life of a religious
recluse. He was slain by the Crusaders on their entry
into Jerusalem in July, 1099.
The renowned philosopher El Ghazali himself was
also a pilgrim to Jerusalem, in which city he composed
the magnificent work for which he is chiefly celebrated,
namely, the Muhyi 7 'ulutn, ' The Resuscitation of
Science.' He occupied the same apartments in which
EARLY PILGRIMS. 483
Sheikh Nasir had formerly resided, and the name was
changed in consequence from that of En Nasiriyeh to
El Ghajaliyeh. The building, however, has long since
disappeared. El Ghazali died at Tus, his native town,
in the year 1112.
Dhia-ed-din 'Eisa studied Mohammedan literature
and jurisprudence in Aleppo, and was attached to the
court of Esed-ed-din Shirkoh Saladin's uncle, with
whom he visited Egypt. On the death of the former,
it was principally owing to the exertions made by him,
and Baha-ed-din Caracosh, that Saladin was appointed
to succeed him as Grand Vizier of Egypt. In the year
753, Dhia-ed-din accompanied Saladin upon an ex-
pedition against the Franks, in the course of which
he was taken prisoner, though subsequently ransomed
for sixty thousand dinars. He was a great favourite
with Saladin, and, as has been before mentioned,
preached the first sermon in the Masjid el Aksa after
the conquest of the Holy City. He was of noble birth
and great learning, and while accompanying Saladin in
his * Holy War ' he combined the ecclesiastical with
the military character, wearing the armour and uniform
of -a soldier, and the turban of a priest. He died
during the siege of Acre, in the year 583, and his
remains were sent to Jerusalem, and buried in the
cemetery of Mamilla.
Sheikh Shehab-ed-din el Cudsi was also a Khatib, or
preacher, in Jerusalem ; he was present with Saladin at
the taking of the city, and received the sobriquet of
Abu Tor, 'The Father of the Bull,' because he was in
the habit of riding upon one of those animals, and
fighting from its back. Saladin bestowed upon him a
small village, near the Jaffa gate, in which was the
monastery of St. Mark, where he lived and died. Both
31—2
484 JERUSALEM.
the monastery and the hill upon which it stands are
now called after him, Abu Tor. It is related of him,
that when he wanted any provisions he used to write an
order and tie it on the neck of his favourite bull, which
would go straight to the bazaars and bring back the
articles required.
After the death of Saladin the list of eminent Muslims
whose names are connected with the history of Jerusa-
lem becomes too formidable in its dimensions to admit
of more than a brief notice of a few of the most impor-
tant. I will commence with the kings and princes.
El Melik el Moa'zzem was a son of El "Adil, Saladin's
brother, and succeeded his father in the government
of Syria, in August, 1218 a.d. He was a Hanefite
(departing in this from the traditions of his house,
which had all along professed the doctrines of the Es
ShafiV), and founded a college for the sect in the Masjid
el Aksa. He was a great patron of Arabic philosophy,
and erected the building called the ' Dome of the
Grammarians,' on the south side of the court of the
Sakhrah ; to him is also due the construction of the
greater number of carved wooden doors which adorn
the Haram building, and which still bear his natne
We have already alluded in a former chapter to the opera
tions of this prince, and his brother, El Melik el Kamil
against the Franks, as well as to the invasion of the Kha
rezmians, and other troubles which overtook Jerusalem
After this we hear no more of victories or crusades
and the connection of the succeeding princes with the
history of Jerusalem is chiefly derived from their bene-
factions to the Haram es Sherif. I will mention only a
few of these, whose munificence is recorded on the
numerous tablets which adorn the buildings in the
sacred area.
ROYAL BENEFACTORS. 485
El Melik ed Dhaher Beybers, Sultan of Egypt, visited
Jerusalem in 1269, on his return from a pilgrimage to
Mecca. Passing by the ' Red Hill,' between Jericho
and Jerusalem, which is, according to the Muslims, the
traditional site of Moses' grave, he erected the building
to which devotees yearly flock in crowds, to the present
day. He repaired the Mosque of El Aksa, and the
Cubbet es Silsilah, and completely renovated the
interior of the Cubbet es Sakhrah, which was in a
very dilapidated condition. He died at Damascus in
June, 1277.
Es Sultan Calaun, originally a Memluk, purchased
for one thousand dinars, ascended the throne of Egypt
in 1279. He repaired the roof of the Jami' el Aksa,
and erected a cloister called El Mansuri, near the Bab
en Nazir.
El Melik el "Adil Ketbegha began to reign in 694,
and repaired the eastern wall of the Haram by the
Golden Gate. Es Sultan Lajein, who succeeded him,
also executed many repairs in the mosque. Sultan
Mohammed, son of Calaon, who had succeeded his
father, but been twice compelled to abdicate, at last
succeeded in establishing himself on the throne of
Egypt in a.d. 1310. He repaired the south wall of the
Haram, coated the inside of the mosque with marble,
and regilded the domes of El Aska and the Cubbet es
Sakhrah. So beautifully was this gilding executed, that
Mejir-ed-din, writing one hundred and eighty years
afterwards, declares that it looked as though it had
been just laid on. Even now, in the records of
Saladin's restoration which exist upon the dome of the
Cubbet es Sakhrah, and over the Mihrab of the Aksa,
the gold remains untarnished.
Mohammed ibn Calaoon also repaired the arches
486 JERUSALEM.
over the steps leading up on the north side to the
platform on which the Dome of the Rock stands, and
executed many useful works in and around Jerusalem ;
he died in a.d. 1340.
Es Sultan el Melek el Ashraf Shaban, grandson of
the preceding, repaired the Bal el Esbat, put new
wooden doors in the Jami' el Aksa, and repaired the
arches over the steps on the west side of the Sakhrah
platform, by the Bab en Nazir. Sultan Abu Sa'id
Barkuk was the first of the Circassian dynasty in
Egypt ; he ascended the throne in 1382. To him is
due a portion of the woodwork around the Sakhrah.
In 1393, his lieutenant, El Yaghmuri, came to Jeru-
salem, and set right the numerous abuses which had
crept into the administration of the city in the time of
his predecessor. These reforms he proclaimed by
causing an account of them to be engraved upon a
marble tablet, and hung up in the Haram es Sherif.
The governors of Jerusalem would seem to have been
rather prone to relapses in this respect, for we find El
Yaghmuri's example followed by many of the succeed-
ing viceroys.
Sultan en Nasir Farj succeeded to the throne of
Egypt in the year 1399, when only twelve years old.
He separated the government of Jerusalem and Hebron
from that of Mecca and Medina, which had hitherto
been exercised by one official. During his reign oc-
curred the incursions of the Tartars, under Timour of
Tamerlane,.
Sultan el Melik el Ashraf Barseba'/, a freedman of
Barkuk's, becoming sultan in 1422, followed his former
master's example, and expended some money upon
the repair of the mosque at Jerusalem. He presented
a beautiful copy of the Coran to the mosque of El
ROYAL BENEFACTORS. 487
Aksa, and appointed and endowed a reader and atten-
dant to look after it.
In the year 1447, during the reign of El Melik ed
Dhaher Chakmak, a portion of the roof of the Cubbet
es Sakhrah was destroyed by fire. Some say the
accident was caused by lightning, others, by the care-
lessness of some young nobleman, who clambered on
the roof in pursuit of pigeons, and set fire to the
woodwork with a lighted candle which one of them
held in his hands. The sultan repaired the damage,
and also presented to the Sakhrah a large and mag-
nificent copy of the Coran. This prince was a great
champion of the faith, and sent his agent, Sheikh
Mohammed el Mushmer to Jerusalem for the purpose
of destroying all the newly erected Christian buildings
in the place, and of clearing out the monasteries and
convents. Some new wooden balustrading which was
found in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre was carried
off in triumph to the Mosque of El Aksa ; and the
monastery, or Tomb of David, was cleared of its
monkish occupants and appropriated by the Moham-
medans, while even the bones in the adjoining cemetery
were dug up and removed.
The so-called Tomb of David was originally a con-
vent of Franciscan monks, who believed it to be the
site of the Ccenaculum, and their traditions mention
nothing of an underground cavern such as is now said
by the Mohammedans to exist. The tradition which
makes it the tomb of David is purely Muslim in its
origin, and does not date back earlier than the time of
El Melik ed Dhaher Chakmak. Oral tradition in
Jerusalem says that a beggar came one day to the door
of the monastery asking for relief, and in revenge for
being refused went about declaring that it was the
488 JERUSALEM.
tomb of David, in order to incite the Muslim fanatics
to seize upon and confiscate the spot. His plan, as we
have just seen, succeeded.
El Ashraf also gave a great Coran to the Jami' el
Aksa, which was placed near the Mosque of 'Omar, by
the window which overlooks Siloam. Sultan el Ashraf
Catibai', in the year 1472, widened and improved the
steps leading up to the platform of the Sakhrah, and
furnished them with arches like those on the other
sides. He also re-covered the roof of El Aksa with
lead. A notice of the events which happened in Jeru-
salem during the reign of this sovereign will be found
in the account of Mejid-ed-din (p. 490).
The names of a great number of learned men are
mentioned in the Mohammedan histories of Jerusalem,
either as pilgrims or as preachers, cadhis or principals
of colleges. Of these the majority would be unknown
to, or possess but little interest for, the European
reader ; I will therefore content myself with mention-
ing a few who have written upon or otherwise distin-
guished themselves in connection with the Holy City.
Sheikh el Islam Burhan-ed-din, chief Cadhi of Jeru-
salem, died in 1388. The marble pulpit in the Cubbet
es Sakhrah, from which the sermon is preached on
feast-days, was the gift of this divine. Es Saiyid
Bedr-ed-din Salem, a lineal descendant of 'AH ibn Abi
Talib, was also connected for some time with the
Haram at Jerusalem. He was esteemed a great saint,
and was visited as such by pious Muslims even during
his lifetime. Many miracles are recorded of him, and
it is said that the birds and wild beasts came to make
pilgrimages to his tomb and those of his sons — at
Sharafat in the Wady en Nusur, about three days'
journey from Jerusalem — and prostrate themselves
MUSLIM DOCTORS. 489
with their faces on the ground at the door of the small
building which covers the graves. They are still
objects of great veneration to Muslim pilgrims in
Palestine. Es Sheikh Abu '1 Hasan el Maghaferi ex-
ercised the office of Khatib, or preacher, in Jerusalem.
He studied the celebrated history of the city by Ibn
'Asaker, under the direction of its author, in a.d. 1200.
Shems-ed-din el 'Alimi accepted the office of chief
Cadhi of Jerusalem in 1438, towards the end of the
reign of Sultan Barsebai. An incident is related in
the notices of his life which throws some light upon the
condition of the Christians in the city. A church of
large dimensions, and furnished with a magnificent
dome, existed on the south side of the Holy Sepulchre
in close proximity to the Haram es Sherif. This was
a favourite place of worship with the Christian in-
habitants, and the chaunting of the priests could be
heard in the Cubbet es Sakhrah itself, to the great
scandal of the ' Faithful.' While they were concerting
measures for putting a stop to the services without in-
fringing the law, an earthquake happened, which threw
down the dome of the church, and completely dis-
mantled the building. The Christians applied to the
governor of the city and the Cadhi of the Hanefite sect
for permission to restore the building, and, by dint of
heavy bribes, obtained it. El 'Alimi, who was Cadhi
of the Hambelite sect, was furious at this, and declared
that as the church had been destroyed by the act of
God for the express convenience of the Muslim wor-
shippers in the Cubbet es Sakhrah, it was sheer blas-
phemy to allow it to be rebuilt. An indignant letter
written by him to Cairo brought a special commissioner
with orders from the Sultan el Ashraf Einal to stop the
building and pull down what had been already erected.
4QO JERUSALEM.
This was probably the commencement of the general
Crescentade against the churches and monasteries of
Jerusalem, which took place under the jurisdiction of
El 'Alimi, in the reign of Sultan Chakmak, to which I
have already alluded in my notice of that prince. The
Cadhi was also in the habit of seizing upon the children
of deceased Jews and Christians, who were tributaries
of the State, and of compelling them to be trained up in
the Mohammedan religion. The Shafiite Cadhi disputed
the legality of this, and the question was warmly discussed
by the Mohammedan doctors, both in Jerusalem and
Cairo. Although the decision was not favourable to his
view of the case, he continued to follow the same course
until he was removed from the office in 1468. Amongst
the Mohammedan viceroys and governors of Jerusalem
may be mentioned the following : El Emir 'Ezz-ed-dm
es Zanjeili, who repaired the Cubbet el Miraj in the
year 1200. El Emir Hisam-ed-din, who restored the
Cubbet en Nahwiweh in 1207. El Emir Zidugdi was
governor of Jerusalem during the reigns of the Sultans
Beibars and Cala'on. He built a cloister by the Bab en
Nazir and paved the court of the Sakhrah. El Emir
Nasir-ed-din made extensive restorations in the Haram
Area, and opened the two windows in the Aksa which
are on the right and left of the Mihrab, and coated the
interior of the mosque with marble in 1330. The well-
known author, Mejir-ed-din, resided for some time in
Jerusalem, and has given us the best history of the Holy
City extant in Arabic. The following is a brief extract
of his own very graphic account of the events which
happened there during the reign of the Sultan El Ashraf
Catibai', in whose service the writer was. As a picture
of the state of things in Jerusalem in the fifteenth
century it may not prove uninteresting to our readers.
CIVIL DISTURBANCES. 491
In the year 1468 a severe famine occurred in
Jerusalem and its neighbourhood in consequence of
the unusual drought of the preceding winter. The
people began to exhibit signs of dissatisfaction, and
matters were not improved by a quarrel which took
place between the Nazir el Haramain, or Superintendent
of the Two Sanctuaries (Hebron and Jerusalem), and
the Nai'b, or viceroy. These two officials came to an
open rupture, and as the Nazir and his men were
engaged in laying in water from the Birket es Sultan
to some buildings upon which they were employed, the
Naib, with a company of attendants, came suddenly
upon them, and a fierce fight took place. The city was
immediately divided into two factions, some taking the
part of the Nazir, and others of the Naib, and even the
presence of a special commissioner from Cairo failed
to quell the disturbance. The plague, with which
Syria had been for some time visited, next attacked
Jerusalem, and raged from the 17th of July, 1469, until
the middle of September.
The next year (1470) was more propitious, but the
great people of the city still seemed unable to agree.
On the 12th of February, Cadhi Sherif-ed-din came to
Jerusalem, and was visited, immediately on his arrival,
by Ghars-ed-din, chief Cadhi of the Shafiite sect. Now
Sheikh Shehab-ed-din el 'Amiri, principal of one of the
colleges attached to the Haram, also happened to drop
in, and, either through ignorance or inadvertence, took
a seat in the assembly above the Cadhi. The two
reverend gentlemen entered into a warm dispute, in
the course of which the Sheikh threatened to tear the
Cadhi's turban off his head. The Cadhi retorted that
the Sheikh ' did not know the meaning of a turban,'
implying that he did not know how to conduct himself
492 JERUSALEM.
as became his office. Both parties then left the
assembly, and, the matter being referred to arbitration,
certain learned gentlemen adjourned to the Cubbet es
Sakhrah to discuss it, accompanied by a crowd of
idlers. The people of Jerusalem, determined to defend
their fellow-citizen, attempted to decide the question
by pillaging the Cadhi's house, and maltreating his
wives. The day was a very rainy one, which circum-
stance increased the bad temper of the mob, and it was
at one time more than probable that the sanctuary
would become the scene of anarchy and bloodshed. In a
subsequent appeal, made to the sultan himself at Cairo,
the Cadhi got scant satisfaction, and was so laughed at
and ridiculed on his return to Jerusalem that he was
ultimately obliged to resign his office, and leave. The
atmosphere of Jerusalem appears to have a particularly
unfortunate effect upon the temper of theologians.
The winter of 1472-73 was exceedingly. severe, and the
rains so incessant that the foundations of the buildings
were, in many instances, undermined ; three hundred
and sixty houses are said to have fallen down from this
cause, but one woman, who was buried in the ruins of
her dwelling, was the only person killed.
About the end of the year 1475 the sultan him-
self, El Ashraf Catiba't, performed the pilgrimage to
Jerusalem on his return from Mecca. Immediately
upon his arrival in the city he held a court, on which
occasion the inhabitants crowded round him to present
petitions against the viceroy, whom they accused of all
manner of injustice and oppression. The chief Cadhi
was also included in the indictment, as having given
corrupt decisions in the interests of the governor. The
latter purchased immunity by paying off upon the spot
ail claims that were made against him, and was retained
A TTA CK BY BE DA WIN. 9 3
in his office by the sultan, who, however, intimated
that if a single complaint were again made, he would
have him cut in halves. The Cadhi narrowly escaped
corporal punishment, and was dismissed ignominiously
from his office, and compelled to leave the city.
In May, 1476, orders came from the sultan to arrest
all the Christians connected with the Churches of
the Holy Sepulchre, Sion and Bethlehem, in revenge
for the capture of four Muslims by the Franks at
Alexandria. The orders were executed, but we are
not told what became of the prisoners. Towards the
end of 1477 the plague, which had been raging for some
time in Syria, reached Jerusalem, and lasted for more
than six months, causing a terrible mortality.
In 1480 a great disturbance took place in Jerusalem
in consequence of the governor having imprisoned and
put to death some Bedawin of the Beni Zeid tribe.
A crowd of ferocious Arabs bore down upon Jerusalem,
determined to revenge the death of their comrades,
and the governor, who was riding outside the city at
the time of their arrival, narrowly escaped falling into
their hands. Setting spurs to his horse, he dashed
through the Bab el Esbat, rode across the courtyard
of the mosque, and escaped through the Bab el
Magharibeh. The Bedawin swarmed in after him with
drawn swords, utterly regardless of the sacred character
of the place. Finding that their victim had escaped,
they followed the method adopted on similar occasions
by European agitators, broke into the houses and shops
of the neighbourhood, and plundered all that they could
lay their hands on, and then broke open the jail, and
let loose the prisoners.
In 1481 a number of architects and workmen were
sent to Jerusalem by the sultan to repair the Haram,
494 JERUSALEM.
and to rebuild the various colleges which had fallen
into decay. In 1482 a messenger arrived, bearing the
sultan's order that the Christians were to be permitted
to take possession once more of the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre, and exhibit therein the customary
Easter pyrotechnic display. The order was at first
disputed by the Muslim officials, but as the com-
missioner threatened to indict them for contempt of
authority, they were obliged to give way.
In 1491, Jerusalem was again visited by the plague ;
at first from thirty to forty people died of it daily, but
in a little time the average rate of mortality was in-
creased to a hundred and thirty.
The winter of this year was very severe, and a snow-
storm occurred, which lasted several days, and lay
upon the ground to the depth of three feet, greatly in-
commoding and frightening the inhabitants. When it
began to melt, the foundations of many of the houses
gave way, and serious disasters were the result.
Mejir-ed-din : s history of this period is very diffuse,
and is chiefly devoted to an account of the various
Cadhis, and other religious or legal functionaries in
Jerusalem. But the ascendency of the Shafiite or
Hanefite doctrines, or the intense devotion of an old
gentleman who had learned a whole commentary upon
the Coran by heart, are not subjects of much general
interest ; we have, therefore, confined ourselves to
stating the few facts above detailed.
We ought, perhaps, to include in our list of Mo-
hammedan pilgrims those from whom all our informa-
tion is gleaned — Ibn 'Asaker, and the later Arabic
writers who have written on the subject ; their names,
however, and the names of their books, although of
high authority to the Oriental scholar, could have but
little weight with the English reader.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE CHRONICLE OF SIX HUNDRED YEARS.
' Oh ! yet we trust that somehow good
Will be the final goal of ill,
To pangs of nature, sins of will,
Defects of doubt, and taint of blood.'
In Memoria?n.
The Christian kingdom, reduced after Saladin's con-
quest to a strip of land along the coast, with a few
strong cities, depended no longer on the annual
reinforcement of pilgrims, but on the strength and
wealth of the two military orders. Unfortunately
these quarrelled, and the whole of Syria became
divided, Mohammedans as well as Christians, into
partisans of Knights Templars, or of Knights Hos-
pitallers. Henry of Champagne, the titular king, was
only anxious to get away, while Bohemond, the Prince
of Antioch, was only anxious to extend his own
territories. In Germany alone the crusading spirit yet
lingered, and a few Germans flocked yearly to the
sacred places. Germany did more. The emperor,
with forty thousand men, went to Palestine by way of
Italy. When he arrived, he found, to his amazement,
that the Christians did not want him — the truce con-
cluded with the Mohammedans being not yet broken.
The barons and princes had resolved not to break it at
all ; but rather to seek its renewal. But the Germans
496 JERUSALEM.
had not accomplished their long journey for nothing.
They issued from their camp at Acre in arms, and
broke the truce by wantonly attacking the Saracens.
Reprisals at once followed, as a matter of course.
Jaffa was attacked. Henry of Champagne hastened to
its defence. There he fell from a high window, and
was killed. The arrival of more Crusaders enabled the
Christians to meet El Melik el "Adil in open field, and
to gain a complete victory. They followed it up by
taking the seaboard towns, and the whole coast of
Syria was once more in the hands of the Christians.
Of Jerusalem no one thought except the common
soldiers, with whom the capture of the city remained
still a dream. Isabelle, the widow of Henry, was
married a fourth time, to Amaury de Lusignan, who
had succeeded his brother Guy on the throne of
Cyprus, and now became the titular king of Jerusalem,
a shadowy title, which was destined never to become a
real one, except for a very brief interval.
When the Germans went away, the Christians of
Palestine were once more at the mercy of the Saracens,
with whom they had broken the treaty. The Bishop
of Acre was sent to supplicate help from Europe. He
was shipwrecked and drowned almost immediately
after leaving port. Other messengers were sent.
These also were drowned in a tempest. So for a long
time news of the sad condition of the Christians did not
reach Europe. But, indeed, it was difficult to raise the
crusading spirit again in the West. Like a flame of
dry straw it had burned fiercely for a short time, and
then expired. Jerusalem was fading from the minds of
the people. It was become a city of memories, round
which the glories of those myths which gathered about
the name of Godfrey and Tancred were already present.
FAMINE IN EGYPT. 497
Innocent III., a young and ardent pope, wrote letter
upon letter. These produced little effect. He sent
preachers to promise men remission of sins in return for
taking the Cross. But it was a time when men were not
thinking much about their sins. Priests imposed the
penance of pilgrimage to Palestine ; but it does not
appear that many pilgrims went ; and boxes were placed
in all the churches to collect money; but it is not
certain that much money was put into them. Then
Fulke de Neuilly, the most eloquent priest of the time,
was sent to preach a crusade, and succeeded in fanning
the embers of the crusading enthusiasm once more into
an evanescent and short-lived flame. How little of
religious zeal there was in the movement may be
judged by the sequel, and we cannot here delay to
detail the progress of the Crusade which ended in the
conquest of Constantinople. No history can be found
more picturesque, more full of incident, and more
illustrative of the manners and thoughts of the time ;
but it does not concern Jerusalem. An old empire fell,
and a new one was founded, but Christendom was out-
raged by the spectacle of an expedition which started
full of zeal for the conquest of the Holy Land, and was
diverted from its original purposes to serve the ambition
of its leaders, and the avarice of a commercial city.
Egypt and Syria, meantime, were kept quiet from
war by troubles not caused by man. The annual
rise of the Nile ceased for a time wholly, or in part,
and a fearful famine, a famine of which the records
speak as dreadful beyond all comparison, set in ;
during this time men kept themselves alive by eating
the flesh of those who died, while the cities were
filled with corpses, and the river bore down on its
tide dead bodies as numerous as the lilies which bloom
32
498 JERUSALEM.
on its surface in spring. And before the famine, which
extended over Syria as well, had ceased, an earthquake
shook the country from end to end. Damascus, Tyre,
Nablous, were heaps of ruins ; the walls of Acre and
Tripoli fell down ; Jerusalem alone seemed spared, and
there the Christian and the Mohammedan met together,
still trembling with fear, to thank God for their safety.
The sums of money which Fulke de Neuilly had raised
in his preaching were spent in repairing the walls which
had fallen, and the knight sent messengers in all direc-
tions to implore the assistance of the West. Amaury,
a wise and prudent chief, died, leaving an infant son,
who also died a few days after him, and Isabelle was
a widow for the fourth time. Pope Innocent III.
could find none to go to the Holy Land but those
whom he ordered to go by way of penance. Thus, the
murderers of Conrad, Bishop of Wurtzburg, were en-
joined to bear arms for four years against the Saracens.
They were to wear no garments of bright colours ;
never to assist at public sports ; not to marry ; to march
barefooted, and dressed in woollen ; to fast on bread
and water two days a week, and whenever they came
to a city to go to the church, with bare backs, a rope
round the neck, and rods in the hand, there to receive
flagellation. But their penance was not so cruel as that
inflicted on the luckless Frotmond, already described.
Another criminal, one Robert, a knight, went to the
pope and confessed that while a captive in Egypt,
during the dreadful famine, he had killed his wife and
child, and kept himself alive by eating their flesh. The
pope ordered him to pass three years in the Holy Land.
The crown of Jerusalem devolved, by the death of
Amaury de Lusignan, on the daughter of Isabelle, by
her husband, Conrad of Tyre. The barons, looking for
THE CHILDREN'S CRUSADE. 499
a fit husband to share the throne with her, that is, to
become their leader in war, selected John de Brienne.
He was recommended by the King of France, ' as a
man good in arms, safe in war, and provident in busi-
ness.' And hopes were held out that another crusade
would be sent from France. On the strength of this
expectation, the Templars, in spite of contrary advice
from the Hospitallers, broke the truce which yet existed
with the Mohammedans, and open war began again.
King John de Brienne came with an army of three
hundred knights, and no more ; fortresses and towns
were taken ; the Christians began to drop off, and
desert the falling country ; and the new king soon
found himself with no place that he could call his own,
except the city of Acre. He sent to the pope for as-
sistance. The pope could not help him, because there
was a new and much easier crusade on the point of
commencing, that against the Albigeois. And then
happened that most wonderful episode in all this
tangled story, the Crusade of the Children, ' expeditio
nugatoria, expeditio derisoria.'
It had long been the deliberate opinion of many ec-
clesiastics that the misfortunes of the Christian king-
dom, and the failure of so many Crusades, were due to
the impure lives of the Christian soldiers. Since the
First Crusade it had been the constant and laudable
aim of the Church to maintain among the croiscs a feel-
ing that personal purity was the first requisite in an
expedition inspired solely by religious zeal. All their
efforts were vain ; laws were made, which were broken
at once. Shameful punishments were threatened, of
which no one took any notice. Even the camp of
Saint Louis himself was filled with every kind of im-
morality ; while that of Richard's Crusade, spite of
32—2
■joo JERUSALEM.
the strictest laws, became the scene of profligacy the
most unbridled. For every one Crusader, in the latter
expeditions, who was moved by a spirit of piety, there
might be found ninety-nine who took the Cross for love
of fighting, for the sake of their seigneurs, for sheer
desire of change, for a release from serfdom, forgetting
away from the burden of wife and family, for the
chance of plunder and license, and for every other un-
worthy excuse. Thus it was that the religious wars
fostered and promoted vice ; and the failure of army
after army was looked on as a clear manifestation of
God's wrath against the sins of the camp.
This feeling was roused to its highest pitch when, in
the year 1212, certain priests — Nicolas was the name of
one of these mischievous madmen — went about France
and Germany calling on the children to perform what the
fathers, through their wickedness, had been unable to
effect, promising that the sea should be dry to enable
them to march across ; that the Saracens would be
miraculously stricken with a panic at sight of them ;
that God would, through the hands of children only,
whose lives were yet pure, work the recovery of the
Cross and the Sepulchre. Thousands — it is said fifty
thousand — children of both sexes responded to the call.
They listened to the impassioned preaching of the
monks, believed their lying miracles, their visions, their
portents, their references to the Scriptures, and, in
spite of all that their parents could do, rushed to take
the Cross, boys and girls together, and streamed along
the roads which led to Marseilles and Genoa, singing
hymns, waving branches, replying to those who asked
whither they were going, ' We go to Jerusalem to
deliver the Holy Sepulchre,' and shouted their rallying
cry, ' Lord Jesus, give us back the Holy Cross.' They
THE CHILDREN'S CRUSADE. 501
admitted whoever came, provided he took the Cross ;
the infection spread, and the children could not be re-
strained from joining them in the towns and villages
along their route. Their miserable parents put them
in prison — they escaped ; they forbade them to go — the
children went in spite of prohibition. They had no
money, no provisions, no leaders ; but the charity of
the towns they passed through supported them. At
their rear streamed the usual tail of camp followers, those
people who lived wherever soldiers were found, follow-
ing in the track of the army like vultures, to prey on
the living, and to rob the dead. Of these there came
many, ribands et ribaudes, corrupting both boys and
girls, and robbing them of their little means ; so that
long before the army reached the shores of the Mediter-
ranean the purity of many was gone for ever.
There were two main bodies. One of these directed
its way through Germany, across the Alps, to Genoa.
On the road they were robbed of all the gifts which
had been presented to them ; they were exposed to
heat and want, and very many either died on the
march or wandered away from the road, and so became
lost to sight ; when they reached Italy they dispersed
about the country seeking food, were stripped by the
villagers, and in some cases reduced to slavery. Only
seven thousand out of their number arrived at Genoa.
Here they stayed for some days. They looked down
upon the Mediterranean, hoping that its bright waters
would divide to let them pass. But they did not ; there
was no miracle wrought in their favour; a few, of noble
birth, were received among the Genoese families, and
have given rise to distinguished houses of Genoa ;
among them is the house of Vivaldi. The rest, disap-
pointed and disheartened, made their way back again,
5 o2 JERUSALEM.
and got home at length, the girls with the loss of
their virtue, the boys with the loss of their belief, all
barefooted and in rags, laughed at by the towns they
went through, and wondering why they had ever gone
at all.
This was the end of the German army. That of the
French children was not so fortunate, for none of them
ever got home again at all. When they arrived at
Marseilles, thinned probably by the same causes as those
which had dispersed the Germans, they found, like their
brethren, that the sea did not open a path for them, as
had been promised. Perhaps some were disheartened
and went home again. But fortune appeared to favour
them. There were two worthy merchants at Marseilles,
named Hugh Ferreus and William Porcus, Iron Hugh
and Pig William, who traded with the East, and had in
port seven ships, in which they proposed to convey the
children to Palestine. With a noble generosity they
offered to take them for nothing ; all for love of religion,
and out of the pure kindness of their hearts. Of
course this offer was accepted with joy,^ and the
seven vessels, laden with the happy little Crusaders,
singing their hymns, and flying their banners, sailed
out from Marseilles bound for the East, accompanied
by William the Good and Hugh the Pious. It was not
known to the children, of course, that the chief trade of
these merchants was the lucrative business of kidnap-
ping Christian children for the Alexandrian market. It
was so, however, and these respectable tradesmen had
never before made so splendid a coup. Unfortunately,
off the Island of St. Peter they encountered bad
weather, and two ships went down, with all on board.
What must have been the feelings of the philanthro-
pists, Pig William and Iron Hugh, at this misfortune ?
THE CHILDREN'S CRUSADE. 503
They got, however, five ships safely to Alexandria, and
sold all their cargo, the Sultan of Cairo buying forty of
the boys, whom he brought up carefully and apart,
intending them, doubtless, for his best soldiers. A
dozen, refusing to change their faith, were martyred.
None of the rest ever came back. Nobody in Europe
seems to have taken much notice of this extraordinary
episode, and its memory has so entirely died out that
hardly a mention of it is found in any modern history
of the period. Thousands of children perished.
Probably their mothers wept, but no one else seems to
have cared. And the pope built a church on the Island
of Saint Peter, to commemorate the drowning of the
innocents, with the cold remark that the children were
doing what the men refused to do. It is, however,
pleasing to add that the two honest merchants were
accused some years afterwards of conspiring to
assassinate the Emperor Frederick, and so perished on
the gallows-tree.
In 1213, after the Children's Crusade, Innocent
essayed once more to wake the enthusiasm of Christen-
dom. He promised, as before, remission of sins to
those who took the Cross ; he wrote to the Sultans of
Damascus and Cairo, informing them that the Crusaders
were coming, and urged on them the advisability of
giving up Jerusalem peaceably : and he informed the
world that Islam was the Beast of the Apocalypse,
whose duration was to be six hundred and sixty years, of
which six hundred were already passed. Some, no
doubt, of his hearers thought that, such being the case,
they might very well be quiet for sixty years more. At
the same time he wrote to the Patriarch of Jerusalem
with strict injunctions to effect, if possible, a reform in
the morals of the Syrian Christians, as if that were a
504 JERUSALEM.
hopeful, or even a possible task ; and, as before, preach-
ing was ordered through every diocese, and collecting-
boxes for every church. In England the preaching was
a total failure. John saw a means of reconciling him-
self with the Church, and took the Cross. But the
barons, in their turn excommunicated, held aloof, and
occupied themselves with their home affairs. Philip
Augustus of France, after giving the fortieth part of
his wealth to the expenses of the Crusade, quarrelled
with the Cardinal de Courcon over the powers which
he assumed to possess as the legate of the pope. In
Germany, Frederick II., recently crowned King of the
Romans, took the Cross in the hope of preserving the
support of the Church, Otho, his rival, being at war
with the pope. Then came the Council of Lateran, at
which Innocent presided. He spoke of Jerusalem and
the Holy Land. His address was received without any
marks of enthusiasm. Nevertheless a Crusade was
actually undertaken, partly against the Prussians, partly
to Palestine. The latter was led by Andrew, King of
Hungary. It was conveyed in Venetian ships from
Spalatro and the towns of the Adriatic first to Cyprus,
where they were joined by the deputies of the king and
patriarch, and the military orders. Thence they sailed
to Acre, where they landed in 12 17. Like all the
crusading armies, this was too big to be manageable,
too diverse in its composition to be subject to discipline,
too unruly to be led, and under too many leaders.
They marched straight across Palestine, avoiding
Jerusalem and the south. They bathed in the Jordan,
and wandered along the banks of the Sea of Galilee,
singing hymns, making prisoners, and plundering the
towns, the Saracens not striking a blow. Their only
military exploit was an attempt on Mount Tabor, on
'ANDREW'S CRUSADE. 505
the top of which stood a fortress. There, too, were
the ruins of a church and the monasteries which the
Mohammedans had destroyed. The Crusaders climbed
the hill in the face of the enemy's arrows and stones,
and would have carried the fortress easily by assault
but for one of those panics which were always seizing
the Christians at this period. They all turned and fled
down the slope of the hill in the wildest confusion.
On their return to camp the chiefs accused each
other : the soldiers talked of treachery, and the
patriarch refused any more to bring out the wood of
the Cross — for this imposture had been started again.
To revive the spirits of the army, Andrew ordered
a march into Phoenicia. The time was winter : cold,
hail, and rain killed the troops : on Christmas Eve a
furious tempest destroyed their camp and killed their
horses. Dejected and discouraged, the Christians
returned to Acre. Famine began again, and it was
resolved to separate into four camps. John de Brienne,
King of Jerusalem, with the Duke of Austria, com-
manded the first, which lay in the plains of Csesarea :
the Kings of Hungary and Cyprus the second, which
was stationed at Tripoli : the Master of the Templars
the third, at the foot of Mount Carmel : the fourth
remained at Acre. The King of Cyprus died, and the
King of Hungary went home again. He had got
possession of the head of St. Peter, the right hand of
St. Thomas, and one of the seven vessels in which the
water had been turned into wine. His anxiety to put
these treasures in a place of safety was the chief cause
that led him to forsake the Crusade.
After his departure the Crusaders changed all their
plans, and — it is very curious to observe how per-
sistently they avoided Jerusalem, the pretended object
5o6 JERUSALEM.
of their aims — embarked at Acre for the siege of
Damietta, which they took after nearly two years of
fighting. This taken, they advanced on Cairo : on
the way, for we have no space to follow all their
misfortunes, the Nile overflowed, they were cut off
from all hope of succour, assailed on every side by the
enemy, and finally compelled to offer terms. During
the negotiations they found themselves deprived of
everything, encamped on a plain inundated by the
waters of the Nile — worn out by hunger and sickness.
The King of Jerusalem went himself to the sultan.
' There he sat down, and shed tears. " Sire," said the
sultan, "why do you weep?" "Sire," replied the
king, " I do well to weep, for the people with whom
God has charged me I see perishing in the midst of the
waters, and dying of hunger." The sultan had pity on
the king, and wept himself, and every day, for nearly a
week, sent thirty thousand loaves to poor and rich.'
So ended a Crusade which showed neither prudence
nor bravery, which began with an artificially-excited
enthusiasm, and was carried on by the leaders in
hopes of gaining personal distinction. There was no
discipline, no strong bond of a common hope ; the
knights deserted the banners after a defeat, and went
home, some of them without even striking a blow ; and
even in this time of relic-worship the wood of the Cross
failed to animate the spirits of the soldiers. Of all the
Crusades, this was the least worthy of success, the least
animated by religious ardour.
We are next to see the conquest of Jerusalem abso-
lutely effected by a Crusader, but by a Crusader under
excommunication and interdict, by means of a treaty
with the Mohammedans, and actually against the will
and wishes of the Church. It is a troubled and tangled
FREDERICK THE SECOND. 50/
web of dissimulation, ambition, and interested motives,
into which we dare not venture.* On the one hand we
have a sovereign, clear-sighted, gifted with a strong will,
highly educated, equal at all points of scholarship and
attainments to any Churchman, holding tolerant views
as to differences of religion, a poet, a musician, and an
artist ; one, too, who loved to associate with poets and
artists ; a king who surrounded himself with Mo-
hammedan friends, and made no sign of displeasure
when they performed the devotions due to their religion
in his very presence ; a lawyer far in advance of his age,
a gallant lover, and a magnificent prince. In his
Sicilian Court he welcomed alike Christian, Jew, and
Mohammedan — even Saracen ladies. Here the sturdy
and uncompromising faith of Western Europe was
shorn of its strength, and sapped by the spirit of
toleration, or, even worse, by the spirit of free-
thinking. Frederick himself wrote and spoke Arabic ;
he corresponded with the Sultan of Damascus, receiving
from him, and propounding himself, curious questions
in geometry. Society, in fact, modern society, born
before its time, was about to grow up amid the fostering
influences of Frederick, when its growth was checked
and destroyed by the interposition of the pope. For,
on the one side stood the Monk ; cold, bigoted, cut off
from social influences, old in the practice of austerities,
fanatic in the cause of the Church, arrogating to him-
self the blind obedience of the whole world, claiming
ever more and more the domination over men's hearts.
The Monk, personified by Pope Gregory IX., formerly
the Cardinal Ugolino, confronted the king, and bade
* See Milman's ' Hist, of Latin Christianity,' vol. iv., p. 196 et
seq n for as clear a statement of the imbroglio between Frederick
and the pope as can well be looked for.
508 JERUSALEM.
him do his bidding; while, to his monastic eyes, the
existence of such a court as that of Frederick's was
blasphemous, devilish, and full of sin.
Frederick had taken the Cross. He had, moreover,
pledged himself to embark from the Holy Land in
August, 1227. The time approached. Frederick had
already opened up negotiations with El Melek el Kamil,
the Sultan of Egypt. Presents had passed between
them. Even an elephant had been sent, and the
Church shuddered at this big and visible proof of
treachery on the part of Frederick. Pilgrims mean-
time assembled by thousands, and from all parts ;
Frederick failed in having provisions and ships for all
the throng ; the heats of summer came on with
violence, and fever broke out. But the fleet sailed
with Frederick. Three days afterwards his ship came
back. He was ill, and could not go.
Old Pope Gregory saw his opportunity. He would
use his power. Frederick was not ill, but only pretend-
ing illness. He preached from the text, ' It must needs
be that offences come, but woe unto him through whom
they come.' He pronounced the sentence of excom-
munication. Frederick wrote, on hearing of this, in
perfect good temper, calmly stating the fact of his
illness : he took no notice of the excommunication ;
but, after holding a Diet of the Barons of Apulia, he
issued an appeal to Christendom, calling on all the
sovereigns of Europe to shake off the intolerable yoke
of the priests, and declaring his own innocence in the
matter of the broken covenant. He called to witness
the ill-treatment and ingratitude with which the Church
had always repaid those who submitted — the malice
and bitterness with which the Church had always
persecuted those who refused to submit ; and he
FREDERICK THE SECOND. 509
pointed to the power and wealth of Rome as contrasted
with the poverty of the early Church. In the long
history of the world's revolt against the pretensions of
the priesthood, which has never for a moment ceased
since these pretensions first began to make themselves
heard, no more remarkable document has ever been
issued, save only the famous theses of Luther.
Frederick was rewarded by a second excommunica-
tion, and the pope placed every town in which he might
be under interdict. Then the people of Rome rose in
insurrection, and the pope fled.
Frederick went to the Holy Land. If he wished to
avoid fighting with his friends, the Saracens, he had
certainly succeeded ; because the Crusaders, forty
thousand in number, on hearing of Frederick's return
to Italy, all embarked and went home again. The king,
notwithstanding a peremptory order from the pope for-
bidding him to embark so long as he was under the ban
of the Church, set sail with a small fleet of twenty
galleys, and six hundred knights. He arrived at Acre.
The Knights Templars and Hospitallers received him
as their king. Frederick was now married to Yolante,
the daughter of John of Brienne, from whom he took
the crown of Jerusalem, on the ground that he only
held it in right of his wife, whose rights were now
descended to her daughter. The clergy refused to
meet him, and there came messengers from the pope,
by whose command the knights of the Orders withdrew
their help. Frederick went his own way. He sent
Balian, Prince of Tyre, as an ambassador to El Melek el
Kamil, who sent him back with valuable presents,
Saracenic robes, singers and dancing girls, and, above
all, Frederick's old friend Fakhr-ed-din. Then the
Templars wrote to the sultan proposing the assassina-
5io JERUSALEM.
tion of the emperor. Kamil quickly sent on the letter
to his friend, who read it and said nothing. The nego-
tiations between Frederick and Kamil went on in
secrecy ; they were so far advanced that the former
found himself in a position to disclose to the barons the
terms proposed. He sent for the Grand Masters of the
two Orders, and submitted his proposals to them.
They refused to act without the patriarch. Frederick,
knowing well enough that the patriarch would refuse to
act without the pope's consent, replied that he could
do without that prelate. And then the treaty was
signed. The Christians were to have Jerusalem,
except the Mosque of Omar, where the Mohammedans
were to worship freely ; the Saracens were to have
their own tribunal ; the emperor, King of Jerusalem, was
to send no succour to any who might attack the sultan ;
with some minor points. And as soon as the treaty
was signed, the Germans set off with Frederick, and
the Master of the Teutonic Knights, to the Holy City.
The Christians had got back their city. The Church of
Christ refused to have it, or to acknowledge, in any
way, the treaty. Frederick rode into the city to find
the church empty and deserted. With his knights and
soldiers he marched up the aisle, took the crown from
the altar, and put it on his own head, without oath or
religious ceremony of any kind. Nor did he affect any
religious zeal or manifest any emotion. ' I promised I
would come,' he said, ' and I am here.' It was his
answer to the world, and his defiance of the pope. His
vow was fulfilled, in a literal sense ; but the Crusade
was ruined. He had done more than any other king
since Godfrey ; he had recovered the city, but without
slaughtering the infidel, and subject to the conditions
that the Mohammedans were to practise their religion
CESSION OF JERUSA LEAL 5 1 1
within its walls. What did Frederick care for a
religion which he confounded with the gloomy teaching
of his ecclesiastical enemies ? ' I am not here,' he
confided to his friend Fakhr-ed-din, 'to deliver the Holy
City, but to maintain my own credit.'
And two days after his coronation he went away
again, in cynical contempt of the city and its church.
He wrote a letter to the pope and sovereigns of
Europe, stating that he had, ' by miracle,' taken the
city, which was henceforth Christian. The pope, in an
agony of rage at the way in which his enemy had
ignored his excommunication, foamed at the mouth,
and called the treaty a treaty of Belial. Moreover, he
could not but feel the awful irony of the situation,
when Jerusalem itself, and the Church of the Holy
Sepulchre, were forbidden to have the service of the
Christian religion performed in them, because their
deliverer, a Christian king, was under the interdict of
the pope. And here, reluctantly, we must leave the
fortunes of Frederick; not, perhaps, a good man, but a
better man than the arrogant and implacable monk
who opposed him ; and, perhaps, from an uneccle-
siastical point of view, the best man in a high place at
that time in all the world.
The treaty was signed in 1229. Frederick, in leaving
Palestine, left the Christians without a chief, without a
head. The Christians in Jerusalem, always dreading
an attack from the Saracens, were constantly taking
refuge in the Tower of David, or the surrounding
deserts. The patriarch, who had done most to estrange
the emperor, wrote letter after letter, imploring for
help. How many such letters had been sent since the
Crusades had first commenced ? Gregory had con-
cluded some sort of reconciliation with Frederick, and
512 JERUSALEM.
now asked his help in an attempt to get up a new-
Crusade. It was left to the Franciscan friars — Saint
Francis of Assisi had himself been present at the
Crusade of King Andrew — to preach this. There were
found a large number of barons in France to enrol
their names ; and by the Council of Tours it was
resolved that the Cross should no longer be a pretext
for the safety of every sort of criminal. But while the
Crusaders were assembling came the news of the down-
fall of the Latin kingdom of Constantinople, and a
discussion began as to whether it were better to go to
the help of that city instead of Jerusalem. And before
they had decided, came a message from Frederick
to wait for him. While they waited, civil war broke
out in Italy. The old animosity between Frederick
and the pope was revived ; and worse than this, the
treaty which Frederick had made with El Melek el
Kamil, which was for ten years only, expired ; and
the Saracens from Kerak, marching suddenly upon
Jerusalem, took it without the least resistance, and
razed the Tower of David. The pope had forbidden
the Crusaders to leave Europe ; but in spite of his
prohibition, a small army, under the Duke of Brittany
and the Count of Champagne, landed in Acre. After
a few ineffective forays, they experienced a defeat
which cost them the loss of many of their leaders. So
they all went home again, and were replaced by the
English prince, Richard of Cornwall, who afterwards
called himself Emperor of Germany. The Saracens
thought that Richard Lion Heart was coming back
again, and awaited his approach with the keenest terror.
But he did nothing. Abandoned both by Templars
and Hospitallers, he contented himself with ransoming
the Christian prisoners, and, after visiting Jerusalem
THE KHAREZMIANS. 513
and worshipping at the Holy Places, Richard returned
to Europe, and the turmoil of European wars.
And now a new enemy appeared in the field. The
people of Kh'arezm, driven westwards by the Tartars,
came into Syria, a wild and ferocious band, with their
wives and children, sparing neither Mohammedans nor
Christians. Had the forces in Syria been united, a
successful stand might have been made against them.
But the Mohammedans were divided among them-
selves, and the Sultan of Cairo offered the Kharezmians
Palestine for their own, if they would conquer it. They
accepted the offer with joy, and marched twenty thou-
sand strong upon Jerusalem. All the people in the
city abandoned it hastily, except the helpless poor and
infirm. These the Kharezmians found in their beds,
and after killing them, thirsting for more blood, they
inveigled back the Christians by hoisting the flags of
the Cross. The flying Christians, looking round from
time to time, caught sight at last of the banner of
victory. Satisfied that God had delivered the city by
a special miracle, and hearing, moreover, the bell ring
for prayer, they trooped back to the city. Directly they
were within the gates, the Kharezmians, who had only
withdrawn a short distance, returned and surrounded
them. In the depth of night the unhappy Christians
endeavoured to fly. They were all cut to pieces.
None were spared. And the barbarians then turned
their wrath upon the very tombs, and tore up the
coffins of Godfrey and Baldwin, which they burned
with all the sacred relics they could find.
The Templars at Acre called on the Saracen princes
of Damascus, Emessa, and Kerak, to make common
cause against their common enemy. They came to
Acre, headed by the valiant El Melik el Mensur, Prince
33
514 JERUSALEM.
of Emessa, whose entrance into the city was greeted
with shouts of applause. The allied armies met the
Kharezmians on the plain of Philistia, the battlefield
of so many periods and so many peoples. A curious
incident is told, which took place before the battle.
The Count of Jaffa, an excommunicated man, asked
the patriarch, who was there with his wood of the
Cross, as usual, for absolution. He refused it. Again
he asked, to be again refused. But then the Bishop of
Rama, impatient of his superior's obstinacy, cried out,
' Never mind. The patriarch is wrong, and I absolve
you myself Of course one priest's absolution is as
good as another's, and the count went into battle, to be
killed with a light heart. They fought all that day, and
all the next day, with a ferocity which nothing could
equal. But then the Mohammedans gave way, and the
victory remained with the Kharezmians. Of the allies
thirty thousand lay dead on the field, while of the Chris-
tian knights there returned to Acre only the Prince of
Tyre, the Patriarch of Jerusalem, with his holy Wood of
the Cross, thirty-three Templars, twenty-six Knights of
St. John, and three Teutonic knights. The Kharezmians
came before Jaffa. They tied Walter de Brienne, who
was their prisoner, to a cross, and told him that unless
he exhorted the besieged to submission they would put
him to death. He called on the garrison to defend
themselves to the last extremity, and was sent to Cairo,
where he was murdered by the mob. Palestine was
relieved of the presence of the Kharezmians by the
Sultan of Cairo, who sent them to Damascus, which
they took and plundered. They then demanded the
fulfilment of his promise as regarded the lands of
Palestine. But the sultan prevaricated, and refused,
sending ^an army of Egyptians against them ; they
SAINT LOUIS. 515
were defeated in ten battles, and perish out of history
altogether, having only appeared for the brief space of
three or four years.
The Kharezmians were gone ; but the Christians,
who had suffered most of any at their hands, were in a
condition of terrible weakness. So threatening was
the state of affairs, that they once more forced their
claims on the pope, and showed how, without help,
they were all undone. The pope renewed all the
privileges accorded by his predecessor to those who
took the Cross. And then followed the Crusades of
Saint Louis. Of his expedition to Egypt, the siege of
Damietta, the calamities which befell his army, his
own captivity, his ransom and freedom, we cannot here
speak. They belong to the special history of the
Crusades.
It was in 1250, after his return, that Saint Louis
visited Acre. He had with him a small number of
knights, all in rags, and deprived of everything. A
pestilence broke out in the city. Louis remained, en-
deavouring to ransom the twelve thousand Christian
captives from the Sultan of Cairo. Meantime he was
urgently wanted at home, where that most singular
movement, known as the revolt of the Pastoureaux, was
distracting his country. And all efforts failed to raise
bands of new Crusaders. Some, however, went to join
the king. Among them was a Norwegian knight,
named ' Alenar de Selingan,' according to Joinville,
who, with his companions, beguiled the time till they
should be fighting the Saracens by slaying the lions in
the desert. The Sheikh of the Assassins also sent an
embassy with presents to Louis, asking for his friend-
ship, and offering to remain as firmly allied to him ' as
the fingers on the hand or the shirt to the body.'
33—2
516 JERUSALEM.
Ives, a monk who could speak Arabic, was sent back
on the part of the king with a present of gold and
silver cups and scarlet mantles. He brought back a
confused and wondrous story of the religion of this
sect (see p. 359). He described them, oddly, as having
a wonderful veneration for Peter, whom they main-
tained to be still alive. And he told how a mournful
silence reigned round the castle of the Sheikh, and
how, when he appeared in public, a herald went before,
crying out, ' Whoever you are, fear to appear before
him who holds in his hand the life and death of
kings.'
Louis, meantime, was repairing the fortification of
Csesarea and Jaffa, and making severe laws against the
dissolute morals of the Christians in the East and
of his own men. His knights went on pilgrimages to
Jerusalem, whither he refused himself to go. But he
went to Nazareth, to Mount Tabor, and other sacred
places.
After a little fighting, the news of his mother's death
determined him to go home. He sailed in 1254, having
been four years engaged in his disastrous expedition,
which only had the effect of making the Mohammedans
cautious how far they attacked the Christian settle-
ments, and mindful of the exasperation into which
their fall might throw the West of Europe. The sub-
sequent efforts to raise a Crusade all failed. The poets
as well as the priests did their best, but with no success.
It is remarkable, however, that there is not a word
about crusading in the whole of the ' Romance of the
Rose,' except a reference or two to the palm of the
pilgrim. Neither of its writers, certainly, was at all
likely to be touched by the crusading enthusiasm.
Rutebeuf, however, throws himself into the projected
RUTEBEUF. 517
Crusade with extraordinary vigour. ' Ha ! roi de
France !' he cries —
' Ha ! roi de France !
Acre est toute jor en balance.'
He laments that no one will come to the help of the
sacred places.
'Ah ! Antioch ; ah ! Holy Land,
Thy piteous wail has reached this strand.
We have no Godfrey, brave and bold ;
The fire of charity is cold
In every Christian heart ;
And Jacobin and Cordelier
May preach, but not for love or fear
Will soldier now depart.'
He shows, too, the change come over the thoughts of
men by giving a dispute between a croise and one who
refuses to take the Cross, in which the latter advances
the startling proposition, not heard since the time of
Origen, that a man can very well get to heaven
without ' pilgrimizing,' and without fighting for the
Cross.*
But Rutebeuf is very urgent. He laments the decay
of religious zeal.
' O'ergrown with grass the long road lies,
Thick trodden once by eager feet,
When men pressed on with streaming eyes,
Themselves to offer at God's seat.
They send, instead, wax tapers now ;
God has no true hearts left below.'
The fatal thing, however, was a feeling slowly growing
up that it was God's will that the Church of the
Sepulchre should belong to the infidel ; and a bishop of
a somewhat later time gives three reasons for this ;
* ' Je dis que cil est foux nayx,
Qui se mest en autrui servage
Quant Dieu peut gaaigner sayx
Et vivre de son heritage.'
518 JERUSALEM.
namely, first, as a plea for the Christians ; second, for
the confusion of the Saracens ; and, thirdly, for the
conversion of the Jews. And for the first reason he
argues that Christians will never be allowed to have
the city again till they are sinless, because God will not
have His children commit sin in such a place ; as for
the Saracens, they are, of course, only dogs ; now the
master of a house is not very careful about the be-
haviour of his dogs, but he cannot bear ill behaviour
on the part of his children.
Little now remains to tell, because Jerusalem passes
away from history, and the events which follow are
hardly even indirectly concerned with the Holy City.
Louis led another Crusade, and met his death at Tunis.
Edward of England, with his brother Edmund, and
eight hundred men came to Acre, but were, of course,
of little use with so small a reinforcement ; and, after
concluding a treaty with the Sultan of Egypt, they, too,
departed. Then twenty years of expectation and fear
pass away ; Europe looks with indifference upon the
Holy Land ; Laodicea is taken ; Tripoli is taken ; and,
lastly, Acre itself is taken. The siege of this, the last
place held by the Christians, lasted a month, when the
Mohammedans entered the city, after a furious assault.
They were driven back by arrows and stones hurled
from the houses ; day after day they came on, were
repelled with slaughter, and every day the Christians
saw their camp growing larger and larger. The
military orders fought with a heroism which caused
the Saracens to think that two men were fighting in
every knight. But the end came at length, with a great
and terrible carnage. The nuns, trembling, and yet
heroic, actually preserved their honour by cutting off
their noses, so that the Saracens only killed them. The
LATER PILGRIMS.
519
Patriarch of Jerusalem was put on board a ship, en-
treating to be allowed to die with his flock. The ship
sank, and he was drowned, so that his prayer was
granted. A violent storm was raging. Ladies rushed
to the port, offering the sailors all they had, diamonds,
pearls, and gold, to be put on board. Those who had
no money or jewels were left on the shore to the mercies
of the victors. The Templars held out in their castle a
few days longer, and then surrendered. All were killed.
52o JERUSALEM.
So ended, after two hundred years of continued fighting,
the Christian settlements in Palestine.* The West
heard the news of the fall of Acre with a sort of un-
reasoning rage, and instantly set about mutual accusa-
tions as to the cause of its fall. And the wretched
Pullani, the Syrian Christians, who had survived the
taking of Acre, dropped over one by one to Italy, and
begged their bread in the streets while they told the
story of their fall.
Pilgrims and travellers continued to visit Jerusalem.
Sir John Mandeville was there, early in the fourteenth
century, and describes the churches and sacred sites, but
says little enough about the condition of the people.
Bertrandon de la Roquiere was there a hundred years
later. He says that though there were many other
Christians in Jerusalem, the Franks experienced the
greatest amount of persecution from the Saracens, and
that there were only two Cordeliers in the Church of
the Sepulchre. And in the same century Ignatius
Loyola twice went on pilgrimage. He wished to end
his days in Palestine, but this was, unhappily, denied
him, and he returned, to be a curse to the world by
establishing his society. Among other pilgrims, passing
over various princes and kings, may be mentioned
Korte, the bookseller of Altona, early in the eighteenth
century, who was the first to assail the authenticity
of the sites ; and Henry Maundrell, chaplain to the
English factory at Aleppo.
But during the interval of five hundred years
Jerusalem has been without a history. Nothing has
* In the same year the house of the Virgin was miraculously
transferred from Nazareth to a hill in Dalmatia ; whence, by
another miracle, it came to Loretto. Why did not the Holy
Sepulchre come too ?
CONCLUSION. 521
happened but an occasional act of brutality on the part
of her masters towards the Christians, or an occasional
squabble among the ecclesiastics. Perhaps, some time,
the day may come when all together will be agreed that
there is no one spot in the world more holy than
another, in spite of associations, because the whole
earth is the Lord's. Then the tender interest which
those who read the Scriptures will always have for the
places which the writers knew so well may have a fuller
and freer play, apart from lying traditions, monkish
legends, and superstitious impostures. For, to use the
words which Cicero applied to Athens, there is not one
spot in all this city, no single place where the foot may
tread, which does not possess its history.
INDEX.
Abu Bekr, 73
Abu '1 Casim, 482
Abu '1 Faraj, 481
Abu '1 Fath Nasr, 481
Abu Ishak, 478
Abu Obeidah, 75, 473
Abu Said Barkuk, 486
Abu Taher, 104
Abiidat ibn es Samit, 474
Acre, 408, 449, 455
Adana, 183
Adhemar, 159, 189, 191, 193
yElia Capitolina, 60
Afdhal, 216, 367
Agrippa, chap. i.
Akiba (Rabbi), 56
Albinus, 9
Alexandria surrenders to Shirkoh,
342 ; taken by Amaury, 343
Alexis Comnenus, chap. vi.
Alice of Antioch, 281, 289
Alimi, El, 489
Al Imam es Shafi, 486
Amaury, King, chap. xiv.
Amaury de Lusignan, 496
Andrew's Crusade, 504
Anselm, vision of, 197
Antioch, siege of, 187
Antoninus, 129
Arabs, their characters and arts,
100
Armenians, 475
Arm of Ambrose, loss of, 231
Arnold, 194, 205, 241
Arnulphus, 129
Ascalon, 116, 344, 455
Ashraf Barsebai, Sultan, 486
Catibai, Sultan El, 490
Einal, Sultan El, 489
Shaban, Es Sultan, 486
Assassins, murder of messenger, 356:
sect of, 359
Assises de Jerusalem, 224
Babain, battle of, 341
Baghi Seyan, 187
Baldwin I., chap, viii., 183, 223.
II., chap. ix.
III., chap, xi., 298
IV., chap. xiii.
V., 373
Baldwin du Bourg, 249, 253, and
chap. ix.
Balian of Ibelin, 393
Barcochebas, 57
Battle of Lake Huleh, 324
Bedawin in Jerusalem, 493
Beirut, attempt on, 463
Belial ibn Rubah, 473
Benjamin of Tudela, 365
Berenice, 14
Bernard, 334
Beitram of Tripoli, 251
Bertrand de Blanqueford, 346
Bether, 59
■ , identification of, 60
Beyrout, 11
, taking of, 253
Bir el Warakah (Well of the Leaf),
471
Bishop's Pilgrimage, 149
Blanchegarde, 296
Bohemond, 172, 246
Bordeaux Pilgrim, 127
Burham-ed-din, Sheikh, 488
Burziyeh, castle of, 445
Cadam es S her if, 468
Cadhi of Jerusalem, 488
Caesarea, 8, 18, 198, 242
Calaun, Es Sultan, 485
Caliph of Cairo, 340
Carmathians, the, 104
Carrier pigeons, 448
Cestius Gallus, 11 ; defeat of, 18
Chain, ordeal of the, 448
Charlemagne, 136
INDEX.
523
Chiefs of First Crusade, 148
Children's Crusade, 500
Chosroes takes Jerusalem and de-
stroys Church of Holy Sepul-
chre, 70
Christians of city imprisoned, 493
Claudius Felix, 6
Clermont, Council of, 158
Ccenaculum, 487
Coloman, King, chap. vi.
Completion of Temple, 10
Conrad of Tyre, 408
Constance of Antioch, 343
Constantine builds Basilica, 64 ; de-
crees against Jews, 67
Cruelty of Christians, 452, 454
Crusades, time ripe for, 185
Crusaders, return of, 219
Cubbet el Miraj, 470
Cuspius Fadus, 4
Dagobert, 223, 239, 240, 241, 246
Damascus, siege of, 305
Damietta, 505
, Greek fleet at, 352
Darum, capture of, 459
Dhaher Chakmak, El Melik, 487
, El Melik el, 488
Dhia-ed-Din, 483
Dome of the Rock, erection of, 86 ;
repair of, 91, 102 ; inscription in,
94 ; not a mosque, 93
Druzes, their teaching, 115
Earthquake in Palestine, 352
Eastern Cloisters, 10
Edessa, fall of, 301
Edgar Atheling, 171
Edrei, 303
Effects of Christian occupation, 273
El Adhed, 369
El Arish, 257
El Emad, 445
El Ghazali, 432
Eleanor, Queen, 313
Emico, 167
End of the world expected, 146
Es Sirat, Bridge of, 471
Eusebius, 63 et seq.
Eustace de Bouillon, 263
Gamier, 265
Ezz-ed-din, 490
Fair of September, 139
Fakhr-ed-din, 509
Falek-ed-din, 460
Famine in city, 491
Fatemite Caliphs, 334
Festus, 9, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16
Florus, Gessius, 11, 12, 13, 14
Foulcher de Chartres, 236
Fragrant herb, consecration of the,
477
Francis of Assisi, 572
Frederic, D. of Swabia, 408
Frederick II., 506
Red beard, 407
Freisingen, Bishop of, 312
Frotmond, story of, 136
Fulke, chap, x., 282
the Black, 146
Garnier de Grey, 234
Gessius Florus, 1 1
Ghars-ed-din, 491
Godfrey, chap, vii., 170, 205
Gorgona, disaster in the Valley of,
181
Gotschalk, 166
Gregory IX., 507
Guy de Lusignan, chap, xiv., 377
Guymer, 185
Hadrian, 56 ; builds Temple of
Jupiter on site of Temple, 60
Hajj, the, 466
Hakem, el, 10S, 142
Haram repaired, 494
Harun Er Raschki, 136
Helena, Life of, 61 ; Invention of
the Cross, 62
Henry of Champagne, 410, 495
Heraclius, 72, 74, 76
the Patriarch, 379
Hisam-ed-din, 490
Holy Fire, miracle of, 241
Holy Grail, the, 243
Holy Lance, vision of the, 191 ;
discovery of, 192
Holy Sepulchre, discovery of, 63 ;
adornment of, 64
Hugh of Caesarea, 339
of Jaffa, 291
Vermandois, 172, 231, 235
Humphrey de Toron, 377, 452
Ida of Austria, 231
Interdicts in Palestine, 322
524
INDEX.
Jami-en-Nisa, 471
Jerome, 125
Jerusalem, repair of the walls, 457
, siege of, by Titus, chap. ii.
, siege and fall of, 395
, taking of, by Saladin, 585
Jesus, son of Ananus, 27
Jews, heroism of, 48
Jocelyn, 262, 264, 289
II., 300
John de Brienne, 505
Comnenus, 293
of Gischala, chap. ii.
Josephus, chap. ii.
Judas the Galilaean, 3
Julian, attempts to rebuild the
Temple, 67
Ka'abeh, the desertion of, 105
Khalit ibn el Walid, 474
Kharezmians, 513
Khotbah of Muhiy-ed-din, 433
King, choice of, 211
Knights Hospitallers, foundation of,
275
Templars, foundation of, 276
Kokeb, capture of, 443
Lietbert, 149
Longsword, William, 375
Louis VII., chap. x.
IX, 515
Macam en nebe, 470
Macarias, 149
Magharah, the, 468
Manahem, 17
Manners of the Syrian Christians,
328
Maria of Constantinople, 344
Masjid el Aksa, 85, 434
Mejir-ed-din, 490
Milan, Bishop of, 231 ; his army
entirely destroyed, 232
Milicent, 293, 300, 325
Milo de Plancy, 374
Moazzem, El Melik el, 484
Modern city, chap. xix.
Mohammedan beliefs, 471
pilgrims, chap. xvii.
Mohammed ibn Karram, 481
, Sultan, 484
Montferrat, assassination of Marquis
of, 409, 458
Montreal, capture of, 337
Mount Taurus, passes of, 186
Nahr el Casb, battle of, 455
Nasir-ed-din, 490
Nasir Farj, Sultan, 486
Naval defeat of Mohammedans,
451
Nero, 8
Nevers, Duke of, 231; defeat of,
232
, Count of, 344
Nicaea, battle of, 169 ; siege of, 177
Nicephorus Phocas, 106, 141
Nicolas, preacher, 447
Mr-ed-din, 315, 324, 326, 336, 337,
345. 323, 365
Nuseiriyeh, doctrines of the, 475
Odolric, 145
Omar, Caliph, 75 et seq.
Ordeal by fire, 194
Order of St. Lazarus, 275
Pancrates, 185
Paula and Eudoxia, 125
Peregrinationes, majoreset minores,
133
Peter the Hermit, 155, and through-
out chap. vi.
Philip Augustus, 407
of Flanders, 376
Pilgrim's Progress, the, 130
service, the, 131
Pilgrimage, passion for, 124
Plague in Jerusalem, 493
Pons of Tripoli, 293
Population of Jerusalem, 25
Porphyry, 125
Pyrrhus, 189
Rabbinical Law, 52
Rains at Jerusalem, 492
Ramleh, 198, 244
Raymond, grand master of Hospit-
allers, 321
Raymond of Plaisance, 147
Poitiers, 321
Toulouse, 171,218, 219,
229, 249
Relics, finding of, 139, et passim
Renaud de Chatillon, 320, 321, 323
378, 430, 440
of Sidon, 457
INDEX.
525
Renegades, story of, at Cyprus,
45o
Richard Cceur de Lion, chap, xv.,
and 452
of St. Vitou, 149
Robert of Flanders, 174, 190, 210
Normandy, 172, [92
Orleans, 143
Roger of Antioch, 255
Rutebeuf, 517
Sakhrah, Mohammedan belief con-
cerning, 468
purification of, by Saladin,
446
Saladin, 355, 376, 378, 405, chap,
xvi.
Saladin's holy war, 418
Samaritans, 6, 68
Second Crusade, 309
Seif-ed-din, 399, 452
Selman el Farsi, 477
Sepulchre, Church of the, destroyed
by Chosroes, 71 ; rebuilt by Mod-
estus, 71 ; by Thomas, 102 ; de-
stroyed by Hakem, 113
Shakif, fortress of, 444
Sharafal, 488
Shawer, 334, 343, 346
and Dhargam, 334
Sheddad ibn Aus, 478
Shehab-ed-din, 491
Sherf-ed-din, 491
Shirkoh, 343
Sicarii, 7
Sigard of Norway, 253
Simon Ben Gioras, chap. ii.
Sophronius, 79
Stephanus, 5
Stephen of Blois, 173, 190, 228
, Count of Perche, 325
Sufyan eth Thori, 480
Suk el Marifah, 470
Sybille, 377, 379, 410, chap. xiv.
Sylvester converts the Jews, 66
Tancred, 172, 197, 250
Tell es Siyasiyeh, 446
Templars, defeat of, 387
Theodora of Constantinople, 326
Thcudas, 4
Thierry of Flanders, 295
Thomas (patriarch) rebuilds Church
of Sepulchre, 102
Tiberius, battle of, 389, 419
Tiberias, Alexander, 4
Tithe of Saladin, 405
Titus : his army, 20; number of, 21,
22 ; besieges Jerusalem, chap. ii.
Toghrul Beg, 120
Tomb of David, 487
Trajan, revolt under, 54
Tripoli, 251
Truce between Saladin and Richard,
463
True Cross, Invention of, 62 ; dis-
covery of piece of, 216
, loss of, 425
Tutush, 121
Tyre, 271
, siege of, 439
Ventidius Cumanus, 5, 6
Vespasian in Galilee, 19 ; taxes the
Jews, 54
Walter the Penniless, 162
Walter of Coesarea, 291
William of Cerdagne, 251
Willibald, 135
Yaghmuri, El, 486
Yarmuk, battle of, j6
Zanghi, 281, 290, 294, 295, 368
Zidugdi, 490
Zimisces, 106, 142
Zirayeh, the, 466
THE END.
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