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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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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 
 
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