The religious orders of the knights, a product of the Crusades, found their antitype in similar organisations of the Moslems, orders that had exactly the same tendencies and regulations. Such an order established for the spread of Islam and the protection of its followers was that of the Raabites or boundary-guards in the Pyrenean peninsula. These knights made a vow to carry, throughout their lives, arms in defence of the faith; they led an austere existence, were not allowed to fly in battle, but were compelled either to conquer or fall. Like the Templars or the Hospital Knights their whole endeavour was to gain universal dominion for their religion. The relation existing between the Moslems and the Christians before the Crusades was much closer than is generally imagined. Moslem soldiers often fought in the ranks of the Christian armies; and it was by no means rare to see a Christian ruler call upon Moslem warriors to assist him against his adversary. Pope Gregory rescued Rome from the hands of his imperial opponent, Henry of Germany, only with the aid of the Saracen soldiers.
When, therefore, the influence of Muhammedanism began to assert itself throughout the south of Europe, it was natural that in a crude and stirring age, when strife was the dominant passion of the people, the idea of a holy war in the cause of faith was one in which Christian Europe was ready to take an example from the followers of Islam. The political, economical, and social state of affairs, the misery and suffering of the people, and even the hierarchy and the ascetic spirit of the time certainly made the minds of the people accessible to the idea of war; the spirit of unrest was pervasive and the time was ripe, but the influence of Islam was a prominent factor in giving to it an entirely religious aspect.
But even in the means employed to incite the Christian warriors and the manner in which the Crusades were carried on, there is a great similarity between the Christian and the Muhammedan procedure. The Church, when espousing the cause of the Crusader, did exactly what Muhammed had done when he preached a holy war. The Church addressed itself to the weaknesses and passions of human nature. Fallen in battle, the Moslem, so he was told, would be admitted—be he victor or vanquished—to the joys of Paradise. The same prospect animated the Crusader and made him brave danger and die joyfully in defence of Christianity. “Let them kill the enemy or die. To submit to die for Christ, or to cause one of His enemies to die, is naught but glory,” said Saint Bernard. Eloquently, vividly, and in glowing colours were the riches that awaited the warriors in the far East described: immense spoil would be taken from the unbelievers. Preachers did not even shrink from extolling the beauty of the women in the lands to be conquered. This fact recalls Muhammed’s promise to his believers that they would meet the ever-beautiful dark-eyed houris in the life after death. To the material, sensual allurements, the Church added spiritual blessings and eternal rewards, guaranteed to those who took the red cross. During the Crusades the Christians did their utmost to copy the cruelties of the Moslems. That contempt for human life, that entire absence of mercy and the sense of pity which is familiar in all countries where Islam has gained sway is characteristic also of the Crusades.
Although the narrative of the Crusades belongs rather to the history of Europe than of any one country, it is so closely intertwined with the history of Egypt at this period that some digression is necessary. About twenty years after the conquest of Jerusalem by the Turks, in 1076, the Holy Sepulchre was visited by a hermit of the name of Peter, a native of Amiens, in the province of Picardy, France. His resentment and sympathy were excited by his own injuries and the oppression of the Christian name; he mingled his tears with those of the Patriarch, and earnestly inquired if no hope of relief from the Greek emperors of the East could be entertained. The Patriarch exposed the vices and weakness of the successors of Constantine. “I will rouse,” exclaimed the hermit, “the martial nations of Europe in your cause;” and Europe was obedient to the call of the hermit. The astonished Patriarch dismissed him with epistles of credit and complaint; and no sooner did he land at Bari than Peter hastened to kiss the feet of the Roman pontiff. Pope Urban II. received him as a prophet, applauded his glorious design, promised to support it in a general council, and encouraged him to proclaim the deliverance of the Holy Land. Invigorated by the approbation of the pontiff, this zealous missionary traversed with speed and success the provinces of Italy and France. He preached to innumerable crowds in the churches, the streets, and the highways: the hermit entered with equal confidence the palace and the cottage; and the people of all classes were impetuously moved by his call to repentance and arms.
The first Crusade was headed by Godefroy de Bouillon, Duke of Lower Lorraine; Baldwin, his brother; Hugo the Great, brother of the King of France; Robert, Duke of Normandy, son of William the Conqueror; Raymond of St. Gilles, Duke of Toulouse; and Bohemond, Prince of Tarentum. Towards the end of 1097 A.D. the invading force invested Antioch, and, after a siege of nine months, took it by storm. Edessa was also captured by the Crusaders, and in the middle of the summer of 1098 they reached Jerusalem, then in the hands of the Fatimites.
El-Mustali b’Illah Abu’l Kasim, son of Mustanssir, was then on the throne, but he was only a nominal ruler, for El-Afdhal, a son of El-Gemali, had the chief voice in the affairs of the kingdom. It was the army of Kasim that had captured Jerusalem. The city was besieged by the Crusaders, and it surrendered to them after forty days. Twice did new expeditions arrive from Egypt and attempt to retake the city, but with disastrous results, and further expeditions were impossible for some time, owing to the internal disorders in Egypt. Mustali died after a reign of about four years; and some historians record, as a truly remarkable circumstance, that he was a Sunnite by creed, although he represented a Shiite dynasty.
The next ruler, El-Amir, was the five-year-old son of Mustali, and El-Afdhal conducted the government until he became of age to govern. His first act was to put El-Afdhal to death. Under El-Amir the internal condition of Egypt continued unsatisfactory, and the Crusaders, who had been very successful in capturing the towns of Syria, were only deterred from an advance on Egypt by the death of their leader, Baldwin. In a.h. 524, some of the surviving partisans of El-Afdhal, it is said, put El-Amir to death, and a son of El-Afdhal assumed the direction of affairs, and appointed El-Hafiz, a grandson of Mustanssir as caliph. Afdual’s son, whose name was Abu Ali Ahmed, perished in a popular tumult. The new caliph had great trouble with his next three viziers, and at length abolished the office altogether. After reigning twenty years, he was succeeded by his licentious son, Dhafir, whose faults led to his death at the hand of his vizier, El-Abbas.
For the ensuing six years the supreme power in Egypt was mainly the bone of contention between rival viziers, although El-Faiz, a boy of five, was nominally elected caliph on the death of Dhafir. El-Abbas was worsted by his rival, Tataë, and fled to Syria with a large sum of money; but he fell into the hands of the Crusaders, was returned to Tataë, and crucified.