Frequently he would leave his monastery to appear before kings and church councils, always swaying them at will. During the year 1146 he traveled through France and Germany, preaching a second crusade. The effect of his preaching was almost miraculous. In some instances the whole population of cities and villages seemed to rise en masse, flocking to the crusade standards.
“In the towns where I have preached,” he said, “scarcely one man is left to seven women.”
Emperor Conrad and Louis, King of France, were easily won to the cause, and in 1147 the vast horde of crusaders started for the Holy Land. Probably only one-tenth reached Palestine, and the expedition resulted in failure. A miserable remnant returned home, defeated and disgraced. The blame was thrown on Bernard and it was no doubt this sorrow that hastened his death, in the year 1153.
His noble Good Friday hymn, which in Latin begins with the words, Salve caput cruentatum, alone would have gained undying fame for Bernard, but we are indebted to this gifted monk for another remarkable poem, De Nomine Jesu, from which at least three of our most beautiful English hymns have been derived. One of these is a translation by the Englishman, Edward Caswall:
Jesus, the very thought of Thee
With sweetness fills my breast;
But sweeter far Thy face to see
And in Thy presence rest.
A second by the same translator is equally beautiful:
O Jesus! King most wonderful,