The History of Chivalry

by G. P. R. James

In the mean while the Christians, who had suffered what appeared the extreme of privation while assailing the very walls they now defended, were reduced to a state of famine which beggars all description.[368] The most noisome animals, the most unsavoury herbs, became dainties at the tables of the great. The horses that remained were slaughtered without consideration, and all virtue and order gave way under the pressure of necessity.

All sorts of vice became rife, and debauchery grew the more horrid from being the debauchery of despair. The Persians, encamped closely round them, had burnt the vessels, destroyed the port of St. Simeon, and cut off all communication with the neighbouring country. Nevertheless their guard was not so strict but that many of the crusaders escaped over the walls,[369] and fled to the Count of Blois at Alexandretta, excusing their pusillanimity by tales of the horrors they had undergone. Stephen of Blois, now rejoicing in his timely evasion, abandoned his comrades altogether, and with the stragglers who had joined him from Antioch, among whom were many knights and nobles of distinction, he retreated towards Constantinople.[370] By the way he encountered a large force commanded by Alexius, who was marching, not to succour the crusaders, whose condition he did not yet know, but to take advantage of their conquests. The cowardly monarch, in deep sympathy with the cowardly fugitives, turned his back upon Antioch the moment he heard of its danger, and pursued his journey towards his capital, forcing along with him a considerable body of French and Italian crusaders, who, under the command of Guy,[371] the brother of Boemond, had been advancing to the aid of their brethren. The news of Alexius’s approach had filled the hearts of the besieged with joy, and the tidings of his retreat of course cast them into still deeper despair. The soldiers forgot their honour and abandoned their posts, hiding in the houses and avoiding every thing that called them into activity. As a last resource to drive them to their duty, Boemond[372] set fire to parts of the town where they were supposed principally to linger; but hope seemed extinguished in every breast, and though the inferior troops returned to some degree of energy, yet the leaders knew full well that without succour—and no succour was near—nothing short of a miracle could save them from their distress. Within the walls they starved,[373] and died, and wasted; and they could hardly be expected to issue forth upon the enemy, when Godfrey himself, their noblest leader, and tacitly their chief, was destitute of even a horse to carry him to the battle. At the same time, from the walls of the city, the luxuries of the Turkish camp might be beheld in tantalizing splendour.[374] Gold and jewels, and rich silks, and beautiful horses, and gay seraglios, seemed rather indications of some joyous company than of a fierce besieging army. Troops of cattle, too, of all kinds, were seen feeding round about, while the acute tooth of famine was gnawing the entrails of those who stood and looked upon all the magnificence and profusion before them.

Many even of the leaders of the crusade[375] were reduced to absolute beggary, and several became completely dependent on the bounty of Godfrey for mere food, till he himself had no more to give. The people, accustomed to privation, still in some degree bore up, but the knights themselves gave way, and had it not been for the noble firmness of Adhemar, Bishop of Puy, Godfrey, Raimond, Boemond, and Tancred, the whole of the barons would have fled, and left the people to their fate.[376]

The chiefs I have named, however, never ceased their exertions. They bound themselves by the most solemn vows not to abandon each other or the cause they had undertaken; and Tancred, always the first where chivalrous enthusiasm was concerned, pledged himself by oath not to turn back from the road to Jerusalem so long as forty knights would follow his banner. At length superstition came to animate the courage of the soldiery. Visions were seen promising victory to those who endured to the last. The apostles, the saints, and even the Saviour appeared to many of the priests, who took care that their miraculous visitations should be noised abroad.[377]

Whether originating in the policy of the leaders, or in the cunning of the lower order of priests, these supernatural consolations had a prodigious effect upon people who, their reliance on every earthly means being gone, were fain to turn to heaven. Enthusiasm, supported by superstition, proved a most excellent nurse to hope. Activity, energy, resolution, returned; and the wan and ghastly herds demanded loudly to be led against the enemy. One more pious fraud[378] was destined to be committed before the troops were brought to the last resource of an almost hopeless battle. A clerk of Provence, serving under Raimond of Toulouse, sought out the chiefs of the armament, and declared that St. Andrew the Apostle had manifested himself in a vision, and had revealed to him that the lance with which our Saviour’s side was pierced, at the crucifixion, might be found in a certain spot in the church of St. Peter of Antioch. Accompanied by this holy relic the army was directed by the saint to issue forth upon the Saracens with assurances of victory.

The Bishop of Puy,[379] whose religious feelings were of too pure a kind to practise, or even countenance, such cheats, declared that the tale must be false, and several chiefs agreed with him in opinion:[380] but Raimond of Toulouse and others strongly supported the story; and the whole of the leaders soon became convinced that good policy required the lance should be found, a battle seeming the only resource. As no support could be given to the bodies of the emaciated troops, it was as well, also, to stimulate their minds as far as possible.

The lance was therefore sought for in form, and though at first it could not be discovered, because it was not there, it very naturally happened that no sooner did the clerk who had been favoured with the vision descend into the pit,[381] than the iron head was perceived, and brought up to the wonder and edification of the people. The matter being now decided, the hearts of the multitude were all enthusiasm, a great many more almost sacrilegious visions were seen, fasting and prayer, and the ceremonies of the church were used to excite and increase the popular ardour; and, in the end, Peter the Hermit was sent out to the camp of Kerboga,[382] not to offer terms of capitulation, but rather to threaten vengeance, and to bid the Turks depart. The reply of the emir was as contemptuous as might have been expected, and Peter returned with a message that would have somewhat quelled the daring of the crusaders if it had been repeated. This, however, was prevented by Godfrey, and every preparation made for a battle.

The citadel,[383] I have before said, had remained in the hands of the Turks, who had fled thither on the taking of Antioch. Its commanding situation enabled the garrison to see whatever passed in the town; and the governor being strictly enjoined to give due notice to the army of Kerboga of all the Christian movements, on the morning of the 28th of June, A. D. 1098, a black flag,[384] hoisted on the highest tower of that fortress, announced to the besiegers that the Latins were about to march out and attack them.

The army of the Cross presented but a miserable sight; the ghastly hand of famine had wrought horribly on the wan countenances of the soldiery. Of all the fair Chivalry of Europe, whose heavy horses and steel-clad limbs had crushed like the fall of a mountain every thing that opposed them, but two hundred knights appeared mounted as was their wont.[385] Those who could get them were glad to go forth upon mules and asses; some having sold or lost their arms, were furnished with the small shields and scimitars taken from the Turks; and Godfrey of Bouillon himself rode the borrowed horse of the Count of Toulouse, who was left to guard the town. In this state of wretchedness, the crusading army marched out against a splendid force, which, at the beginning of the siege amounted to more than three hundred thousand fighting men, and had every day been increasing.[386] Nevertheless, all was enthusiasm in the Christian ranks. The priests in their pontifical robes,[387] bearing crosses and holy banners, mingled with the soldiers, and, singing hymns of joy, already taught them to anticipate victory. The number of knights going to the fight on foot encouraged the common men by their presence and their example; and, in fact, though destitute of many of the physical means which had given them superiority in former battles, the valour and the self-confidence,[388] which are the soul of victory, were never more present among the Christian warriors.

Kerboga committed the great fault that has lost a thousand battles. He despised his enemy. When first the news was brought to him that the Christians were advancing, he was playing at chess,[389] and hardly rose from his game. It was only the complete route of two thousand men, whom he had stationed to defend the bridge, that convinced him the attack was serious. He thus lost the opportunity of annoying the crusaders as they defiled, and now he found his error and began to tremble for the consequences.