And yet, amidst their conflicts or their misfortunes, the Christians continued to show the most heroic bravery and resignation; they endured hunger, thirst, and fatigue without a complaint, and neither deserts, rivers, precipices, the heat of the climate, nor any other obstacle, could stop them in their incursions. In every kind of peril they sought all opportunities of proving their strength and skill, or of signalizing their valour. Sometimes in the forests or mountains they encountered savage animals. A French knight, named Guicher, rendered himself celebrated in the army by overcoming a lion. Another knight, Geoffrey de la Tour, gained great renown by an action which doubtless will appear incredible. He one day saw in a forest a lion which a serpent held within its monstrous folds, and which made the air resound with his roaring. Geoffrey flew to the assistance of the animal, which appeared to implore his pity, and with one blow of his sword killed the serpent, which was intent upon its prey. If we may believe an old chronicle, the lion thus delivered attached himself to his liberator as to a master; he accompanied him during the war, and when, after the taking of Jerusalem, the Crusaders embarked to return into Europe, he was drowned in the sea whilst following the vessel in which Geoffrey was.[135]
Several Crusaders, whilst waiting for the signal of departure for Jerusalem, went to visit their brethren who had established themselves in the conquered cities. Many of them repaired to Baldwin, and joined with him in contending against the Saracens of Mesopotamia. A knight, named Foulque, who went with several of his companions to seek adventures on the banks of the Euphrates, was surprised and massacred by the Turks. His wife, whom he had taken with him, was brought before the emir of Hazart or Hezas. Being of rare beauty, one of the principal officers of the emir fell in love with her,[136] and asked her of his master in marriage, who yielded her to him, and permitted him to espouse her. This officer, deeply in love with a Christian woman, avoided all occasions of fighting against the Crusaders, and yet, zealous in the service of his master the emir, made incursions into the territories of the sultan of Aleppo. Redowan, wishing to avenge himself, marched with an army of forty thousand men to attack the city of Hezas. Then the officer who had married the widow of Foulque advised the emir to implore the assistance of the Christians.
The emir proposed an alliance to Godfrey de Bouillon. Godfrey at first hesitated, but the Mussulman returned to the charge, and to disperse all the suspicions of the Christian princes, sent them his son Mahomet as an hostage. The treaty was then signed, and two pigeons, says a Latin historian, charged with a letter, brought the news to the emir, at the same time announcing to him the early arrival of the Christians.[137] The army of the sultan of Aleppo was beaten in several encounters by Godfrey, and forced to abandon the territory of Hezas, that it had begun to pillage. A short time after this expedition the son of the emir died at Antioch of the epidemic so fatal to the pilgrims of the West. Godfrey, according to the custom of the Mussulmans, had the body of the young prince enveloped in rich purple stuff, and sent it to his father. The deputies who accompanied this funeral convoy were ordered to express to the emir the regrets of Godfrey, and to tell him that their leader had been as much afflicted by the death of the young prince Mahomet, as he could have been by that of his brother Baldwin. The emir of Hezas wept for the death of his son, and never ceased to be the faithful ally of the Christians.
The leaders of the crusades still thought no more about setting forward on their march to Jerusalem, and the autumn advanced without their being engaged in any expedition of importance. In the midst of the idleness of the camps, a celestial phenomenon offered itself to the eyes of the Crusaders, and made a lively impression upon the minds of the multitude. The soldiers who guarded the ramparts of Antioch saw during the night a luminous mass, which appeared to be fixed in an elevated point of the heavens. It seemed as if all the stars, according to the expression o£ Albert d’Aix, were united in a space scarcely more extensive than a garden of three acres. “These stars,” says the same historian, “shed the most brilliant light,[138] and shone like coals in a furnace.” They appeared for a long time as if suspended over the city of Antioch; but the circle which seemed to contain them being broken, they dispersed in the air. At the sight of this prodigy, the guards and sentinels uttered loud cries, and ran to awaken the citizens of Antioch. All the pilgrims issued from their houses, and found in this phenomenon a manifest sign of the will of Heaven. Some believed they saw in the united stars an image of the Saracens, who were assembled at Jerusalem, and who would be dispersed at the approach of the Christians; others, equally full of hope, saw in them the Christian warriors uniting their victorious forces, and then spreading themselves over the earth to conquer the cities ravished from the empire of Christ; but many of the pilgrims did not abandon themselves to these consolatory illusions. In a city where the people had much to suffer, and had dwelt during many months amidst death and its funeral rites, the future naturally presented itself under the most sad and disheartening colours. All who suffered, and had lost the hope of ever seeing Jerusalem, saw nothing in the phenomenon presented to their eyes but an alarming symbol of the multitude of pilgrims, which was every day diminishing, and which promised soon to be entirely dispersed, like the luminous clouds which they had seen in the heavens. “Things, however,” says Albert d’Aix, “turned out much better than was expected; for, a short time afterwards, the princes, on their return to Antioch, took the field, and brought under their dominion several cities of Upper Syria.”
The most important of their expeditions was the siege and capture of Maarah, situated between Hamath and Aleppo. Raymond was the first to sit himself down before this city, where he was soon joined by the duke of Normandy and the count of Flanders and their troops. The Christians met with the most obstinate resistance from the besieged during several days. The infidels poured arrows and stones upon them in clouds, together with floods of an inflammable matter, which several historians pretend to have been the Greek fire. William of Tyre says that they hurled from the summits of the towers upon the assailants quick lime and hives filled with bees.[139] Want of provisions soon began to be felt, and the Crusaders at length experienced such distress, that many among them subsisted upon the dead bodies of their enemies.[140] History ought, however, to relate with hesitation the extremes to which famine is said to have carried them, and to throw great doubt upon the account of the public sale of human flesh in the camp of the Christians.[141]
The Crusaders endured all their misfortunes with patience, but they could not support the outrages committed by the inhabitants of Maarah upon the religion of Jesus Christ. The infidels raised crosses upon the ramparts, covered them with ordure, and heaped all sorts of insults upon them. This sight so irritated the Christians, that they resolved to redouble their efforts to get possession of the city. They constructed machines which shook the walls, whilst the soldiers mounted to the assault; and they succeeded, after a lengthened resistance, in making themselves masters of the towers and the ramparts. As they were overtaken by night in the midst of their victory, they did not venture to penetrate into the place; and when, with the break of day, they spread themselves through the streets, not a sound was to be heard,—every part of the city was deserted. The army pillaged the uninhabited houses, but soon discovered, to their great surprise, that the whole population of Maarah had taken refuge in subterranean places. A large quantity of straw, set on fire at the mouths of the caverns in which the infidels were concealed, soon forced them to issue from their retreats, and such was the animosity of the conquerors, that the bewildered and trembling multitude implored their pity in vain. All the inhabitants of Maarah were either put to the sword or led into slavery; the city was completely razed to the ground, “which so terrified the neighbouring cities,” says an historian, “that of their own free will, and without force, they surrendered to the Crusaders.”
This conquest became the subject of fresh discord. Bohemond, who had come to the siege, was desirous of keeping a portion of the city, whilst Raymond pretended to reign over Maarah as its sovereign. The debate grew warm; the camp of the Christians was filled with confusion and factions, and the Crusaders were very near shedding their own blood to ascertain who should be master of a city which they had just entirely deprived of inhabitants, and given up to pillage. “But God, who was the leader of this great enterprise,” says le Père Maimbourg, “repaired by the zeal of the weak and the lowly that which the passions of the great and the wise of this world had destroyed.” The soldiers at length became indignant at the thoughts of shedding, for miserable quarrels, the blood which they had sworn to dedicate to a sacred cause. Whilst they were most loud in their complaints and murmurs, the report reached them that Jerusalem had fallen into the hands of the Egyptians: they had taken advantage of the defeat of the Turks, and of the unfortunate delay of the Christian army in their invasion of Palestine. This news redoubled the discontent of the Crusaders, and they loudly accused Raymond and their other leaders of having betrayed the cause of God. They announced their intention of choosing fresh leaders, who should have no other ambition but that of accomplishing their vows, and would conduct the Christian army to the Holy Land.
The count of St. Gilles and the prince of Antioch, the latter of whom was, perhaps, no stranger to the general movement, went through the ranks, and addressed the soldiers, the one upon the necessity of obedience, the other upon the glory which awaited them at Jerusalem. The tumult soon became more violent. The clergy menaced Raymond with the anger of Heaven, whilst his soldiers threatened to abandon his standard. The Provençals themselves at length refused to obey the inflexible count of Thoulouse, and the army set seriously to work to demolish the ramparts of Maarah, the possession of which was the object of contention.
Whilst this was going on, Tancred had, by either force or address, got possession of the citadel of Antioch, and planted the standard of Bohemond in place of that of the count of St. Gilles. Raymond, thus left alone, and without any hopes of realizing his pretensions, was obliged to yield to the wishes of the army, and appeared to listen to the voice of God. After having set fire to the city of Maarah, he marched out of it by the light of the flames, barefooted, and shedding tears of repentance. Followed by the clergy, who sang the psalms of penitence, he abjured his ambition, and renewed the oath he had so often made, and so often forgotten, of delivering the tomb of Jesus Christ.