The greatest difficulty was to find money to defray the expenses of the holy war. All whom infirmities or particular circumstances detained in Europe were anxious to assist, by their offerings, the enterprise of the crusade. According to the devotion of the times, the greater part of the rich who died without having seen Jerusalem, left by their will a sum for the promotion of pilgrimages to the East. All these pious gifts were, no doubt, considerable, but they could not suffice for the support of a large army. To procure the necessary money Louis VII. had recourse to loans, and levied imposts, which were regulated and approved of by the sovereign pontiff. St. Bernard and Peter the Venerable had exerted themselves with much courage against the persecution of the Jews; but the abbot of Cluny thought they ought to be punished in that which they held dearest, their wealth, amassed by usury, and even by sacrilege. He advised the king of France to take from the Jews the money necessary for the war against the Saracens. It is probable that the advice of Peter the Venerable was not disdained, and that the Jews furnished a considerable part of the expenses of the crusade. The clergy also, who had so much enriched themselves by the first crusade, were obliged to advance considerable sums for this expedition. The monastery of Fleury alone paid three hundred silver marks and a large sum in gold. In many other abbeys the vases and church ornaments were sold to purchase arms, and to pay the expenses of a war undertaken for the glory of Christ.
The lords and barons followed the example of the king of France. Some pledged or sold their lands, but the greater part made their vassals furnish means for their pilgrimage. The heavy taxes laid upon the people, and particularly the spoliation of the churches, excited many complaints, and began to cool the ardour for the crusade. “There was,”[273] says an ancient historian, “neither state, condition, age, nor sex, which was not forced to contribute to the equipment of the king and the princes going with him; whence followed the discontent of every one, and innumerable maledictions, as well directed against the king as the troops.”
Nevertheless Louis VII. prepared for his undertaking by acts of devotion; he visited the hospitals, and caused prayers to be put up in all the churches for the success of the crusade. When his departure drew near, he went to St. Denis, to take the famous Oriflamme, which was borne before the kings of France in battle. The church of St. Denis was at that time decorated with great magnificence; among the historical monuments which were there collected, the portraits of Godfrey de Bouillon, Tancred, Raymond de St. Gilles, and the battles of Dorylæum, Antioch, and Ascalon,[274] traced upon the windows of the choir, must have attracted the eyes and fixed the attention of Louis and his companions in arms. The king, prostrated on the tomb of the holy apostle of France, implored his protection and that of his pious ancestors, whose ashes reposed in the same place. The pope, who had come to St. Denis, placed anew the kingdom of France under the safeguard of religion, and presented to Louis VII. his scrip and staff, as the emblems of his pilgrimage. After this ceremony Louis set out, accompanied by Queen Eleanor and a great part of his court. He wept while he embraced Abbot Suger, who could not himself restrain his tears. The people, says a modern historian, who crowded his passage, after having followed him for a long distance with the most vociferous applauses, returned in melancholy silence to their homes as soon as he was out of sight. He left Metz at the head of a hundred thousand Crusaders, traversed Germany, and directed his march towards Constantinople, where he had appointed to meet the emperor of the West.
The emperor Conrad, after having caused his son Henry to be crowned, left Ratisbon in the beginning of spring. He was followed by an army so numerous, that, according to the report of Otho, of Frisingen, the waves were not sufficient to transport it, nor the fields spacious enough to contain all its battalions. He had sent ambassadors to announce his coming to Constantinople, and to demand permission to cross the territories of the Greek empire. Manuel Comnenus returned him a most friendly and flattering answer; but when the Germans arrived in Bulgaria and Thrace, they were not long in perceiving that they must not reckon upon the promises that had been made them.
At the time of the first crusade, Constantinople was in great dread of the Turks, which was of service to the Franks; but from that period the capital of the Greeks had experienced no alarms, and no longer feared the attacks of the Mussulmans. An opinion likewise had spread through all the provinces of the empire, that the warriors of the West entertained the project of taking possession of Constantinople. This report, probable in itself, and strengthened by the threats of the Crusaders, was very little calculated to reëstablish peace and harmony between people who despised each other reciprocally, and, perhaps with equal reason, exchanged accusations of violations of the faith of treaties.
Manuel Comnenus, whom Odo de Deuil will not even name, because, he says, his name is not written in the book of life, was the grandson of Alexius I., who reigned at the time of the first crusade. Faithful to the policy of his ancestor, more able, and above all more artful and hypocritical than he, he neglected no means to annoy and ruin the army of the Germans. In his councils the warriors of the West were considered as men of iron, whose eyes darted flames, and who shed torrents of blood with the same indifference as they would pour out the same quantity of water. At the same time that he sent them ambassadors, and furnished them with provisions, Manuel formed an alliance with the Turks, and fortified his capital. The Germans, in the course of their march, had often to repulse the perfidious attacks of the Greeks, and the latter had, more than once, cause to complain of the violence of the Crusaders. A relation of Conrad, who had remained sick in a monastery at Adrianople, was slain by the soldiers of Manuel; Frederick, duke of Suabia, gave the monastery in which this crime had been committed, up to the flames; and torrents of blood flowed to avenge an assassination.
Upon approaching Constantinople, the Germans had set up their tents in a rich valley watered by the river Melas. All at once a violent storm burst over the neighbouring mountains; the river, increased by the torrents, inundated the plain where the Christian army was celebrating the feast of the Assumption,[275] and as if it had conspired with the Greeks, says a French historian, and as if it imitated their perfidy and treason, it carried away the horses and baggage, and brought desolation into the camp of the Crusaders. The Greeks afforded some succour to the German soldiers, but they saw with joy, in an event they affected to deplore, a presage of the defeats which threatened the armies of the Latins.
Constantinople, on the arrival of Conrad, presented the novel spectacle of two emperors who had inherited the wrecks of the empire of Augustus, and each of whom called himself the successor of Cæsar and Constantine. Their pretensions created some divisions; the emperor of the West had a valiant army to support his rights; he of the East did not dare to insist too openly upon his. He called in perfidy to his aid, and wounded vanity avenged itself in a manner as cowardly as it was cruel.
As soon as the Germans had passed the Bosphorus, they found themselves exposed to all sorts of treachery. All who straggled from the army were slain by the soldiers of Comnenus; the gates of all the cities on their route were closed; when they asked for provisions, they were obliged to put the money into the baskets which were lowered down from the walls, and after all, they frequently obtained nothing but insult and ridicule. The Greeks mixed lime with the flour they sold them; and when the Crusaders had anything for sale, they where paid in a false coin, which was refused when they became purchasers. Ambuscades awaited them throughout their route; the enemy was aware of their line of march, and as the height of perfidy, furnished them at Constantinople with faithless guides, who misled the army in the defiles of Mount Taurus, and delivered them up, worn out with fatigue, to famine and despair, or to the swords of the Mussulmans. The Germans, ill-treated by the Greeks, did not seek to revenge themselves, although it would have been easy to have done so, and, according to the ideas of the age, might have appeared glorious. This is the reason why Montesquieu says, that the Germans were the best sort of people in the world. The French, who came after them, showed themselves less patient, and were more respected. The emperor sent the principal lords of his court to the king of France, before whom they prostrated themselves, and only spoke to him on their knees. French haughtiness was more surprised than pleased at such homage, and only answered the flattery of the East by a disdainful silence. The two monarchs had an interview, in which they reciprocated the most tender caresses, and sought to surpass each other in magnificence. If Manuel on this occasion excelled his rival in the display of his riches, he showed less sincerity than Louis in the demonstrations of his friendship, for in the midst of the banquets which he gave to the Crusaders, the latter learnt that he preserved a close alliance with the sultan of Iconium, and that the Turks were fully informed of the plans of the French king.