Palestine continued to acknowledge the power of the emperor until the rise of Islamism changed the face of Western Asia. The armies of the califs, which wrested from Persia the dominion of the surrounding nations, conquered in succession the provinces of Arabia, Syria, and Egypt, and at length planted the crescent on the walls of Jerusalem. The victories of Omar in 636 decided the fate of the venerable city, and laid the foundations of a mosque on the sacred hill where the Temple of Solomon had stood. This conqueror was assassinated at Jerusalem in 643; after which, the establishment of several califates in Arabia and Syria, the fall of the Ommiades, and the elevation of the Abassides involved Judea in trouble for more than two hundred years. In 868, Achmet, a Turk, who from being governor had made himself sovereign of Egypt, conquered the capital of Palestine; but his son having been defeated by the califs of Bagdad; the holy city again returned under their dominion in the year 905 of our era. Mohammed Ikschid, another Turk, about thirty years after, having in his turn seized the throne of the Pharaohs, carried his arms into Palestine, and reduced the capital. The Fatimites, again, issuing from the sands of Cyrene, expelled the Ikschidites from Egypt in 968, and conquered several towns in Judea. Ortok, towards the end of the tenth century, made himself master of the holy city, whence his children were for a time driven out by Mostali, Calif of Egypt. In 1076, Meleschah, the third of the Turkish race, took Jerusalem, and ravaged the whole country. The Ortokides, who, as we have just related, were dispossessed by Mostali, returned thither, and maintained themselves in it against Redouan, Prince of Aleppo. They were expelled once more by the Fatimites, who were masters of the place when the crusaders first appeared on the confines of Syria.
Several generations passed away, during which the affairs of the Holy Land created no interest in Europe, and when Christians and Jews, who could hardly obtain the most limited toleration from their Mohammedan masters, sought an asylum among the states of Europe. In the Travels of Benjamin of Tudela are to be found some incidental notices which leave no doubt as to the fact that his countrymen, unable to bear the persecution directed against them, had gradually abandoned the birthplace of their fathers. Jerusalem, in the twelfth century, did not contain more than two hundred descendants of Abraham, poor, depressed, and calumniated; while at Tiberias, the seat of learning and of their sovereign patriarch, the number did not exceed fifty,—the victims of suspicion and jealousy, not less on the part of the Christians than of the Moslem, who had already begun to contend with each other for the sepulchre of Christ.
It has often been observed, that pilgrimage to the holy places of Palestine was from a very early period regarded as at once a wholesome discipline and an acceptable reverence on the part of Christian worshippers. The Arabian califs were, on various accounts, inclined to favour the resort of Europeans to these shrines of their faith. They saw in it a fruitful source of revenue; while, as the progeny of Abraham, they were not disposed to take offence at the veneration lavished upon the prophetic son of David, whose tomb the fortune of war had placed in their hands. But the Seljukian Turks, those irreclaimable barbarians, who had no sympathy with the believers in Christ, laid on them such burdens and vexatious restraints as were altogether intolerable. The cries of the unhappy pilgrims had long resounded throughout all Christendom; and the indignation which was universally felt against the bigoted Mussulmans was inflamed in no slight degree by the eloquence of Peter the Hermit, who had witnessed in foreign lands the afflictions of his brethren. Yielding to the impulse of the age, Pope Urban the Second convoked a general council at Clermont, in Auvergne, to whom he addressed an oration well fitted to confirm the enthusiasm which he found already kindled. He encouraged them to attack the enemies of God, and in that holy warfare to earn the reward of eternal life promised to all the faithful servants of the Redeemer; suggesting, that as a mark of their profession as well as of their Saviour's love, they should wear red crosses on their garments when fighting the battles of Christianity.
The warlike spirit of the time was roused by every motive which can touch the heart of man in a rude state of society,—the love of glory, religion, revenge, and enterprise. Many of the most illustrious princes of the Christian world took up the cross, and were followed by persons of both sexes, and of all ages, classes, and professions. A vast army poured in from every country, under the most distinguished leaders, of whom the principal were, Godfrey, Duke of Brabant and Bouillon; Robert of France, the brother of King Philip; and Robert, Duke of Normandy, the son of the English monarch. Bohemond, too, the chief of the Normans of Apulia, and Raymond, Count of Toulouse, led many renowned warriors to Syria.
The tumultuary bands who marched under the standard of the Hermit suffered hardships altogether unknown to modern war. In passing through the countries watered by the Danube, and the hilly countries which lie between that river and the Mediterranean, more than half their number fell victims to disease, famine, and the rage of the barbarians whose lands they infested. But, in spite of these misfortunes, Bohemond, one of the leaders, laid siege to Antioch in 1097; and on the 15th July, two years after, the ancient and holy city of Jerusalem was taken by assault, with a prodigious slaughter of the garrison. Ten thousand Mohammedans were slain on the site of the Temple of Solomon; a greater number was thrown from the tops of houses; and a fearful carnage was committed after all resistance had ceased.
The siege had lasted two months with various success, and a considerable loss of life on either aide; and hence arose the savage ferocity which disgraced, on the part of the victors, the last scene of this miserable tragedy. The assailants having endured much from drought, as well as from the sword of the enemy, betook themselves to pious exercises in order to avert the anger of Heaven. The soldiers, completely armed, made a holy procession round the walls. The clergy, with naked feet, and bearing images of the cross, led them in the sacred way. Cries of Deus id vult,—God commands it,—rent the air; and the people marched to the melody of hymns and psalms, and not to the sound of drums and trumpets. On Mount Olivet and Mount Zion they prayed for assistance in the approaching conflict. The Saracens mocked these expressions of religious feeling, by throwing mud upon crucifixes which they raised for the purpose; but these insults had only the effect of producing louder shouts of sacred joy from the Christians. The next morning every thing was prepared for battle; and there was no one who was not ready either to die for Christ, or restore his city to liberty. The night was spent in watching an alarm by both armies. At dawn of day the conflict began which was to determine the fate of the great European expedition, and when noon arrived the issue was still in suspense, or seemed rather to incline in favour of the Mohammedans. The cause of the Western World appeared to totter on the brink of destruction, and the most valiant among the crusaders allowed themselves to fear that Heaven had deserted its own cause and people.[169]
At the moment when all was considered lost, a knight was seen on Mount Olivet, waving his glittering shield as a sign to the soldiers that they should rally and return to the charge. Godfrey and Eustace cried aloud to the army, that St. George was come to their succour. The spirit of enthusiasm instantly revived, fatigue and pain were no longer felt, the princes led their columns to the breach, and even the women insisted upon sharing the honours of the fight. In the space of an hour the barbacan was broken down, and Godfrey's tower rested against the inner wall. Exchanging the duties of a general for those of a soldier, the Duke of Lorraine fought with his bow: "The Lord guided his hand, and all his arrows pierced the enemy through and through." Near him were Eustace and Baldwin, "like two lions beside another lion." At three o'clock, the hour when the Saviour of the world was crucified, a soldier, named Letoldus of Tourney, leaped upon the fortifications; his brother, Engelbert, followed, and Godfrey was the third Christian who stood as a conqueror upon the ramparts of Jerusalem. The glorious ensign of the Cross streamed from the walls, and the whole city was soon at the mercy of the besiegers. The Mussulmans fought for a while, then fled to their temples, and submitted their necks to the sword. The victors, in a document which is still preserved, boasted, that in the mosque of Omar, whither they pursued the fugitives, they rode in the blood of Saracens up to the knees of their horses.
After the slaughter had terminated, and the soldiers had soothed their minds by certain acts of devotion, the expediency of forming a regular government became manifest to all parties. Godfrey, a hero whose name can not be too highly honoured, was chosen by the unanimous suffrages of rival warriors to be the first Christian king of Jerusalem. Bohemond, the son of Robert Guiscard, reigned at Antioch; Baldwin, the brother of Godfrey, at Edessa; and the Count of Toulouse, at Tripoli. The dominion of the crusaders extended from the confines of Egypt to the Euphrates on the east, and to the acclivities of Mount Taurus on the north; and several of their principalities lasted nearly two hundred years.
Many attempts have been made to defend the policy and excuse the enormities of the Christian warriors in their enterprise against the Moslem occupants of the Holy Land. These two points ought to be more carefully distinguished than they usually are, whether in the pages of friends or enemies; for while the general expediency of a combination of the Christian powers may be supported on good grounds, the cruelty of some of their measures deserves the severest censure. It is remarked by Mr. Mills, that the massacre of the Saracens on the capture of the holy city did not proceed alone from the inflamed passions of victorious soldiers, but from remorseless fanaticism. Benevolence to Turks, Jews, infidels, and heretics made no part of Christian ethics in those rude times; and as the Moslem in their consciences believed it was the will of Heaven that the religion of their prophet should be propagated by the sword, so their antagonists laboured under the mental delusion that they themselves were the ministers of God's wrath on a disobedient and stiff-necked people. The Latins, on the day after the victory, massacred three hundred men, to whom Tancred and Gaston de Bearn had promised protection, and even given a standard as a pledge of safety. But every engagement was broken, in consequence of the resolution that no pity should be shown to the Mohammedans,—an expedient which was justified by the opinion now prevalent among the invaders, that in conjunction with the Saracens of Egypt they might again reduce the city and recover all the ground they had lost. It was for this reason that the inhabitants of Jerusalem, armed and unarmed, were dragged forth into the public squares, and slain like cattle. Women with children at the breast, boys, and even girls were slaughtered indiscriminately, and in such numbers that the streets were covered with dead bodies and mangled limbs. No heart melted into compassion or expanded into benevolence. The stones of the city were ordered to be washed, and the melancholy task was performed by some Moslem slaves. The Count of Toulouse, whose avarice prevailed over his superstition, was loudly condemned for accepting a ransom from a few of the devoted prisoners, whom he sent in safety to Ascalon. So unrelenting, in short, was the passion of revenge among the crusaders, that they set fire to the synagogues of the Jews, many of whom perished in the flames.[170]
Such conduct merits the deepest execration that moralist or statesman may be pleased to pour upon it. We are nevertheless convinced that, in the peculiar circumstances of the Christian world when Peter the Hermit called its chiefs to arms, a united war against the Mohammedan states of Syria was dictated by the soundest political wisdom. The subjects of Omar had already conquered an establishment in Sicily and Spain, and attempted the subjugation of France. Their views were directed towards universal dominion in the West, as well as in the East; they hoped to witness the triumph of the crescent in Europe not less certainly than in Asia, and to be able to impose a tribute on the worshippers of Christ, or compel them to relinquish their creed on the remotest shores of the Atlantic. Those, therefore, who perceive in the Crusades nothing but a mob of armed pilgrims running to rescue a tomb in Palestine must take a very limited view of history. The point in question was not merely the recovery of that sacred building from the hands of infidels, but rather to decide which of the two religions, the Christian or Mohammedan, should predominate in the world; the one hostile to civilization, and only favourable to ignorance, despotism, and slavery; the other friendly to improvement, learning, and freedom in all ranks and conditions of society.