Jerusalem, the City of Herod and Saladin

by Walter Besant; Edward Henry Palmer

Robert of Flanders, in this important council, was the first to speak. He called upon his peers, setting aside all jealousies and ambitions, to elect from their own body one who might be found to unite the best valour of a knight with the best virtue of a Christian. And in a noble speech which has been preserved—if, indeed, it was not written long after the time—he disclaimed, for his own part, any desire to canvass their votes, or to become the king of Jerusalem. “I entreat you to receive my counsel as I give it you, with affection, frankness, and loyalty; and to elect for king him who, by his own worth, will best be able to preserve and extend this kingdom, to which are attached the honour of your arms, and the cause of Jesus Christ.”

Many had begun to think of offering the crown to Robert himself. But this was not his wish; and among the rest their choice clearly lay between Godfrey, Robert of Normandy, Raymond of Toulouse, and Tancred. Of these, Tancred and Robert were men ambitious of glory rather than of honours. The latter had thrown away the crown of England once, and was going to throw it away again. With equal readiness he threw away the crown of Jerusalem. Raymond, who had sworn never to return to Europe, was old and unpopular, probably from the absence of the princely munificence and affability that distinguished Godfrey, perhaps also from lack of those personal charms which his rival possessed. To be handsome as well as brave was given to Godfrey, but if it had ever been given to Raymond, his day of comeliness was past. A sort of committee of ten was appointed, whose business it was to examine closely into the private character of the chiefs, as well as into their prowess. History is prudently silent as to the reports made on the characters of the rest, but we know what was said about Godfrey. Though the Provençal party invented calumnies against him, his own servants were explicit and clear in their evidence. Nothing whatever could be set down against him. Pure and unsullied in his private life, he came out of this ordeal with no other accusation against him, by those who were with him at all hours of the day and night, but one, and that the most singular complaint ever brought against a prince by his servants. They stated that in all the private acts of the duke, the one which they found most vexatious (absonum) was that when he went into a church he could not be got out of it, even after the celebration of service; but he was used to stay behind and inquire of the priests and those who seemed to have any knowledge of the matter, about the meaning and history of each picture and image: his companions, being otherwise minded, were affected with continual tedium and even disgust at this conduct, which was certainly thoughtless, because the meals, cooked, of course, in readiness for a certain hour, were often, owing to this exasperating delay, served up cold and tasteless. There is a touch of humour in the grave way in which this charge is brought forward by the historian, who evidently enjoys the picture of Godfrey’s followers standing by and waiting, while their faces grow longer as they think of the roast, which is certain to be either cold or overdone.

No one was astonished, and most men rejoiced, when the electors declared that their choice had fallen upon Godfrey. They conducted him in solemn procession to the Church of the Sepulchre with hymns and psalms. Here he took an oath to respect the laws of justice, but when the coronation should have taken place, Godfrey put away the crown. He would not wear a crown of gold when his Lord had worn a crown of thorns. Nor would he take the title of king. Of this, he said he was not worthy. Let them call him the Baron of the Holy Sepulchre. He never wore the crown, but the voice of posterity has always given him the name of king.

Godfrey of Lorraine, born at Boulogne in the year 1058, or thereabouts, was the son of Count Eustace, and the nephew of the Duke of Lorraine. His brother Baldwin, who came with him as far as Asia Minor, but separated then from the Crusaders and gained the principality of Edessa, was the second son. Eustace, who afterwards became Count of Boulogne, was the third. And his sister, Matilda, was the wife of our king Stephen.

The story of Godfrey, who is the real hero of the First Crusade, is made up of facts, visions, and legends. Let us tell them altogether.

At an early age he was once playing with his two brothers, when his father entered the room. At that moment the children were all hiding in the folds of their mother’s dress. Count Eustace, seeing the dress shaken, asked who was behind it, “There,” replied the Lady Ida, in the spirit of prophecy, “are three great princes. The first shall be a duke, the second a king, and the third a count,” a prediction which was afterwards exactly fulfilled. Unfortunately, no record exists of this prophecy till nearly a hundred years after it was made. Godfrey was adopted by his uncle, the Duke of Lorraine, and, at the age of sixteen, joined the fortunes of the emperor Henry IV. He fought in all the campaigns of that unquiet sovereign; he it was who, at the battle of Malsen, carried the Imperial banner, and signalized himself by killing Rudolph of Swabia with his own hand. He was present when, after three years’ siege, Henry succeeded in wresting Rome from Hildebrand in 1083, and in reward for his bravery on that occasion, he received the duchy of Lorraine when it was forfeited by the defection of Conrad. An illness, some time after, caused him to vow a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and until the Crusade started Godfrey had no rest or peace.

During this period of expectation, a vision, related by Albert of Aix, came to one of his servants. He saw, like Jacob, a ladder which was all pure gold, ascending from earth to heaven. Godfrey, followed by his servant Rothard, was mounting this ladder. Rothard had a lamp in his hand; in the middle of the ascent the lamp went out suddenly. Dismayed at this accident, Rothard came down the ladder, and declined to relight his lamp or to climb up again. Godfrey, however, undaunted, went on. Then the seer of the vision himself took the lamp and followed his master; both arrived safely at the top, and there, which was no other place than Heaven itself, they enjoyed the favours of God. The ladder was of pure gold, to signify that pilgrims must have pure hearts, and the gate to which it led was Jerusalem, the gate of heaven. Rothard, whose light went out half way, who came down in despair, was an image of those pilgrims who take the Cross but come back again in despair; and he who saw the vision and went up with Godfrey typified those Crusaders, a faithful few, who endured unto the end.

Stories are told to illustrate the prowess of this great and strong man. On one occasion, when he was compelled to defend his rights to some land by the ordeal of battle, his sword broke off short upon the buckler of his adversary, leaving him not more than six inches of steel. The knights present at the duel interposed in order to stop a combat so unequal, but Godfrey himself insisted on going on. His adversary pressed him with all his skill and strength, but Godfrey, collecting all his force, sprang upon and literally felled him to the ground. Then taking his sword from him, he broke it across his knee, and called upon the president of the duel to make such terms as would spare his enemy’s life.

Again, a noble Arab, desirous of seeing so great a warrior, paid him a visit, and asked him, as a special favour, to strike a camel with his sword. Godfrey, at a single blow, struck off the head of the beast. The Arab begged to speak apart with him, thinking it was the effect of magic, and asked him if he would do the same thing with another sword. “Lend me your own,” said Godfrey, and repeated the feat with his guest’s own sword.

At the time of his election, Godfrey was in the fulness of his strength and vigour, about forty years of age. He was tall, but not above the stature of ordinarily tall men; his countenance was handsome and attractive; and his beard and hair were a reddish brown. In manners he was courteous, and in living, simple and unostentatious. The first king of Christian Jerusalem, the only one of all the Crusaders whose life was pure, whose motives were disinterested, whose end and aim was the glory of God, was also the only king who came near the standard set up by Robert of Flanders, as one who should be foremost in virtue as well as in arms. The kingdom over which he ruled was a kingdom without frontiers, save those which the sword had made. Right and left of the path of the Crusaders, between Cæsarea and Jerusalem, the Saracens had fallen back in terror of the advancing army. The space left free was all that Godfrey could call his own. To the north, Bohemond held Antioch, Baldwin, Edessa, and Tancred was soon to occupy Galilee. Egypt threatened in the south, wild Bedawín in the east, and on the north and north-west were gathering, disorganized as yet, but soon to assume the form of armies, the fanatic Mohammedans, maddened by their loss. It must be remembered that during the whole eighty years of its existence the kingdom of Jerusalem was never for one single moment free from war and war’s alarms.