Jerusalem, the City of Herod and Saladin

by Walter Besant; Edward Henry Palmer

“‘Whoever thou art,’ said the count, ‘have pity on me; do not, I pray, make known my misfortune to my enemies; lead me into some place where I may be in safety.... I am a fugitive and a wanderer.... Tell me what property thou hast in this place, and what is its value; and I will give thee property of far more worth in my own dominion.’

“‘Seigneur, I ask nothing,’ replied the other. ‘I will lead thee safe and sound where thou wishest to go; once thou didst deprive thyself of bread to make me eat. It is now my turn. I have a wife, an only daughter of tender years, an ass, two brothers, and two oxen. I will go with thee and carry everything away. I have also a pig, which I will bring here immediately.’

“‘Nay, my brother,’ said the count, ‘a whole pig may not be eaten in a single meal, and we must not excite suspicions.’”

The peasant went away, and presently returned with all his family—though, curiously enough, Foulcher says nothing at all about his wife. Perhaps she was left behind, like Creusa. The count mounts the ass, takes the child in his arms, and they start. On the road the child began to cry, and “to torment the count with its wailing.” He did not know how to appease it; “for Jocelyn had never learned the art of soothing infants by caresses;” he began at first to think of throwing away the baby, or of leaving it by the wayside, and so getting rid of a travelling companion who might bring them all to grief; but “perceiving that this project did not please the peasant, and fearing to afflict him,” he continued, with the greatest consideration, to endure “this new trouble,” till they arrived at his castle at Turbessel, where there was great rejoicing. Can there be a quainter figure than this of the count mounted on the ass, carrying the squalling baby, and divided between rage at its screams and gratitude to the peasant, his deliverer?

Meantime, the king was not prospering. Balak, in a rage that one of his enemies had escaped him, hastened himself to the castle of Khortbert with so large an army as to deprive Baldwin of any hope of success. The fort was built on a chalk hill easy to cut into. Balak sent sappers, who made excavations under the principal tower, and then filling the cavern with wood, he set fire to it. When the wood was consumed the chalk was softened and the tower came down with a crash. Then Baldwin, against his will, surrendered unconditionally. Life was granted to him, to Galeran, and to the king’s nephew. But the poor faithful Armenians, the cause of Jocelyn’s escape and the massacre of the garrison, were treated with the most cruel inhumanity. All were murdered, most by tortures of the most horrid description, of which sawing in halves and roasting alive, being buried alive, and being set up naked as marks for children to fire arrows at, are given as a few specimens. Jocelyn, who had been hastily collecting an army, gave up the design of a rescue in despair, and went to Jerusalem.

And then the Egyptians made a formidable incursion. This time things looked desperate indeed. A rigorous fast was ordered. Even the babes at the breast were denied their mothers’ milk, and the very cattle were driven off their pastures, as if the sight of the sufferings of these helpless creatures would incline the Lord to pity. At least, it inclined the Christians to fury. They issued from Jerusalem to the sound of the great bell, under Eustace Garnier, the Regent, to the number of three thousand combatants only. With them was carried the wood of the true Cross, the Holy Lance, and a vase containing some of the milk of the Blessed Virgin. Again the Christians were victorious, and the army of the enemy fled in panic behind the walls of Ascalon. But the Christians could only act on the defensive. There was not only no chance of extending their dominions, but even only a slender one of keeping them. Relief came, in the shape of a great Venetian fleet.

The Venetians had held serious counsel as to whether they should go on with their old traffic with the Mohammedans, by which they had enriched themselves, or should imitate the example of their rivals, the Genoese, and make money out of the Christians in Palestine. They decided on the latter course, and fitted out a strong and well-armed fleet. On the way they fought two victorious battles, one with their rivals, the Genoese, returning laden with the proceeds of the season’s trade, whom they stripped, and one with the Egyptian fleet, which they cut to pieces. This accomplished, they arrived off Palestine, and offered to make terms for assistance in the year’s campaign. Their terms, like those of the Genoese, were hard. They were to have, if a town was taken, a church, a street, an oven, and a tribunal of their own. Of course these were acceded to. To find money to pay the knights, the Regent had to take all the vessels and ornaments of the churches and melt them down.

Of all the towns on the coast between Antioch and Ascalon, only two remained in the hands of the Mohammedans. But these two were of the greatest importance. For while Tyre remained a Saracen city it could be made the centre of operations against the principality of Antioch on the north and the Kingdom of Palestine on the south; while if Ascalon were taken the Egyptians would be deprived of their means of attack, and would be obliged to invade the country through the desert. Opinions were so much divided on the matter that it was decided to refer the decision to lot, and a child, an orphan, was selected to take from the altar one of two pieces of paper, containing the names of the two towns. The lot fell on Tyre, and Eustace Garnier marched northwards, with all the troops that he could raise.

About this point William of Tyre, who has been gradually passing from the vague hearsay history of events, which happened while he was a child, to a clear and detailed narrative of events of which he was either a spectator or a contemporary, becomes more and more interesting. We cannot afford the space, nor does it fall within the limits of this volume, to give more than the leading incidents in the fortunes of the provinces of the Christian kingdom. We cannot, therefore, linger over the details of this siege, of the greatest importance to the safety of the Christians. The town belonged to the Caliph of Egypt, who held two-thirds of it, and to the Emir, or King, of Damascus, who owned the rest. The Christian army, demoralized by the absence of the king, and disheartened by the reverses which of late had attended their efforts, began badly. They murmured at the hardships and continual fighting they had to undergo, nor would they have persisted in the siege but for two things, the presence of the Venetians, which stimulated their ardour, and the joyful news that the formidable Balak was dead. He was killed by Jocelyn himself, who ran him through with his sword and then cut off his head without knowing who was his adversary. Thus Balak’s dream, says the Christian historian, was in a manner fulfilled, though the Arabs, not having a dream to accomplish, tell the story of his death in another way.

The people of Ascalon, “like unquiet wasps, always occupied with the desire of doing mischief,” seeing that the whole army was away at Tyre, and hoping to catch Jerusalem unguarded, appeared suddenly within a few miles of the city, in great force. After ravaging and pillaging for a time, they were seized with a sudden panic, and all fled back to their town, without any enemy in sight.