History, about this time, occupied chiefly in relating how the Turks on the north, and the Egyptians on the south, made incursion after incursion, to be beaten back, each time with more difficulty, becomes somewhat monotonous. King Baldwin II., when the enemy found that his capture did not affect the success of the Christian arms, and agreed to accept a ransom for him, directly he got out of prison assembled his army and laid siege to Aleppo. Here he was assisted by the Mohammedans themselves, but in spite of his auxiliaries, was compelled to raise the siege, and returned to Jerusalem, where he was welcomed by his people. If he was unfortunate in attack, he was at least fortunate in repelling invasion, and beat back the Turks near Antioch, and again near Damascus. The Turks were only formidable when they were united; when, as often happened, their forces were divided by internal dissensions among the emirs and princes, the Christians were at rest, and when these discords were appeased an invasion followed. With the Egyptians the invasion was annual, but every year growing weaker. Still, though always beaten back, the Mohammedan troops came again and again, and the crown of Jerusalem was ever a crown of thorns. Among those who came at this time to Palestine was young Bohemond, son of that turbulent Norman who gave Alexis so much trouble. Baldwin gladly resigned into his hands the principality of Antioch, which after the death of Count Roger had been under his own care. Bohemond was young, brave, and handsome. Great things were expected of him. Baldwin gave him his daughter Alice to wife, and for a little while all went well, through the young prince’s activity and prudence. But he was killed in Cilicia, leaving no heir but an infant girl. After this a very curious story is told.
The princess Alice, widow of young Bohemond, resolved, if possible, to keep for herself, by any means, the possessions of her late husband. In order to effect this, as she knew very well that her daughter would become the king’s ward and heiress of all, she resolved to try for the help of the Christians’ greatest enemy, Zanghi. She sent a messenger to the Turk, to open negotiations with him. As a symbol of her good faith, the messenger was provided with a white palfrey, shod with silver, with silver bit, and harness mounted all in silver, and covered with a white cloth. On the way the messenger was arrested and brought to the king, who was travelling in haste to Antioch. He confessed his errand and was executed. But Alice closed the gates of the city, afraid to meet her father. These were opened by some of the inhabitants, who did not choose to participate in this open treason to the Christian cause, and Alice retreated to the citadel. Finally the king was prevailed on to pardon her, and she received the towns which had been already settled on her by the marriage deeds, of Laodicea and Gebail. But she was going to cause more trouble yet.
Another son-in-law of the king was Fulke, who succeeded him. He came to Palestine as a pilgrim, bewailing the death of his wife Ermentrade. Here he maintained in his pay a hundred men-at-arms for a whole year, in the king’s service. Baldwin, who had no sons, offered him his daughter Milicent, and the succession to the crown. Fulke, then thirty-eight years of age, gratefully accepted the offer, and consoled himself for his bereavement.
Baldwin the Second died in the year 1131. He had ruled Edessa for eighteen years, and Jerusalem for twelve, during which time he had spent seven years in captivity. He was lamented by his subjects, though his reign had not been fortunate or successful. Still, by dint of sheer courage, the boundaries of the realm had not been contracted. What was really the fatal thing about his reign was that the Mohammedans knew now by repeated trials that the Christians were not invincible. It was a knowledge which every year deepened, and every petty victory strengthened. The prestige of their arms once gone, the power of the Christians was sure to follow.
Religious as Baldwin was, his piety did not prevent him from asserting the rights of the crown over those claimed by every successive patriarch, and many quarrels happened between him and the prelates, who tried perpetually to extend their temporal power. During one of these, the patriarch fell ill. Baldwin went to see him. “I am,” said the revengeful priest, “as you would wish to see me, Sir King,” implying that Baldwin wished his death, even if he had not compassed it. William of Tyre, a priest to the backbone, relates this incident without a word of comment. It must be remembered that the position of the Latin clergy in Palestine was not by any means so good as that which they enjoyed in Europe. Their lands were not so large in proportion, and their dignity and authority less. On the other hand, they were neither so nobly born, nor so well bred, nor so learned as their clerical brethren of the West. Thus it is reported that a Flemish pilgrim was once raised to the patriarchal seat, simply because, at the imposture of the Holy Fire, his taper was the first to light, and it will be remembered how, after the deposition of Dagobert, Ebremer, a simple and perfectly ignorant monk, was put into his place. And when the pope refused to confirm the appointment, they made him archbishop of another diocese by way of compensation.
We have seen, so far, the growth of this little kingdom, created in a single campaign, sustained by the valour of kings whose crown was an iron helmet, whose throne was seldom anything but a camp-stool in a tent, or the saddle of a horse, whose hands grasped no sceptre but a sword, who lived hardly, and died in harness. We have next to see its decline and fall.
Legends of Baldwin’s prowess grew up as the years ran on. As a specimen of the stories which gathered about his name we subjoin the following translation, almost literal, from a French romance of the fourteenth century. It treats of a visit made by Baldwin with two Mohammedan princes, secretly Christian, to the Old Man of the Mountains:
“Now,” said the Prince,[[61]] “great marvels have I here;”
And summoning from those who waited near
One of his own Assassins, bade him go