That the Eastern Church was restored by the labor of the Western faithful offers no small stimulus for our faith. We see the most pious battles fought solely for God, an army burning with a passion for martyrdom, without a king, without a prince, driven only by a dedication to their own salvation. We read of how the Gauls went off into the distant East, eager for battle, and they searched the secret places of Delphic Apollo, and we know that the treasures taken from the sacred shrines were thrown into the swamps of Toulouse. We know that all these troops were summoned together by the princes in those days; we have heard that, in this instance, not a single man was compelled against his will, by any master, to go on the journey. Here, weeping, confessing their sins, abandoning their possessions, spurning their wives and fleeing from their children, they took up arms. Foremost in the minds of all of them was the desire for a blessed death, for the love of God. Here, I say, I wish to weigh God's wonders: He who once strengthened the minds of the martyrs to undergo torture out of a love for invisible things, again in our own times, in an entirely unexpected way, which would have been considered absurd had anyone said it, placed in the hearts of our men such contempt for the things of this world, even in the hearts of the most bloodthirsty and greedy men. He accomplished so much with so few men, that one must refrain from praising those who did it, since it is clearly God who was responsible. This is clearly demonstrated by the fact that men who have won many victories often grow insolent, and princes rise up against each other, or they become stained with sin, and the Gentiles find them reduced, I might say, almost to the level of animals. However, if they were to grow aware of themselves, and were motivated by penitence, they would immediately be restored to their proper fortunes and pious successes. Let us rejoice then in the battles they won, undertaken purely out of spiritual desire, granted by divine power, which had never before appeared, but was made manifest in modern times; and let us not admire the fleshly wars of Israel, which were waged merely to fill the belly.

The king of Tripoli ceaselessly petitioned our princes to remove themselves from the town, and make an alliance with him. In response, the leaders of the army, that is, Duke Godfrey, Raymond the Count of Saint-Gilles, Robert, Count of Flanders and Robert, Count of Normandy, took into account the fact that the land was abundant with new produce, that beans, sowed earlier, ripened by the middle of March, and that barley could be harvested before the middle of April, and they also considered the general condition of the land, and the great quantities of supplies, and they decided to resume the journey to Jerusalem. They abandoned the siege of the town and reached Tripoli on the sixth day of the week, on May 13, and they remained there three days. The king of Tripoli made an agreement with our leaders, and immediately freed more than 300 captives whom he held in chains. At their departure, as a sign of his gratitude, he gave them 15,000 besants, as well as fifteen costly horses. In addition, he gave our men a very good price on horses, donkeys, and other goods that would prove useful for the army, as a result of which the Lord's expedition was now fully restored to fighting condition. After this agreement had been made, he also added that if the Crusaders won the war which he had been told they were preparing strenuously to wage against the emperor of Babylon, and if they captured Jerusalem, then he would immediately convert to Christianity and hand himself and his land over to them. When they left this city, on the second day of May, they traveled over rough, narrow road all day and all night, and they finally reached a fort named Betholon.[200] Then they traveled on to a city located on the sea, called Zabari,[201] at whose river, called the Braim,[202] they quickly and opportunely relieved the great thirst from which they had been suffering. On the evening of the Ascension of the Lord they ascended a mountain along a very narrow road, in great fear that the narrowness of the path might prevent them from evading any enemies they might meet at the end of the road. But God's providence prevented anyone from daring to attack them. Our soldiers formed a vanguard that kept the road free from hostile attack. At length they reached a city by the sea, which was called Baruth; then they went on to Sarepta,[203] once inhabited by the Sidonians, and made famous by Elijah's feeding of the widow;[204] from there they went to Sur,[205] and then to Acre, once the capital of Palestine. Continuing on, they came to a castle called Caiphas, finally reaching the renowned Caesarea of Palestine, where they remained for three days after the end of May, celebrating Pentecost. Then they went on to Ramathan,[206] famed as the birthplace of Samuel, which some wiser men, more knowledgeable about topography, claim to be Ramothgalaad, in the struggle for which the wicked Ahab was defeated by Benadab, the king of the Syrians.[207] When they heard that the Franks were coming, the inhabitants fled. This city, even if it were not notable for any ancient monuments, would still seem to me to overshadow all other cities because of the presence of the brilliant martyr George, whose tomb they claim is there. After the inhabitants left, a large supply of every kind of food was found there, which offered, for many days, ample provisions for our army. The leaders, after consulting with and obtaining the approval of the clerics and bishops were were able to be present, decided to choose a bishop for this city. They tithed themselves, enriching him with gold and silver; they also supplied him with horses and other animals, so that he and his household might live without the pain of indigence, and in accordance with his rank. Amid general rejoicing, the bishop[208] settled in the city which had been entrusted to him, to guard the people, to build cathedral as soon as possible, and to install officials who would look after the church, ready to obey the leaders who had vehemently sought this out of love and worship of the martyr.

Finally they reached the place which had provoked so many hardships for them, which had brought upon them so much thirst and hunger for such a long time, which had stripped them, kept them sleepless, cold, and ceaselessly frightened, the most intensely pleasurable place, which had been the goal of the wretchedness they had undergone, and which had lured them to seek death and wounds. To this place, I say, desired by so many thousands of thousands, which they had greeted with such sadness and jubilation, they finally came, to Jerusalem. As one reads that the sojourners ate and worshiped the Body of the Lord,[209] so it may be said of these men that they adored Jerusalem and took it by storm. Tuesday, the sixth of June, the siege was begun with remarkable energy, by a remarkable combination of forces. From the north, Count Robert of Normandy laid siege to it, near the church of the blessed Saint Stephen, who, because he said that he had seen the Son of man standing at the right hand of God, was covered with a rain of stones by the Jews. From the west, Duke Godfrey, the count of Flanders, and Tancred attacked. From the south, the count of Saint-Gilles laid siege, on the mount of Zion, near the church of the blessed Mary, mother of God, where the Lord is said to have sat at dinner with his disciples, the day before his Passion. On the third day after they had arrived at the city, Raymond, whose deeds on the Lord's expedition were well known, this man, I say, whom they called Pelet, together with another man who had the same name, and several others, marched some distance from the place of siege, to see if he could find any of the enemy wandering into our ambushes, as they often did. Suddenly a band of nearly 200 Arabs fell upon them; as soon as Raymond saw them, he attacked as fiercely as a lion, and, in spite of their boldness, with the aid of God, they were subdued. After killing many of them, and capturing thirty horses, they brought the victory back to the army, which took pleasure in their glorious deed. At dawn, on the second day of the next week, the outer, smaller wall of the city was attacked with such force and with such teamwork that both the city and its outskirts would have immediately fallen to the Franks, if they had not lacked ladders. After the outer wall was broken, and a broad passage opened through its rubble, the ladder they did have was extended towards the battlements of the main wall. Some of our knights climbed it quickly and began to fight at long range. And when the arrows ran out, they fought with lances and swords; both the defenders of the city and the besiegers battled hand-to-hand with steel. Many of our men fell, but more of their men.

One should know that while Antioch was under siege, Jerusalem was held by the Turks, under the authority of the king of Persia. Moreover, the emperor of Babylon, as I mentioned previously, had sent ambassadors to our army, for the sole purpose of determining the condition of our enterprise. When they saw the terrible need that afflicted the Christian army, and when they discovered that the nobles had become foot-soldiers because of a lack of horses, they considered us valueless in a struggle against the Turks, whom they hated intensely. The king of Persia had taken great part of the Babylonian empire, which was very large, for his people were wiser and more energetic in military matters. When the Babylonian prince heard, however, that the Franks -- that is, God working through the Franks -- had taken Antioch, and had defeated Kherboga himself, together with the pride of Persia, before the walls of Antioch, he quickly gathered his courage, bore arms against the Turks, and laid siege to them in Jerusalem, which they occupied. Then, I don't know whether by force or by some agreement, they entered the town, and placed many Turks, whether to guard it or to take charge of it I don't know, in the tower bearing the name of David, which we think more correctly should be called the tower of Zion. In any case, during the siege they harmed none of us, merely watching peacefully over their assigned tower. As a result, our men fought only with the Saracens.

They were unable to buy bread during the siege, and for nearly ten days food was difficult to find anywhere, until God brought help, and our fleet reached the port of Jaffa. In addition, the army also suffered from thirst, and they not only were worn out by this great discomfort, but they had to drive their horses and pack animals a great distance, six miles, to find water, all the while fearful that the enemy might attack them. The fountain of Siloah, famous for having cured the blind man in the Gospel,[210] which rises from springs on mount Zion, supplied them with water, which was sold to them at the highest prices. After messengers had announced that the fleet had arrived at Jaffa, the leaders held a meeting and decided to send a group of knights to the harbor to guard the ships and the men in them. Early in the morning, at the crack of dawn, Raymond, of whom we have spoken often, together with two other nobles, took 100 knights from the army of his lord, the count of Saint-Gilles, and set out for the port, with his customary decisiveness. Thirty of the knights separated from the main group and came upon approximately 700 Turks, Arabs, and Saracens, whom the king of Babylon had sent to watch our comings and goings. Although greatly outnumbered, our men forcefully attacked their troops, but the strength and ferocity of the enemy was so great that we were threatened on all sides with imminent death. They killed one of the two leaders, whose name was Achard, as well as some of the most respected among the poor and the foot-soldiers. As they were surrounding our men, pressing them with arms on all sides, so that they were about to despair utterly, one man came to the above-mentioned Raymond and told him of the plight of his peers. "Why do you and your men remain here? See how your men, who recently separated from you, are now fiercely surrounded by an swarm of Saracens and Arabs. Unless you bring them help very quickly, you will undoubtedly soon find them dead, if they have not already perished. Therefore fly, hurry, I say, so that you may not be too late." Together with all of his nobles, Raymond quickly set off to look at the place where the fighting was going on. In preparing for combat he placed his faith not in arms, not in strength, but in faith in the Saviour. When the Gentile troops saw the Christian army, they swiftly broke up into two groups. Calling upon the Most High for support, our men attacked with such force that each man knocked the opponent charging at him to the ground. Judging themselves unable to withstand the onslaught of the Christians, the pagans stopped, and, driven by fear, fled swiftly. Our men followed them quickly, pursuing them for four miles. After having killed many of them, they brought back 103 horses as trophies of victory. They refrained from killing only one man, whom they brought back with them, and from whom they learned everything that was going on among their enemies, including what the prince of Babylon was planning against us.

Meanwhile the army was suffering from a terrible thirst, which compelled them to sew together the hides of cattle and oxen, in which they carried water from six miles away. They used the water carried in such bags, which were putrid with recent sweat, and multiplied the great suffering caused by hunger, to make barley bread for the army. How many jaws and throats of noble men were eaten away by the roughness of this bread. How terribly were their fine stomachs revolted by the bitterness of the putrid liquid. Good God, we think that they must have suffered so, these men who remembered their high social position in their native land, where they had been accustomed to great ease and pleasure, and now could find no hope or solace in any external comfort, as they burned in the terrible heat.[211] Here is what I and I alone think: never had so many noble men exposed their own bodies to so much suffering for a purely spiritual benefit. Although the hearts of the pilgrims burned for the dear, distant pledges of their affections, for their sweet wives and for the dignity of their possessions, nevertheless they remained steadfastly in place there, and did not cease to pursue the battle for Christ.

The Saracens were always waiting in ambush around the springs and rivers, eager to kill our men wherever they found them, strip their bodies, and, if they happened to gain booty and horses, to hide them in caves and caverns. Terrible hunger and thirst raged through the army surrounding the city, and the very great rage of the enemy prowling here and there thundered against them as well. But the leaders of the sacred army, seeing that so many men of such different capacities could scarcely endure such pain any longer, urged the use of machines by means of which the city might be made more vulnerable, so that, after all they had gone through, they might finally stand before the monuments of the passion and burial of the Saviour. In addition to the many other instruments, like battering rams with which they might tear down the walls, or catapults to topple the towers and walls, they ordered two wooden castles to be built, which we usually call "falas." Duke Godfrey was the first to build his castle, together with other machines; and Raymond, Count of Saint-Gilles, who permitted himself to be second to no one, also built his own. When they saw the machines being built, the castles being constructed, the missile-launchers and equipment being moving up to the towers, the Saracens began, with unusual speed, to extend and to repair their walls and towers. Working all night long, they surprised our men by the speed with which they accomplished things. Moreoever, the wood from which our men had built the castles and other machines was brought from a distant region. When the leaders of the army of the Lord perceived which side of the city was most vulnerable, on a certain Sunday night they brought the castle, together with some other machines, to that place. At dawn they set up the machines on the eastern side, and on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday they established them firmly in place. The count of Saint-Gilles, however, set up his machine on the southern side. As they burned with eagerness for the siege, their hearts were burning with intolerable thirst, and a silver coin could not purchase enough water to quench a man's thirst. Finally, on the fourth and fifth day, gathering all their forces, they started to attack the walled city. But before the attack took place, the bishops and priests directed the people who were their subjects to sing litanies, and to undertake fasts, to pray, and to give alms. The bishops remembered what had once happened at Jericho, that the walls of the perfidious city had fallen when the Israelites' trumpets sounded, and they marched seven times around the city, carrying the sacred ark, and the walls of the faithless city fell down.[212] They too circled Jerusalem in their bare feet, their spirits and bodies contrite, as they tearfully cried out the names of the saints. Both the leaders and the people came together in this time of necessity, to implore divine assistance. When this was accomplished with great humility, on the sixth day of the week, after they had attacked the city with great forcefulness, and their common effort had proved to be of no avail, such a great torpor fell upon the whole army that their strength vanished, and the steady misfortunes undermined the determination of the most courageous men. As God is my witness, I have heard, from men renowned for their truthfulness, who were present in the divine army, that after their unsuccessful assault upon the walls of the city, you would have seen the best of the knights who had returned from the walls striking their hands, shouting angrily, lamenting that God had deserted them. And I also learned, from sources no less reliable, that Robert, count of Normandy, and the other Robert, prince of Flanders, met and shared their mutual grief, weeping copiously, and declaring themselves the most wretched of men, since the Lord Jesus had judged them unworthy of worshipping His Cross, and of seeing, or rather of adoring His tomb. But as the hour drew near at which Jesus, who for the second time delivered the people from the prison of Egypt, is believed to have ascended the Cross, duke Godfrey and his brother, count Eustace, who had not stopped battling from their castle, steadily struck the lower walls with battering rams, while at the same time attacking the Saracens, who were fighting to protect their lives and country, with stones, with various other kinds of missiles, and even with the points of their swords,

Meanwhile, Lietaud, one of the knights, who will be known for generations to come for his daring and for his deeds, was the first to leap onto the walls of the city, startling the Gentiles who surrounded him, and robbing them of their confidence When he had mounted the wall, several of the young Franks whose pious boldness had made them preeminent rushed forward, unwilling to seem inferior to him who had preceded them, and they climbed to the top of the wall. I would insert their names on this page, were I not aware of the fact that, after they returned, they became infamous for criminal acts; therefore, according to the judgment of men who love the name of God, my silence is not unjust. Very soon, when the Saracens saw the Franks breaching the walls, they quickly fled over the walls and through the city. While they were retreating, our entire army rushed in, some through the breaches made by the battering rams, others by jumping from the tops of their machines. Their struggle to enter resulted in harmful speed; with each man wanting to be perceived as the first, they got in each other's way. Moreover, near the entrance to the gates to the city, the Saracens had built secret covered pits, which injured many of our men, not to speak of the difficulties caused by the narrowness of the entrance as our men rushed in. The Franks chased the fleeing pagans fiercely, killing everyone they came upon, more in slaughter than in battle, through the streets, squares, and crossroads, until they reached what was called the Temple of Solomon. So much human blood flowed that a wave of damp gore almost covered the ankles of the advancing men. That was the nature of their success that day.

Raymond, the Count of Saint-Gilles, moved his army from the southern flank and had a very large machine on wheels brought to the wall, but between the machine, which was called the Castle, and the wall, was a very deep pit. The princes soon conferred about how to accomplish the breaching of the wall quickly, and ordered a messenger to announce throughout the army that anyone who carried three stones into the ditch would certainly receive a penny. In the space of scarcely three days the moat was filled in, since night did not prevent them from carrying out their project. When the moat had been filled in by this means, they pushed the machine against the walls. However, those who had taken on the defense of the inner city resisted us, not out of bravery I say, but out of obstinate madness, hurling what they call Greek fire at our men, and damaging the wheels of the machine with stones. The Franks, however, with remarkable skill, often managed to evade their blows and efforts. Meanwhile, at the eastern side of the city, the tumult of battle alone made the aforementioned count think that the Franks had broken into the city, and were racing though it, spreading death. "Why," he said to his men, "do we delay? Don't you see that the Franks have taken the city, and are now triumphantly seizing great booty?" The count, together with his men, then swiftly invaded the city. When he learned that some of the Franks had spread through the city's palaces, some into the Temple of the Lord, and that many were fighting at the altars of the Temple of Solomon, as it was formerly called, in order to retain power in the captured city he spoke with the emir (as they called him) in charge of the tower of David, which was called Zion, demanding that he hand over the tower with which he had been entrusted. Thus the satrap, after a pact had been agreed upon between them, opened for him the gate through which the pilgrims used to pass when they entered Jerusalem, and where they were cruelly and unfairly compelled to pay tribute, which was called <I>musellae<R>. When the Provencals, that is, the army of the Count of Saint-Gilles, and all the others had entered the city, a general slaughter of the pagans took place. No one was spared because of tender years, beauty, dignity, or strength: one inescapable death awaited them all. Those who had retreated to the Temple of Solomon continued to battle against us throughout the day, but our men, enraged at the feeble arrogance of these desperate men, attacked them with united force, and by means of their combined efforts penetrated to the depths of the temple, where they inflicted such slaughter on the wretches within the temple that the blood of the innumerable crowd of those who were killed nearly submerged their boots. An innumerable crowd, of mingled sexes and ages, had poured into this Temple; the Franks granted some of them a few moments of life, so that they might remove from the Temple the bodies of the fallen, of whom a foul pile lay scattered here and there. After they had removed the bodies, they were themselves put to the sword. Those who had climbed to the top of the Temple, a large crowd of the common people, received the standards of Tancred and Gaston as a sign that peace had been granted to them in the meantime. However, whether Gaston, a famous and very wealthy man, was a Gascon or a Basque, I don't exactly remember, but I am certain that he was one or the other.[213] The army then ran amok, and the entire city was looted. Palaces and other buildings lay open, and silver, gold, and silken garments were seized as booty. They found many horses and mules, and in the houses they found great abundance of every kind of food. This was right and proper for the army of God, that the finest things that offered themselves to each man, no matter how poor, became his by right, without doubt or challenge, no matter the social class of the man who first came upon them. And then, putting these things aside, they ran, equally joyful and sad, towards that which they had thirsted for so fervently.

They approached the sepulchre of the Lord and thanked Him for what they had sought, the liberation of the Blessed Places; He had performed such great deeds with them as his instruments, that neither those who had performed them nor any other men could properly evaluate these great deeds. They kept in mind how much anguish they had endured to achieve this, and how they had accomplished what they could not have hoped for, and when they considered that they themselves had done deeds which had been unknown for centuries, no man could understand how blessed were the tears which they poured forth. Omnipotent God, what deep emotion, what joy, what grief they felt, after unheard-of sufferings, never experienced by any army, like the tortures of child-birth, when, like new-born children, they saw that they had attained the fresh joys of the long-desired vision. Therefore they were sad, and after they had joyfully wept tears sweeter than any bread, they rejoiced, and with overflowing emotions they embraced the most pious Jesus, the cause of their excruciating daily labors, as though he had been hanging on the cross, or had been held until that moment in the shelter of the tomb from time immemorial. Magnificent gifts of gold and silver were offered there, but sincere devotion was more valuable than any gift.

At last the next day shone forth, and the Franks, sorry that they had permitted those who had climbed to the top of the Temple (to whom Tancred and Gaston had given their own standards, as we said earlier) to remain alive, invaded the heights of the temple and cut the Saracens to pieces, killing the women together with the men. Some of them, preferring suicide, threw themselves from the top of the Temple. Tancred, however, because he and Gaston had given their pledges of security, was much disturbed by this killing. Then our men ordered some of the Saracens to carry off the dead, because the foul stench of the bodies was oppressive, and the city was filled with so many corpses that the Franks were unable to move without stepping on dead bodies. Therefore the pagans, when they had carried the bodies from the city, in front of the main gates piled up mountains of corpses, and burned them in a huge pile. We merely read about, and have never seen such a killing of Gentiles anywhere; God repaid them who had inflicted such pain and death upon the pilgrims -- who had suffered for such a long time in that land -- by exacting a retribution equal to their hideous crimes. For no one except God himself can calculate how much suffering, how many labors, how much destruction all of those who sought the Holy Places endured at the hands of the arrogant Gentiles. God certainly must have grieved more over their suffering than over the delivery of his Cross and Tomb into profane hands. But before we turn our stylus to other matters, it should be made clear that the Temple of Solomon, to which we referred earlier, is not the structure which Solomon himself built, which the Lord had predicted would not continue to stand, "one stone upon another," and which was destroyed, but an imitation of it, built by I don't know whom, as tribute to the noble ancient House. It certainly was a place of very great beauty, built out of gold and silver, of immeasurable price, and of incredible variety, with walls and gates plated with layers of precious metals. Count Raymond then had the prefect who had been in charge of the citadel, to whom he had sent his banners, brought out of the citadel that night, together with his entire retinue, and given safe conduct to Ascalon.

Then, when the holy places had been liberated, the entire Christian army was ordered to give alms and offerings, so that their souls might be properly receptive to the divine grace that they needed to choose the man who would rule the holy city as its king. On the eighth day after the taking of the city, they made an offer to the count of Saint-Gilles, because of his excellence, but he, although mindful of his high position, refused to take on such an onerous task, for good reason (he was an old man, who had only one eye, but was famous for his remarkable feats of arms and for his energy). Finally, they approached duke Godfrey, and, at the urgent insistence of everyone, the labor rather than the honor of this task was imposed upon him, for he would have to battle unremittingly against the great strength of the Gentiles, and to show good will towards the neighboring Christians. Slender, relatively tall, eloquent, and even-tempered, he had made himself known for his strength in battle on the Lord's expedition. According to reliable, accurate testimony, the following story is told about a remarkable deed he did, when he met at Antioch, on the bridge over the Pharphar, a Turk, wearing no cuirass, but riding a horse. Godfrey struck his guts so forcefully with his sword that the trunk of his body fell to the earth, while the legs remained seated as the horse moved on. The men of Lotharingia customarily had remarkable long as well as sharp swords.

We think that another of his deeds, no less glorious, and worthy to be told, should be included. They had taken Nicea, and since things had gone well at Nicea, they hurried off to besiege Antioch; on the way, from time to time, when the chance to relax their usual caution occurred, they hunted beasts in the nearby forests (the fields in this region were not as tall and thick as in our country). On one occasion, a bear of enormous size came out of the bushes; when the army caught sight of him, they set out in pursuit. Frightened by the shouting crowd, the bear immediately sought out the woods from which it had emerged. While many men were surrounding it, one wretch happened to reach the beast's lair. Leaping forward, the bear attacked the rash man, pinned him in his arms,

and with his teeth swiftly seized the leg of the man lying there.[214]

Then the Duke, separated from his men, went to help him; when the wretched man, weeping with pain and fear, saw him, he called upon the man's noble nature, and urged him to help him. Nor did the Duke, whose nature consisted almost entirely of virtue, delay helping him, but he swiftly drew his sword from its scabbard and forcefully struck the head of the beast. More annoyed than wounded, because of the hardness of its bones, the beast attacked the Duke, removing its teeth from the leg of the unfortunate man whom he had first attacked so fiercely. The man quickly departed, without troubling himself about the Duke's difficulty, but saving himself, leaving the man and the beast to resolve their conflict between them. The beast, angry at the blow he had received,

leapt up, seized the Duke with his claws, threw him down, and pinned him under his terrible limbs. With his raging mouth he bit the Duke's leg,[215]

but the noble-minded man

remained steadfast in spite of his fall, and tightly held onto the sword he had drawn.[216]

As he lay there, and the beast continued to gnaw at the hip he had seized, the Duke, fully aware of his predicament, placed his sword between the head and arm of the beast, gathered all of his strength, and drove the point of the blade into the depths of the beast's body. When he felt the metal gliding through his viscera, the beast finally relaxed the jaws that had sunk into the Duke's flesh. When the Duke saw that he had been released from the beast's mouth, and noticed that the beast was not moving from its place, he pushed with both feet, but in the act of pushing he received an almost mortal wound in his leg from the sword that was stuck in the breast of the beast above him. He fell down in worse shape than when he had been held by the beast, and now, weakened from loss of blood, after some time he was found by his men. The Duke was now sorry, although too late, for having gone out by himself, since this adventure was costly for his own warriors, and for the entire sacred army. Until the siege of Antioch was over, he had to be carried on a litter, and since he could not look after himself or others, he quickly lost almost 15,000 men of those who had belonged to him, but who abandoned him when he became disabled.

Since we have dealt with the bear, we would also like to mention a deed performed by his brother Baldwin, who is now still the ruler of Jerusalem, since no other more fitting place for the story may occur. He suffered a similarly severe wound in battle, in the course of saving one of his foot-soldiers, who had supported him bravely. Foresight led the doctor whom he summoned to resist covering the wound with medicinal poultices, because he knew that the wound was very deep, and while the skin could be made smooth, the wound would fester deep within his body. He proposed to conduct a remarkable experiment. He asked the king to order one of the Saracens whom they held prisoner to be wounded in the same place and in the same manner that Baldwin himself had been (for it was forbidden for him to ask for Christian), and to have him killed thereafter, so that he might look more freely into the corpse, and determine from this inspection something about the king's own internal wounds. The prince's piety recoiled in horror at this suggestion, and he recalled the example of ancient Constantine, declaring that he would not be the cause of the death of any man, no matter how insignificant, for such insignificant salvation, when it is ever doubtful. The doctor then said to him, "If you have decided that no man's life can be spent for your own well-being, then at least give the order to bring forward a bear, an animal useless except for show, and have it hung up by its front paws, then struck with an iron blade, so that I may then examine his entrails, and I shall be able to measure how far it went in, and thereby determine the depth of your own wound." The king answered him, "The beast will be brought immediately, since it is necessary: consider it a done deed." When the doctor had finished his experiment at the animal's expense, he found, as we mentioned above, that harm would come to the king if the wound were quickly covered, unless the pus was removed and the interior part of the wound would heal. To have said these things about the piety of the kings is sufficient; they would have been deservedly famous had the choice of a bishop, and the bishopric itself, not been defective.

Up to this point the careful Muse has proceeded through brambles, along a narrow path. A cloud obscures the traveller's path, and the dawning of the late star scarcely grows warm. Let the plague of blood have run only thus far; let there be no further time for slaughter and hunger. If Fortune has sometimes smiled on our efforts, the rapacious air of destruction has soon followed. When the walls of Nicea fell, and the city of Antioch was captured, what good was produced? The good that resulted from the sufferings, for each holy martyr, when death was conquered. For if grievous things had to be suffered, bearing poverty and death at the same time, the grief brought about future joys. I shall use the voice of the writer of the Psalms, "I was glad when they said to me, let us go into the house of the Lord;"[217] our feet shall tread the halls of Solyme, walking there joyfully. Franks, take these rewards of labor; do not grieve for the unhappiness you have endured. Take pleasure in the sight of the Sepulchre you had long hoped for, and in the restoration of the tear-stained Cross, and all suffering will leave your hearts. This city, often made the spoil of kings, was given over to utter ruin. O city made blessed by this capture, from now on you should rule, drawing to you Christian kingdoms. You will see the glories of the earth come here, to show filial gratitude to you. Not Ezra nor Judas Machabee did as much, after your sufferings; Hadrian, whence Elia gets its name, was not able, in reviving you, to give so much. This world fights for you and yours; concern for you involves almost the entire age. Once Judea, when it was at its strongest, could match this glory. Why are knights sung of in battle? I ask that you be the ruin of Persia and not of yourself. Attack the prince of Babylon, and whatever stands in the way of Jerusalem, so that good men may visit the Cross of Jesus, bowing their pious heads at the Tomb. I shall cry out that our times have learned what no future annals will teach.[218]

While temporal activities, which are thought to be the concern of the royal administration, were being taken care of, internal ecclesiastical concerns were not to be neglected, and as soon as a king was set up, they dealt with replacing the patriarch. At that time there was a cleric, of what rank I am not sure, named Arnulf. He had some skill at logic, significant knowledge of grammatical learning, and for some time had taught, in the subject mentioned above, the daughter of the king of England, a nun. The count of the Normans, through his sister, had promised him as much as a bishop's honors, if any of his bishops happened to die. Meanwhile, when the journey to Jerusalem was proposed, the bishop of Bayeux, whose name was Odo, and who was very wealthy, vowed to undertake the journey. Since he was the brother of William the elder, king of England, and, in addition to the office of bishop, among the English he held the county of Kent, with the expectation of great wealth, he seemed ready to dare new enterprises, to the extent of plotting to take over the kingdom from his brother. When the king found out about his intentions, he put him in prison, where he remained until the day the king died. At this time the bishop regained his freedom and office, and, as I said earlier, when the pilgrimage was proclaimed, Odo, accompanied by a large retinue and immense resources, set out on the journey. Arnulf enrolled himself in his retinue, and when death overtook this bishop, within the borders of Romania if I am not mistaken, Odo bequeathed, out of the fortune which he left behind, a legacy to him, which consisted of almost all of his most precious possessions. Since he possessed a considerable amount of literary knowledge, as well as native eloquence, and his increased wealth made him more well known, he began to drive our men on with many speeches, and to increase his fame in this way. The fact that learned men were in short supply made him even more illustrious, and since a man's voice is of more concern than the life he has led, he was called to the patriarchy of Jerusalem. For some time, then, he presented himself as the bishop, though in name only; he fulfilled his new office by sermonizing. Finally, after a short time, when news of his election reached the Apostlic See, after the death of the bishop of Puy, Pope Paschal decreed that Daimbert, the archbishop of Pisa, should administer pastoral care to the Lord's army. After Jerusalem had been captured and the king had taken office, Daimbert arrived with a large fleet; short while later he examined the process by which Arnulf had been chosen, and decided that, in accordance with canon law, it should be challenged. After a thorough investigation of the man's origin, he was found to be the son of a priest and therefore one who should not only be barred from sacred office, but, according to a decision by the council of Toledo, he should be ordered to become an eternal slave of that church whose dignity had been affronted by his engendering. When he had been deposed, then, in spite of his strenuous efforts to defend himself, the leaders wanted to mitigate the shame that he felt at being rejected, and so they asked him whom they should choose. In accordance with his depraved nature, which envied both his peers and juniors, he said, "Choose the Pisan himself, who is carrying out his assignment." The leaders agreed with his words, seized the archbishop in the church where he was sitting, almost without asking his consent, and escorted him themselves to the cathedral to take up the see. A short time later, after the death of the glorious king Godfrey, during the reign of his brother Baldwin, who had previously ruled over Edessa, they accused Daimbert of treason. Convicted of the crime, he who had resigned his metropolitan see was deprived of the office of patriarch. When another election was held to determine who would be bishop, Arnulf shrewdly nominated one of his peers, whom he knew to be submissive, a simple, illiterate man, named Ebremar, who would offer no resistance to Arnold's power. He, however, behaved in a religious fashion, and I think that he did not carry out Arnulf's wishes in every way. As result, he soon was accused at the Apostolic See, but the accusation failed miserably. As a result, Arnulf, together with those who had been his accomplices in the accusation against Ebremar, incurred the wrath of the king, who deprived him of the guardianship of the Sepulchre, and drove him from the city. Reinstated by the leaders of the Apostolic See, the bishop returned to Jerusalem, to the great shame of his persecutors. This is quite enough to have said about the election and deposition of that would-be patriarch. The election, which was null and void in the minds of all right-thinking men, took place on the day of the festival of Saint-Peter-in-chains, but since he had no help from a pious life, it dissolved. The city was captured by the Franks on the fifteenth day of July, on the sixth day of the week, almost at the hour when Christ was put on the cross.

A short time later, only a few days in fact, ambassadors[219] arrived from the city of Naplouse,[220] which, unless I am mistaken, in ancient times was called Emmaus. They invited Tancred and count Eustachius, the brother of the duke who was now king, both of whom were brave, noteworthy men, to set out for the above mentioned city, bringing with them a large army, to take control of it. They set out, bringing many men with them, including great number of foot-soldiers, and reached the outskirts of the city. The residents of the town, of their own free will, then opened the fortifications and surrendered to them. Other messengers came to king Godfrey, bearing the news that the emperor of Babylon was getting large numbers of troops ready to wage war against him. The king, made fiercer by what he had just been told, dispatched messengers to his brother Eustace and to Tancred, instructing and urging them to return to Jerusalem as soon as possible. The king also indicated that the battle would take place at Ascalon. When these most fearless men heard what had happened, they hastily set off through the mountains, where they found none of the Saracens they thought would be up in arms against them; then they reached Caesarea in Palestine. From there they retraced their steps, proceeding to Ram, the town mentioned above, made famous by the memory of Saint George, and situated on the shore of the sea, where they met up with many Arabs, who were the vanguard of the army they were to face. Our men joined forces against them, attacked them, and by their united efforts overwhelmed the enemy, who were compelled to flee. Many were captured alive, and they revealed the enemies' plans for the battle about to take place: where the army was going to assemble; what was its size; and where they planned to stand and fight. After he had gathered this information, Tancred sent messengers directly to Godfrey, king of Jerusalem, to tell him what he had learned. He sent other messengers to Arnulf, the man known as the patriarch, and to the other leaders, saying, "You should know that a great battle awaits you, and since it is certainly about to take place, come quickly to Ascalon, supported by as many fine troops as you can quickly and carefully gather." The king, than whom no one was wiser in his faith in God, by the authority invested in him proceeded to rouse the entire army of God to perform this task, and designated Ascalon as the place to which they should proceed to face the enemy. He himself, together with the man called the patriarch, and Robert, count of Flanders, left the city on the third day of the week.

But the count of Saint-Gilles and the count of Normandy informed the king that they were unwilling to proceed until they learned whether the battle was certain to take place; they said that meanwhile they would return to Jerusalem, offering to come quickly if needed. The king departed, and when he saw the enemy from afar, quickly sent news of what he had found back to those who were in Jerusalem. He summoned a certain bishop,[221] and sent him to the city, to entreat everyone to delay no longer, but, at this moment of need, to join him. On Wednesday the leaders gathered together the Lord's expeditionary forces and moved their camp outside the city. The bishop who had brought the king's words to those who had remained in Jerusalem was captured by Saracens, as he was making his way back to the king. It is not clear whether he died or was led away captive. Peter the Hermit, the official in charge of work that to this point was pious, together with clerics, both Greek and Latin, remained in the city, organizing processions, supervising prayers, preaching sermons, urging the giving of alms, so that God might deign to add this supreme victory to the victories of his people. The ecclesiastics who could be present, dressed in their sacred vestments, as though they were going to perform sacred offices, marched to the Lord's Temple, where they led masses and delivered sermons that moved the men and women deeply, asking God to end their exile. But the man with the name of patriarch, together with the other bishops who were present, gathered with several of the leaders at the river which is known to be on this side of Ascalon. There, by the trickery of the Gentiles, many thousands of animals, including herds of cows, camels, and sheep, had been put in place. When the leaders learned that they had been placed there as booty to tempt our men, the order was circulated throughout the encampment that none of this booty was to be found in anyone's tent, unless he could show that it was necessary for his food that day.[222] Meanwhile, 300 Arabs rode into view, and our men pursued them so effectively that they captured two of them as they fled, and harassed the others by pursuing them to their encampment.

Later on the same day, the man performing the function of patriarch had the announcement made through the entire army that early the next day everyone would prepare for battle, and he threatened to excommunicate anyone who stopped during the battle to pillage; each man was to suppress his desire for booty until the end of the battle. He asked that they concentrate on killing the enemy, so that they might not be diverted from the task by desire for shameful gain, thereby permitting greed to stand in the way of the victory they had in their grasp. Friday morning our army entered a very lovely valley, on a level with the nearby river, where they set up their separate battle lines. The Duke, who was now king, the count of Flanders, the count of Normandy, the count of Saint-Gilles, Eustace of Bologne, Tancred and Gaston together, in addition to others, both in single and in shared commands, stood before their units. Bowmen and lancers, who customarily march in front of the troops of foot-soldiers, were drawn up, and king Godfrey with his troops took up the left side, while the count of Saint-Gilles took up a position near the sea, and the counts of Flanders and Normandy rode on the right side. Tancred and others marched along in the center. Our foot soldiers moved against the enemy's forces; the Gentiles prepared themselves for battle without moving. You would have seen them carrying on their shoulders vessels,

which enabled them to hold the cool water in small sacks,[223]

from which they thought that they would drink while pursuing us as we fled. But God provided something other than the enemy race was imagining, for meanwhile, Robert, the count of Normandy, saw shining from afar the spear of the leader of the army; it seemed to be covered with bright silver, and its top decorated with thick gold. Steadily spurring his swift horse on, he attacked the prince, who was carrying spear as a standard, with great force, wounding him with terrible blow. On the other side, the count of Flanders loosened his horse's reins and plunged into the thick of the enemy. Tancred

rushed among the tents with a great company, and the troops, along with their leaders, were revelling everywhere.[224]

The fields and plains became bloody with carnage. The enemy was unable to bear their losses, and soon fled in despair. Even as the number of pagans was great, so was the carnage great. If the waves of the sea were great, so the Lord shows himself much more marvelous in the deeps.[225] Then, so that it might be clear that the hand of God only, and not that of man, was waging war, you would seen them flee blindly, with their eyes open, and in their attempt to avoid our weapons, they threw themselves on them. There was no place of refuge:

tall trees offered no protection for many of them, nor were they able to escape our arrows. Swift blows created massive destruction.[226]

All those whom flight could not protect were dead or almost dead from the blows of our arrows and swords, which cut them down like cattle. The count of Saint-Gilles, near the shore, from which he had launched his own army against the enemy, attacked them like a storm, with such vehemence that many of them, trying to escape from the blades, voluntarily plunged into the sea.

When the victory had been won, thanks to God's leadership, the prince of the Babylonian army, who, in their language, is called an emir, was confounded, and, unable to control his astonishment at what had happened to him, lamented at great length. He thought about the great amount of supplies that he had brought, and the superb, strong, fine-looking young men, the noble arms, the power of his allies, and, I should have said, all the knights; in addition, he saw that they had what would make the most sluggish of men secure, that is, they had fought in front of their own city's gates, to which they could surely retreat, and, what made it even safer, in their own land. And he looked upon the Franks, in every way inferior in military might, whose young men had been weakened by long hunger, whose swords were rusty, whose lances were darkened, whose few remaining troops were worn out, all of whose leaders were exhausted by bitter suffering, as they rode on horses racked with every kind of disease, and, to put it briefly, he marveled that these poor wretches, a band of exiles, had conquered the countless soldiers of his own nation, and that the glory of the entire East had been brought down by the least of men. Our victory was also aided by the fact that, when the cry for retreat spread through the enemy's army, the emir in charge of Ascalon, seeing the Babylonian prince turn to flee, ordered that all those who fled should be prevented from entering his city. The enemy was very much astonished that the Franks had chosen not to fight before the walls of Jerusalem, but had marched for nearly two days to meet them.

While the Franks were thanking God, as was right, for such a victory, Robert, the count of Normandy, a man of remarkable generosity, even in his impoverished exile, bought for twenty silver marks, from the man who had captured it, the spear, which, as we have said, was covered with silver, and which had stood before the prince of Babylon as his standard. He then gave it, to stand at the Tomb of the Lord, as a symbol of such a victory, to Arnulf, who was called the Patriarch. They say that the sword which had belonged to this prince was bought by someone for sixty besants. In addition, a large fleet had followed the army to Ascalon so that, after the Franks had been defeated and made captives, they might buy them from the victors, and carry them off to be sold throughout the furthest kingdoms of the East. However, when they saw the Egyptians shamefully fleeing, they set sail instantly, and made their way into the interior by sea. Finally, after having slaughtered the Saracens, and the Egyptians as well, the Franks returned to the abandoned tents and collected booty beyond count. They brought out a horde of gold and silver, the wealth of the Assyrian nobility, and whatever precious household goods they had, as well as all kinds of animals, and a collection of various arms. They kept whatever could be used, and burned the rest. Then they returned to Jerusalem, with overwhelming joy, pouring out unnumbered tears of gratitude in memory of the passion and burial of the Lord. As a result of this fortunate turn of events, the Franks were now so prosperous that those who had begun the journey in poverty and without enough to sustain them on the pilgrimage, now returned from it laden with gold, silver, horses, and mules. They won this glorious battle on August 13.

Since we offered, at the beginning of this volume, examples from Scripture which we thought were relevant to such an enterprise, we may now be able to find something in the words of the prophet Zechariah that fits the siege of Jerusalem. He says, "The Lord, who stretches forth the heavens and lays the foundation of the earth, and forms the spirit of man within him, speaks." He stretches the skies who spread (the influence of) the church, as he propagated his seed from the East, according to Isaiah,[227] by means of the apostles, even as he had to gather the church through them from the West. He lays the foundations, since he permits the pagans to persevere in their heard-hearted falsehood. He places the spirit within man when he grants innate reason in the mind of every true believer. "Behold I shall make Jerusalem the lintel of intoxication unto all the people roundabout."[228] The lintel rises about the door; house is entered through the door; drinking is harmful to the stomach. If we call the door faith in the Lord Jesus, through whom we come to the Father, then the Church of Jerusalem, because both the Law and the Word of the Lord came from it, we may correctly call the lintel, because it gave rise to these things. For Paul, after fourteen years, returned to it, to confer with Peter and the others about the Gospel, "lest he had run, or should run, in vain."[229] But this is the lintel of drunkenness unto all the people roundabout, since all nations were disgusted and nauseated by those things in which the traces of our faith resided. "But Judah will be in the siege against Jerusalem."[230] He says not only that it will be a terror to foreigners, but that Judah, that is, the faithful people, will besiege Jerusalem, acknowledging that it will be trodden by the nations. "In that day I shall place Jerusalem as a heavy rock upon all people."[231] If I may take the part for the whole, in accordance with the frequent practice of Scripture, Jerusalem becomes a heavy weight for all the people because it recently imposed upon all people who are called Christian the weight of a very great labor for her liberation. "All that lift up Jerusalem will be cut in pieces, and all the kingdoms of the earth will be gathered together against it"[232] Who are those who will lift it up, if not those who, after the times of nations have ended, lift it up from its own destruction? The Lord says, "Jerusalem will be trodden down by the Gentiles, until the times of the Gentiles be fulfilled."[233] They will be torn apart because no one can say or even imagine how great the labor, the suffering, the misery of hunger and thirst would be that they endured in the siege. And, to speak like Ezekiel, "every head was made bald, and every shoulder was peeled;"[234] that is, perhaps, either by the steady attack of siege-machines, or by carrying heavy weights. But after Jerusalem has been raised, "all the kingdoms of the earth will gather against her," which should not be taken allegorically, but, as the story that has just been told, was offered as something visible to heavenly eyes. For what kingdom of the East did not send its men to war, bringing every kind of siege-engine, which I did not mention earlier, and everything necessary to besiege a city? They brought, in addition to soldiers, merchants to buy the Franks, since they expected that the pagans would win because of the great size of their forces, and perhaps they had heard that the number was greater than Kherboga actually had. "On that day, God says, I will smite every horse with astonishment, and his rider with madness."[235] If the horse is taken to mean earthly honor, the rider of the horse is undoubtedly to be understood as he who is preeminent in honor. All honor is astonished because every power or kingdom, stupified by God's army, dares do nothing. Every prince went mad, because he did not know what to do, nor where to turn; deprived of force, each learned what the strength of God's army was. "And I will open my eyes upon the house of Judah, and I will smite every horse of the people with blindness."[236] If Judah is the confessor, I may certainly call them confessors who have never chosen to abandon the origin of their faith, that is, the Franks, upon whom the entire weight of the journey fell. God opened his eyes upon them when he showed the grace of his goodness to them by bringing about this outcome. He struck the horses of the people with blindness when he punished the arrogance of the Gentiles by showing them his displeasure. In Sacred Scripture the horse often stands for pride. For what greater blindness is there than to make war on the sons of God? What is more blameful than to fail to acknowledge God, to glory in one's own ignorance, and to war against the faithful? But why exercise the license of allegory, piecing words together, when historical truth prevents us from going astray in belief? Didn't we say earlier that the enemy was struck with blindness, and overcome with astonishment at the swords which threatened them? And I marvel that the horse was able to see well enough to move when its rider had clearly gone mad. "And the leaders of Judah shall say in their heart: The inhabitants of Jerusalem shall be my confident in the Lord of hosts, their God."[237] Whom should I call the leaders of Judah, unless they be the leaders of that faithful army, who prayed that the inhabitants of Jerusalem be confident, when they ardently desired to restore the holy city by means of the strength of the Christian army, so that Christianity might grow, the Lord's memory be honored, and the Gentiles everywhere be attacked? But their strength is said to be in the Lord of armies, which can be seen today, when a small force of men assembles against all of the pagan kingdoms. Everything they did was foreseen by Him who rules the heavenly powers. At this point one should add, "Their God," since their thoughts were not directed to any but their own God, that is, the Christian God. "In that day will I make the governors of Judah like a fiery furnace among the wood, and like a torch of fire in a sheaf; and they shall devour all the people round about, on the right hand and on the left."[238] On this day, I say, of faith or of divine prosperity, the leaders who govern the Christian people, either externally in arms, or internally by means of spiritual doctrine, will become the furnace. That is, burning internally with heavenly love, they consume the wood of sinners among the Gentiles, while externally, they consume the evil-doers in battle as though they were straw. We have no doubt that God did not undertake this merely to liberate one city, but to scatter the seeds that will grow long and far against the madness of the Antichrist. They devour all the people round about, on the left and on the right, for they bring all those on the right into the piety of Christianity, while they destroy the wicked, those who are recognized as belonging to the left, and who are worthy of vengeful destruction. "And Jerusalem shall be inhabited again in her own place, in Jerusalem."[239] If Jerusalem is the Church, its place is the faith of Christ, therefore Jerusalem inhabits Jerusalem, since the terrestial city is restored so that she may long for a vision of heavenly peace, since she she has a place, since she clings steadfastly to Christ. "The Lord also shall save the tents of Judah, as in the beginning, that the glory of the house of David and the glory of the inhabitants of Jerusalem do not magnify themselves against Judah."[240] The Lord saves the tents of Judah in the beginning, since He, after having accomplished miracles for our fathers, also granted glory to our own times, so that modern men seem to have undergone pain and suffering greater than that of the Jews of old, who, in the company of their wives and sons, and with full bellies, were led by angels who made themselves visible to them. I say that today's men are the ones whom he more truly saves, because he truly receives as his children those whose bodies he has allowed to be slain, and whom he punishes in the temporal world. He says, "That the glory of the house of David may not glorify itself," that is, that the ancients, who excelled in their victories in war, may refrain from excessive pride, when they think of how modern men have done better than they. "The glory of the inhabitants of Jerusalem may magnify itself against Judah," opposes to modern accomplishments the pride of those who once reigned in Jerusalem and did famous things. By David, who was the most powerful, he expresses whatever generates the greatest pride, as though he were saying that although David had been the most celebrated in warfare, and some of the kings who succeeded him sought glory, they could in no way equal what our own men have done. The word "to dwell" <I>(habitare)<R> however, we say means "to dominate," since it is the frequentive of the word "to have" <I>(habeo, habes)<R>. David raising himself up in glory against Judah, and the glory of the inhabitants of Jerusalem are mentioned because they are the material in which those who wish to make little of our deeds take pride. "In that day shall the Lord defend the inhabitants of Jerusalem."[241] And did he not today also protect that meager band whom he guarded in the midst of countless pagans? They make bold, armed attacks on the neighboring nations every day, who have all they can do to protect themselves against their attacks, without presuming to go on the attack themselves. "And he who has offended among them in that day shall be as David, and the house of David shall be as God, as the angel of the Lord before them."[242] Certainly David, whose punishment is not described in the present passage, is not to be considered seriously at fault. Therefore whoever of us shall offend is like David, for God does not permit his lechery or his pride to go unpunished, as the deeds related above indicate. And soon, in the course of their sinning, he inflicted upon them the punishment that they very much deserved, either hunger, or some other kind of torment. Therefore the house of David become like the house of God, because it was returned to spiritual grace by means of divine censure. Those like David, upon whom God imposes his paternal correction, may still be embraced by his spirit. In the sight of God he becomes like an angel, for when through imminent punishment man sees himself banished by God's authority from his own affections, he then burns more ardently to love God. When he understands that he is being punished like a child, he loves like an angel. The sight of God is the pious emotion of the inner man. "And it shall come to pass in that day that I will seek to destroy all the nations that come against Jerusalem." We generally seek for things that are not visible to us. Why would God seek unless to propose the things that should be done according to eternal providence? Therfore God seeks "to destroy all the nations that come against Jerusalem,"[243] and, "in that day," because in his fine judgment he foresees and ordains that those who resist the faith are struck with eternal damnation, or are destroyed or diminished according to the extent of their own weakness. Therefore he says, "thou shalt break them like potter's vessel,"[244] whom you shall rule "with a rod of iron."[245] But God does this by internal illumination, which is certainly what is meant by "day," but this is something which cannot be expressed in rational terms. "And I will pour upon the house of David, and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the spirit of grace and of supplications."[246] I have said that the inhabitants of Jerusalem were the house of David, whom omnipotent God, although he has granted and still grants them many victories, subdued and continues to subdue with frequent misfortunes. While he does not permit them to despair at their continual misfortunes, nor does he allow them to grow prideful at their frequent good fortune, the sacred distributor necessarily pours the spirit of grace and prayers upon them, so that, while no prosperity, even the most satisfying, seems to smile upon them without soon being followed by adversity, the soul always filled with anxiety is compelled to place its hope in Him who aids them in every circumstance. Now, laying aside all mystery, we may think how this material Jerusalem was so often in doubt and fear, since she was, according to Ezekiel,[247] "set in the midst of the nations, with nations around her," a tiny city surrounded by countless nations. And while they steadily fear the attacks of barbarian nations, since they are not utterly stupid, they are never without the grace of the fear and love of God, these people who never lack matter for pious affection and prayers. Of course, iith the arrows of adversity the Omnipotent is accustomed to compel his people to remember him; by stimulating the flesh he customarily inflames their minds, and while they fear destruction they are always ready to invoke the aid of God with their vows and prayers.


We have said many times, and do not hesitate to repeat, that this had never been accomplished in any age. If some one cites the sons of Israel and the miracles God performed for them, I shall offer something more miraculous: an open sea filled with Gentiles; a cloud of divine fear rising from a column among them; I shall point to the light of divine hope offered to those whom Christ inspired, himself a column of uprightness and strength, those who were comforted by the food of the word of God only, like divine manna, when they had no earthly hope. Those men spurned the heavenly food that they were offered, and looked back in their minds and with their voices to the Egypt they had left behind, but our men never looked back, but instead eagerly embraced whatever poverty and suffering came upon them. Certainly the steady, destructive starvation endured at Antioch was also accompanied by noble scenes. In the midst of every kind of poverty, than which nothing more painful had ever been endured by men, how bravely did those men who did not refrain from participating in this Christian drama perform. Those who were present report that while the city was under siege, and the besiegers and the inhabitants of the city were fighting hand-to-hand, it frequently happened that, when the men withdrew on both sides, and wisely and reasonably refrained from fighting, a contingent of boys, some from the city, and some from our own camp, marched out and met each other, to fight in a worthy manner. As we said at the beginning of this history, when the expedition to Jerusalem spread throughout the Western lands, fathers set out on the journey together with their little sons. When it happened that the parents of some of them died, the little boys continued to follow the army, and they grew accustomed to the hardships. Their ability to tolerate privation was in no way inferior to that of their elders. When they set up their battle lines, they appointed leaders from among themselves, and they called them Hugh the Great, Bohemund, the count of Flanders, the count of Normandy, with different person playing each role. Whenever they saw that their subjects were suffering from lack of food, they went off to ask for food from the princes after whom they were named, and these princes gave them enough supplies to nourish them properly in their need. This remarkable army often challenged the city's children, using long reeds as spears, weaving shields out of twigs, and brandishing small arrows and missiles, according to what each could do. As their elders looked on, both from the city and from the encampment, the city children came out of the gates of the wall, and our children came from the tents, to face each other in the middle of the field. There one could see the shock of combat, the shouts on both sides, and the bloody blows, delivered without mortal danger. Often these preliminaries incited the hearts of the adults to go to battle. For when they watched the souls burn within those weak limbs, and they saw such frail muscles eagerly wielding arms, the adults groaned at the sight of children on both sides being wounded, and moved the children off the battle field , rushing forward themselves to renew their usual fighting. Thus the Lord's army was scarcely found at rest; every day some were practicing, while others were fighting.

There was another kind of man in this army, who was bare-footed, carried no arms, and was not permitted to have any money. Dirty, naked, and poor, he marched in front of everyone, feeding on the roots of herbs, and on the most wretched things that grow. A Norman, well-born, said to have been formerly a knight, but now a foot-soldier, he saw them wandering without a leader, and laid aside his arms and the clothing he wore, wishing to declare himself their king. He had himself called Tafur, a term taken from the barbarian language. Among the pagans they are called Tafur whom we call, to speak less literally, Trudennes, that is, men who kill time, that is, who pass their time wandering aimlessly here and there. It was the Tafur's custom, whenever the people he was leading arrived at a bridge to be crossed, or at a narrow pass to be traversed, to rush forward to observe very carefully, and if he saw that anyone of his men possessed two deniers, he would quickly separate him from the general group, order him to purchase arms, and assign him to the section of the army that bore weapons. However, those in whom he saw a love of the simple life, who had no impulse or desire to save money, he made members of his inner circle. Perhaps some might think that these men were not useful for the general good, and that he could have fed others what he was uselessly giving to them. But no one can describe how useful they were in carrying food, in collecting tribute, in hurling stones during the sieges of cities. They were better at carrying heavy burdens than the asses and mules, and they were as good at hurling projectiles as the machines and launchers. Moreover, when pieces of flesh were found among the pagan bodies at Marra, and elsewhere, during a terrible famine, a hideous rumor (based on something that had been done furtively and very rarely) circulated widely among the pagans, that there were some men in the Frankish army who eagerly fed upon the corpses of Saracens. To circulate this rumor among them even more vividly, the men carried the battered corpse of a Turk out in full view of the other Turks, set it afire, and roasted it as if the flesh was going to be eaten. When they learned what had happened, thinking that the charade was real, they grew even more afraid of the fearlessness of the Tafurs than of our other leaders. Like the ancient pagans, the Turks were tormented more by unburied bodies than any Christian seems to be concerned with his soul or fears damnation. To incite their wrath even more fiercely, at the siege of Antioch the Bishop of Puy promulgated an edict throughout the army, offering an immediate reward of twelve deniers for every decapitated Turkish head brought to him. When the bishop received the heads, he ordered them placed on long poles, before the walls of the city, where the enemy could see them. When they saw this, they squirmed in anguish. The bishop also did something there, after consulting with our leaders, that I should not pass over silently; when the inhabitants of the city understood that our men were struggling because of the scarcity of food, our men proceeded to yoke bulls to the plow, to dig up and seed the ground in sight of the city. By this means the inhabitants of the city understood that no cause could compel them to abandon the siege that they had undertaken, since they were in the process of growing food for the next year. These and other remarkable things were done on this expedition, which we think can be described in their entirety by no one. No one in any age has ever heard that any nation, without a king, without a prince, departed from its own lands and that, under God only, both the lowly and the great learned to carry the yoke, so that the servant did not serve a master, nor did the lord claim anything more than brotherhood from the servant. Thus, I say, we cannot offer examples from the past to match this, nor do we think that anything like this will occur in the future. Our argument is based most of all on the fact that, after the capture of Jerusalem, we saw so many Christian nations moving, so many people of great dignity, so many battalions of noble knights, such a great number of foot-soldiers setting out after those who had preceded them and opened the way, that we understood that in wealth and in number we might judge that this second movement was scarcely inferior to the first. For who could describe how great a crowd of nobles, burghers, and peasants, from Frankish lands alone (of the others I say nothing) accompanied count Stephen, whom we mentioned earlier, and Hugh the Great, brother of king Philip, when, later on, they again undertook the journey to the tomb of the Lord? Not to speak of the count of Burgundy, what shall I say of the count of Poitou, who brought not only a large group of knights, but a crowd of young girls as well? When his renown had been established everywhere, he came to Constantinople and held a conference with the tyrant Alexis, the most abominable of men. This wretched traitor informed the Turks by letters of his arrival, before the count had left the royal city. "Lo," he said, "the fattest sheep from France are moving in your direction, led by a foolish shepherd." What more can I say? The count went beyond the borders of the tyrannical prince; suddenly before him stood an army of Turks, who scattered, preyed upon, and conquered the disorganized foreigners. There Hugh the Great, struck in the knee by an arrow, after a long illness died, and was buried at Tharsa in Cilicia. They say that these things were done in the province called Satyria.[248]

But count Stephen, with certain bishops of our kingdom, among whom were Hugh of Soissons, William of Paris, fine, noble men, who were splendid, accomplished young rulers, and Enguerrand of Laon -- would that he had been as preeminent in his religious belief as he was in appearance and eloquence -- together with many dignitaries of all ranks, entered the city of Constantinople. The emperor summoned them into his presence and rewarded their leaders with large gifts. They consulted with him on whether they should follow the route of the previous army, or some other, and he truthfully told them that they did not have enough horsemen to take a route different from that of the first expedition. However, thinking that they could do new things and do them better than those who had preceded them, they declared that they would go on to other regions. They also asked the emperor to give orders that they might purchase supplies anywhere in Grecian territory. He agreed, understanding that, in their insolence, they were in effect bringing about their own ruin, which he foresaw clearly, as he happily agreed to their error. They went into Paphligonia, province unknown not only to pilgrims, but scarcely mentioned in Scripture, where for some unknown reason they were persuaded to enter the desert. The emperor urged them not to take more than forty days worth of supplies, and discouraged them from bringing more by promising that they could purchase supplies freely anywhere for their entire journey through the land. Therefore, having marched into these solitary depths, the mob foolishly moved forward, without supplies, hoping that the opportunity they had been promised to make purchases would come about, and they began to suffer from terrible hunger, swelling up and dying, and the army, which was following behind them, began to be annoyed by the stench of corpses lying everywhere. At times, when the leaders of the starving multitude castigated those in the rear for not more swiftly following the knights in front of them, to avoid sudden attack by the Turks, these men, driven by the pain of hunger, hoped and prayed that the Turks would actually come. Now they had almost reached the borders of Armenia, and the men were exhausted, and the animals dying of starvation, when thousands of Turks suddenly attacked. But the Franks, who seemed to be in charge of the front line, in spite of their weariness, easily drove off the enemy forces. The next day, when the Turks saw that the Franks had moved out of the front line, and the Lombards, Ligurians, and Italians had taken their places, alas, the enemy sensed the sluggishness of those in the front line and attacked fiercely. Those who were in the vanguard and carried the standards turned their backs shamefully, and the entire army, already too weakened by hunger to flee, lay open to hideous slaughter. Those who fled did not return in the direction whence they had come, nor did they move in a single group, so that they might at least form an organized retreat. Instead each turned his steps in whatever direction appealed to him, clearly going to his death. This pursuit and bloodshed continued steadily for almost eight days. In the army there was an archbishop of Milan, who had brought with him the cope, that is, the chasuble and alb (I don't know if he brought anything else) of Saint Ambrose. It was adorned with gold and gems so precious that nowhere on earth could anyone find its equal. The Turks took it and carried it off, and thus the foolish clerk was punished for having been insane enough to bring so sacred an object to barbarian lands. Such a slaughter of Christians of both sexes took place, so much money, clothing, gold and silver was taken, that this one victory was enough to recompense the Turks for the losses inflicted upon them by the first expedition. Of the 200,00- or more, as some argue -- Christians who were there, hardly 7000 remained alive. Count Stephen, together with several other leaders, including Harpin of Bourges, a splendid man, and Count Stephen of Beyond-the Saone, finally reached Jerusalem. When they arrived, the army of the emperor of Babylon was at the city of Ramla, fighting Baldwin, who was now the king. The above-mentioned Harpin urged the king to delay battle until he could collect as many men as possible. The king said, "If you are afraid, run back to Bourges." Having spoken, he rushed unwisely into battle, lost all of his troops, was driven from the city of Ramla, and escaped alone. Many of his men were captured, and we still do not know what happened to many of them. Harpin was led away captive, was finally released, returned to France, and become a monk. Nothing certain is know about Stephen of Chartres, but he is believed to have been killed, although we have no evidence. Presumably he was shut up in a tower within Ramla, together with many others, but we have not yet been able to determine from the sources whether he was delivered into captivity or death, although we are inclined to believe that he died, since he has never been found. After victory, the Turks customarily decapitated the dead bodies, to carry them as trophies of victory, and. with the heads removed, it is difficult to recognize someone from his decapitated body. The same doubt exists today about the fate of other great men. Meanwhile, the king himself, who, as we said, was the only one to escape, was mourned by his people, not only because they were threatened with death themselves, but because his death had been announced mockingly by the pagans. He himself, however, making his way through terrifying mountains known to very few men, two days later, if I am not mistaken, finally reached Jerusalem, which was expecting great dangers with justifiable grief. When he had swiftly collected whatever knights he could, together with the best foot-soldiers, he prepared to fight against the temporarily triumphant pagans. Therefore, at the moment that they thought the king was dead, he suddenly appeared with new troops, and fought with greater authority than before, driving them into flight, and piling up new carnage with his sword.

Since we have not described the death of king Godfrey, Baldwin's brother, because other material took precedence in the narrative, it is fitting that we briefly tell how his life came to an end, and where he is buried. They say that a certain neighboring pagan prince sent him gifts dipped, as became clear, in deadly poisons. He carelessly made use of them, thinking that he who had sent them was a friend; he fell ill suddenly, and died very soon afterwards. Some people, however, reject this opinion, and say that he died natural death. He was, however, buried in accordance with the eternal redemption that his faith and life testified he had deserved, next to the very place of the Lord's Passion, thereby obtaining the monument which he had liberated, and which he had defended from being trampled and destroyed by the pagans. His remarkable humility and modesty, worthy to be imitated by monks, added glory to his already exemplary reign, for he would never wear the royal crown in the city of Jerusalem, out of consideration for the fact that the general author of all men's salvation, our Lord Jesus Christ, provoked human laughter by wearing a crown of thorns. As we said earlier, he died, and, believing him to be no less temperate and wise than his brother, they brought Baldwin from Edessa, and set him up as king of the new sacred Christian colony. In the brilliant nature of these men they recognized and loved the peaceful and modest behavior, the relentless courage, the fearlessness in the face of death, which exceeded what might be expected of royal majesty, as well as the great self-control, and an extreme generosity that exceeded their resources. Baldwin's loyalty towards his people and disregard of himself can be inferred from one event: in an expedition he was conducting against the enemies, to save a certain foot-soldier, he put himself in great peril, received a serious wound, and narrowly escaped death.

Meanwhile, there was something which very much frightened the many people who surrounded them about attacking our small group, and it frightens them no less today. The study of the stars, in which Westerners have only the mildest interest, is know to burn more brightly, because of its steady use and constant study, among the Easterners, where it had its origin. The pagans admit that they had received prophecy, and a long time before the present misfortune they had predicted that they would be subjugated by the Christian people, but they were unable, because of their limited skill, to determine at what time the prophecies would be fulfilled.

Approximately twelve years before our leaders had gone on the journey to Jerusalem, Robert of Flanders, the elder count, about whom we spoke in the first book of this work, went to Jerusalem, with much wealth, to pray. He remained in the city for some days, wishing to see the holy places, and his generosity enabled him to learn much -- even about what went on among the pagans. One day, as I learned from those who had accompanied the count, nearly all the inhabitants of the city assembled at the temple of Solomon; they held meeting throughout the entire day, and finally returned home in the evening. The count was then received as a guest by an old, wise man, who had led a virtuous life by Saracen standards, for which reason they usually called him, "the Servant of God." When they returned to his house, he asked him why they had sat so long in the temple, and what was the nature of the difficult issues they had been disputing. The man replied, "We have seen unusual signs in the comings and goings of the stars, from which we have inferred that men of the Christian belief would come to these regions and would conquer us by means of steady and frequent victories in battle. Whether this should happen in a later time or closer to our own time, is profoundly uncertain. From this astronomical portent, however, it is very clear that these men, whom celestial judgment has permitted to conquer our people, and to drive us from our native shores, will, at later time, be conquered by us, and will be driven by military force from the lands which they usurped. This celestial sign is in accord with a thorough and regular reading of the ancient texts of our faith, which openly state what the celestial brightness has indicated in veiled manner." The words of this noble man are in harmony with the words of Kherboga's mother, which were given earlier. Nor do we at all doubt that for the same reason that she discouraged her son from fighting against the Christians, those who burned with desire to destroy Jerusalem restrained themselves, lest they oppose what was clearly a fatal decree by entering a battle. If at first they seemed to attack us in many battles, now they fought less eagerly, since they understood that they were not fighting against us, but against God, who was exerting himself and fighting for us. However, if it seems unbelievable to anyone that someone might be able to learn the future through the art of astrology, this argument seems clear evidence to us: the emperor Heraclius, through this kind of study, foresaw that a circumcised race would rise up against the Roman empire, but he was unable through this method to foresee that it would not be the Jews, but the Saracens who would do this. Let us also consider the Magi who, when they discerned by a swift inspection of a star that a king would be born, and that he would be both God and man, also knew over whom he would rule, although they could not have known, by means of the method mentioned, had divine light not pointed the way.

In this new battle of God against diabolical men, it will be worthwhile considering the many apparent resemblances between what happened and what happened to Gideon[249] Although everyone considered the infinite number of our men sufficient for the undertaking, they were tested by the waters, that is, pleasures and delights. That is, those who loved following God did not yield to the tortures of hunger and thirst, nor to the fear of various forms of death. But those who placed God after the interest of their bodies weakly submitted themselves to desires, symbolized by bent knees. Those who drank by bringing their hands to their mouths are those who, like Diogenes, heedless of all pleasures, intent on serving God, satisfied nature in whatever way was available. Three hundred were proven under Gideon, so that externally and internally they carried the cross, which, by means of the letter Tau, signifies the three hundred who were honored for their perseverance. Why did many of our men depart like wretches from the Lord's army, if not because they were in the grip of great, steady hunger, and because, "Without bread and wine, Venus is cold."[250] Because their bodies were so weak, none of them had the ability to perform sexually, and even if they wanted to, no opportunity presented itself. Therefore those who were found to be wise held trumpets in their hands, because they offered divine speech, the only solace among so many hardships, in their works. They hold vessels because, continually preparing for battle, they restrained themselves from all the foulness of carnality. Within the vessels they hold lamps, because, in the vessels of the bodies the brilliant treasures of pious intention shine more brightly than any light. That Gideon divided them into three parts may be interpreted in the following ways: Christ draws some of them to the crown when they pour out their own blood; others he brings to guard the sacred city, to preserve the promised land, and through these few men today, he resists the entire empire of the East; still others he permitted to return to their native land as testimony to such a victory, and to urge others to emulate their own pious exile. Therefore when the vessels are broken the lamps shine forth, because, when their bodies died, the spirits burning with divine love emigrated directly to God. The frightened enemies were defeated, because they rightly feared those men who, brave with the spirit of eternity, embraced death more dearly than life. As the Apostle says,[251] "For the bodies of those beasts whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the high priest are burned without the camp." Therefore God suffered beyond the gate. Thus they went out of the camp to him, that is, beyond the desires of the flesh, by carrying his shame, the mortification of the cross, in the midst of sinful desires.

The value of taking up this great task, along with the emotion of good will can be inferred from considering the one example that we have offered on this topic, which we think clearly demonstrates how much those who devoutly undertook the pilgrimage, after confession and sincere repentance, profitted, if it did such great good for those who were almost without penitence and confession, and if it even struck terror into the heart of the devil.

A man of knightly rank, living on the shore of the sea, lost his brother in the fighting. Hardly able to bear his death, he wore himself out in inconsolable grief, since the man who had killed him seemed so strong that the grieving man's hope of vengeance had been entirely extinguished. Worn out by intolerable grief, his mind dwelling at every moment and in every place upon his brother, the pain of his irreparable loss increased each day; without hope of solace, the poor man was tortured by the inescapable memory, until the difficulty of obtaining vengeance increased his distress so greatly that the devil, whose long experience had made him crafty, shrewder by nature than any mortal, on the lookout everywhere for occasions and motivations, smiled at the opportunity provided by his excessive grief. Therefore, on a certain day, worn out by putrifying internal anguish, gasping with the deepest weariness, he mounted his horse and brought it to drink at a river, where he saw the devil standing on the other side. He appeared in the guise of man with crooked legs, whom he often used to see. He seemed to be a knight, holding a sparrow-hawk in his hand, wearing his usual orange-yellow tunic. After watching him from afar, and remembering the weakness and the look of the man whom he thought he had known, he was struck by the unexpected change, when the evil spirit, mindful of its ancient effrontery, spoke first: "I am not who you think I am: know that I am a Devil, sent to offer a remedy for the torment you undergo every day. My master, who compassionately deigns to help all those who suffer, if they submit to him, sent me to you. If you obey him, just as I say, your relief will not be delayed. For since he is generous, and possesses an infinite treasure of things to be distributed to those with a desire for riches, he gives lavish and incalculable gifts; to those in need he provides assistance beyond their wildest hopes. Therefore you, who bitterly bewail an old misfortune that remains ever new, if you have a complaint, share it, certain in the knowledge that you will receive far more than you might dare to ask for. In the case of your dead brother, you can certainly hasten to take vengeance; if you want increased wealth, you will be amazed to see your wish granted. Therefore ask for what you want, and your ability will be equal to your wish." He had been watching this truly unusual creature, stunned that the devil was speaking, both attracted by the alluring offer and frightened by the enormity of the one making the offer. However, finally carried away by his desire for what he was being promissed, he said that he would gratefully accept the Devil's offerings. "However," the Devil said, "if the fruits of my offerings appeal to you, and the freely given benevolence of my prince, who sent me to you, captivates you, when you have truly experienced the results of what I have said, both about avenging your brother and adding to your wealth, then my master requires that you offer him homage, by promising to transfer your allegiance from the Christian faith to cling indivisibly to him, and by abstaining from those things that he forbids. There are certain things that he wishes you to agree never to do: never enter a church, or accept baptism from a sacred font." He also forbad a third thing, which escaped the memory of the person who told me about this. The man replied to him: "I can adhere to these prohibitions easily and without delay, but I ask for a short delay on the subject of offering homage." Since he had the free use of his rational faculty, the man very much abhorred the execrable change of faith that was being demanded of him, but he thought that it was more tolerable to abstain from Christian practices than to lose the foundation of his belief. Finally, without delay, the opportunity for taking vengeance for his brother, following the suggestions of the Devil, was offered to him, in such a way that the fondest wishes of the man were far surpassed by his increasing good fortune. In this way, as the remedy grew more effective, the bitterness of his grief gradually diminished, but meanwhile he did not dare violate any of the Devil's prohibitions. The ancient enemy of mankind continued to appear to him regularly, not only, as he used to do, when he was alone, or in out of the way places, but in the midst of a crowd of people he would suddenly make an unexpected appearance, point out the benefits he had already received, offer him better ones in the future, and insistently urge him to transfer his faith to him. The man, however, extremely grateful for the generosity he had received, promised eternal obedience to the generosity of the prince, but in the matter of the homage which was often demanded of him, he continually begged for delays. Therefore, while he was being pressed insistently by these appearances, even invisible ones in the midst of large crowds, news of the journey to Jerusalem spread, by the will of God, throughout the Latin world. Whoever felt that he was caught in sin was directed thither, where God showed a new way to repent. Among them this man chose to set out, although he had not confessed the foul pact he had already almost entirely concluded with the Devil. Thus this man, eager to emulate God, although not in keeping with doctrine, in that he had not confessed his sins before beginning his good works, was accompanied by such an abundance of the grace of God on the journey, and his labor was so pleasing to God, even though his efforts were not performed out of pure piety, that while traveling on this expedition the grim overseer did not dare to harass him. Moreover, as though he had no memory of the pact he had made, he never in any way appeared to him in a vision. After the capture of Jerusalem, when he was staying in the city with the others, one night, while he was thought to be asleep, along with the other soldiers, he became concerned about the horses that belonged to him and to his companions, who were resting under the sky, as was the custom in that region, and he went to look at them. Seeing the figure of man standing among them, and suspecting that he was a thief, he got up and asked, in a disturbed voice, who he was. In his usual manner, as though pious and humble, he replied to him: "Don't you know me?" And he, as though reminded of his old shame, replied with great severity: "I know you." After this initial exchange, the one offered no further questions, and the other added nothing to his reply. Although this apparition seems to have been idle, we know that it is of no idle significance to us, by God's dispensation; the Devil had not forgetfully passed him by, but had announced, by his appearance, what he wanted, and had indicated, by his silence, what he was unable to ask for. What more should I say? He went home, but on his way home the Devil never showed himself, or made any trouble. But a short time after he arrived home, he who provides wretched men with wicked counsel was aroused, so that the man had very few moments free from admonishments of this kind; men may put some distance between themselves and what they fear, and their rooms and walls may separate them from their anxieties, but neither the presence of other people, nor the locks on doors can protect them from their spiritual crimes, no matter where they go. One day, the man who had undergone excruciating, deadly suffering at the hands of the indivisible thief happened to meet a priest of Christ, distinguished for his learning, gentleness, and pious cheerfulness, whose name was Conon. When he had described, in the little time available (each was concerned with his journey), how much he had endured, the good man gave him whatever comfort he was able to give, extracted the promise that he would return, and sent him on his way. However the cruel beast did not remain silent, but persistently continued to offer enticements. The man soon grew weary of the burdensome and almost daily incursions, and returned to the doctor, made a clean confession, eagerly undertook penitence, and, once he had begun repentance, never again saw his tormentor. By this example we can understand how valuable the pilgrimage must have been for the pure in heart, since it offered so much defense and support for the impure.

It is also significant that for good reasons kings were excluded from participating in the grace to be earned from this journey, lest the visible royalty seem to arrogate to itself divine operations.[252] Therefore praise should be offered to the heavenly Lord, and utter silence to the human being. No leader assembled so many soldiers, or deserved so many triumphs. Regulus deserved praise for beating the Phoenician rebels. Alexander, battling the Eastern kingdoms, worn out with great battles, managed to acquire the name of the Great. However, Count Stephen, who had been granted the leadership of the holy army, like a man who had recklessly usurped those things that properly belong to God alone, was rejected as though charged with cowardice. And Hugh the Great, in effect, a man of royal name, was put aside. Therefore, when the "shades of a great name"[253] were rejected, and the power which had supported them was removed, the little people remained, relying now on God's aid only. And when things were decided, not according to birth, but according to God's choice, the unexpected one wore the crown.[254] God, who makes miracles, did not want the glory of his name given to another, for he was the sole leader, he was the king, the chastiser, who brought things from their beginnings to their conclusions, who extended his kingdoms this far. Therefore he gathered into His,not their arms, the lambs whom he had made out of wolves, raised them, children filled with the joy of pious hope, to the protection of his bosom, and he carried them to what they had longed to see.

As we were about to put an end to the body of the present history, we discovered, with the aid of the author of the world, that a certain Fulker, a priest of Chartres, who had for a long time been the chaplain for Baldwin at Edessa, had spread word, in a manner different from ours, about a few other things that were unknown to us, and these were erroneous and in rough language. We decided to include some, though certainly not all, of this material in these pages. Since this same man produces swollen, foot-and-a-half-long words,[255] and pours forth the blaring colors of vapid rhetorical schemes, I prefer to snatch the bare limbs of the deeds themselves, with whatever sack-cloth of eloquence I have, rather than cover them with learned weavings. Unless I am in error, at the beginning of his little work he says that some of those who set out on the journey to Jerusalem arranged for boats and sailed across the sea that separates Apulia and Epirus, and, whether because they committed themselves to a sea that was unknown to them, or because the ships sank because overloaded, it is reported that the ship carrying nearly 600 men was dashed to pieces. After they were drowned in the roaring sea during storm, and quickly washed up on shore by the force of the waves, signs of the cross which they all wore on their cloaks, tunics, and mantles were found on the skin of their shoulders. No one, that is, of the faithful, doubted that the sacred stigma could have been imprinted on their skin by God, to make their faith manifest, but the man who wrote it, if he is still alive, had to think carefully about whether it actually happened. For when the beginning of this journey was announced everywhere among the Christian people, and it was proclaimed throughout the Roman Empire in accordance with God's will, men of the lowest social class, and even worthless women, laid claim to this miracle in every way, in every part of their bodies. One man scratched his cheeks, drew a cross with the flowing blood, and showed it to everyone. Another showed the spot in his eye, by means of which he had been blinded, as a sign that a heavenly announcement had urged him to undertake the journey. Another, either by using the juices of fresh fruits, or some other kind of dye, painted on some little piece of his body the shape of a cross. As they used to paint the area below the eyes with antimony, so they now painted themselves green or red, so that, by means of this fraudulent and deceitful exhibition, they might claim that God had showed himself in them. The reader will remember the abbot of whom I spoke above, who cut his forehead with iron, and who I said was made the bishop of Caesarea in Palestine. I swear by God that I saw, when I was living in Beauvais, in the middle of the day, clouds approach each other somewhat obliquely, so that they scarcely seemed to form anything other then the shape of a crane or a stork, when suddenly many voices from everywhere in the city cried out that a cross had been sent to them in the sky. What I am about to say is ridiculous, but has been testified to by authors who are not ridiculous. A poor woman set out on the journey, when a goose, filled with I do not know what instructions, clearly exceeding the laws of her own dull nature, followed her. Lo, rumor, flying on Pegasean wings, filled the castles and cities with the news that even geese had been sent by God to liberate Jerusalem. Not only did they deny that this wretched woman was leading the goose, but they said that the goose led her. At Cambrai they assert that, with people standing on all sides, the woman walked through the middle of the church to the altar, and the goose followed behind, in her footsteps, with no one urging it on. Soon after, we have learned, the goose died in Lorraine; she certainly would have gone more directly to Jerusalem if, the day before she set out, she had made of herself a holiday meal for her mistress. We have attached this incident to the true history so that men may know that they have been warned against permitting Christian seriousness to be trivialized by belief in vulgar fables.

Finally, the same author claims that God appeared to Pyrrus, the man who betrayed Antioch, and commanded him in vision to betray the city. This was easy to do for him who made himself audible to Cain and Hagar, and made an angel visible to an ass. Certainly all those who returned after the capture of the sacred city, and who sent to us letters about the things that happened, particularly Anselm of Ribemont, said no such thing. Anselm makes no mention of Pyrrus, but reveals that it was betrayed by three men. According to the letter, before the three leaders engaged in serious discussions about handing over the city, they offered us a false peace, promising that they would soon thereafter give up the city. The mutual confidence that resulted was so great that they sometimes welcomed Franks within the walls of the city, and their men often mingled with ours. But when our army became less watchful and too comfortable, the Turks set ambushes and killed some Franks, and themselves suffered losses. There our men lost an excellent young man, who had been the constable for the king of the Franks, and his name was Gualo.[256]

Fulcher denies the discovery of the Lord's Lance, claiming that the man who discovered it was exposed as false, and punished by death in the trial by fire which he undertook. Not only do recent testimonies contradict him on this event, but the most pious ancient writers stipulate that long ago, when they visited the Holy Places, before the Turks invaded the kingdoms of the East and of Syria, they used to worship and kiss this same lance in that city. Will the cleverness of the priest Fulcher, who, while our men were suffering from starvation at Antioch, was feasting at ease in Edessa, prevail over the inspired work of the wise men who died at the time that it was found? Baldwin, who ruled this Edessa after the previous Baldwin, in his letter to Archbishop Manassa said that it was found by means of the revelation of Saint Andrew, and that it instilled bravery and faithful confidence in our men to battle the attacking Turks. Was the worthy bishop of Puy so foolish as to have carried a lance of questionable authenticity with such reverence when he went out to fight Kherboga? A certain memorable event occurred there: when Kherboga ordered the grass to be burned, the bishop saw that the dense smoke was pouring into the faces and eyes of the Franks as they rushed into battle, and he held the holy Lance in front of him, while, with his pious right hand, he made the image of the cross in the face of the rising smoke, tearfully imploring the aid of all-powerful Jesus; then, swifter than speech, his piety sent the round mass of foul smoke right back at those who had sent it. In addition, to speak about the death of the man who found the Lance, who is said to have died few days after undergoing the trial by fire, I shall say how he died, although no one is certain whether he was harmed by the flames, if they tell me why he who had received the gift of tongues according to Gregory destroyed his limbs with his own teeth.

Furthermore, if I am not mistaken, he adds that, while they were maintaining the siege of Antioch, a brilliant red light, like a fire, shone in the night above the army, and it also unmistakably took the form of a cross. Some of the wise men there related the fire to future battles, and said that the appearance of a cross was a sign of certain salvation and victory to come. We do not call this an error, for many witnesses confirm this testimony. About this, I say, leaky Parmeno should be able to keep silent.[257] Something like this occurred at the beginning of the journey, which I happened to pass over earlier[258] when I spoke of the movements of the eclipses and shooting stars which were seen. One day during the summer, towards evening, such a great fire appeared in the Northern sky that many people rushed from their homes to find out who was the enemy destroying their lands with such flames. All these events we firmly believe to have been portents of the wars which were to come. And now, having put aside the things that we thought might be treated separately, let us return to the order of the narrative.

No one can express how courageously Jerusalem was defended by its inhabitants during the siege. You would have seen how they had learned to hurl stones at the ballistic machines, how to cover their walls with timber and mats, and how to hurl what they called Greek fire at the machines, since they knew that the greatest difficulty for the besiegers was the lack of material. But the Franks, known for their cleverness, quenched the raging fire by sprinkling vinegar on it; in addition, they struck with sharp scythes anything found hanging over the walls. The Saracens added iron hooks to their long spears, with which they struck our men who, dressed in cuirasses, were fighting from the tops of machines; drawing their swords, our men made sticks out of their spears. But what best showed the vehement commitment of the Saracens was the fact that when one of them was struck by one of our men, the shield of the man who had been struck was snatched up, quicker than speech, by another man, who took up the place from which the first had fallen, so that none of our men could have known that his blows had wounded any of them.

When the city was fortunately captured, Bohemund, who had won the right to rule, by means of the hunger, cold, and loss of blood suffered by the Franks, preferred to remain there, rather to go on to trouble about liberating the tomb of Jesus Christ. And while he was inappropriately fighting to win a house and small tower, he lost the fruit and joy of all of his previous labor. What good would it have done him to run, when he was unwilling to understand in which direction to go? However, since he had until this time performed so well for the army of the Lord, both in arms and in counsel, it is not inappropriate to weave a few words into the text at this point, to indicate how it came about that he went. When he sent a messenger to Baldwin at Edessa, asking him also to come with him to look at the tomb of the Savior, Baldwin held back from rushing off to besiege the city, not because he was greedy, but because he had to look after his own city. The city was filled with Christians, and often endured the attacks of the surrounding Gentiles. After the man had promised to go on the journey, both men gathered large numbers of knights and foot-soldiers, since they feared not only those, but nearly everyone in the surrounding territory, and they set off for Jerusalem. After they had pitched their tents together, and nearly 20,000 men had assembled, a terrible lack of food began to assail them, so that they had nothing to put on their bread, and no bread on which to put anything. The supplies of the provinces, drained by the constant, various sieges, and the extended and lengthy expeditions that had passed through them, were in no way sufficient to maintain so many animals and men. Therefore the multitude, driven by the wretched lack of food, again resorted to their earlier strategy of eating the flesh of asses and horses, and they not desist from this practice until they reached the longed-for city of Tiberias, famous for having fed 5000 men under the Lord's guidance. There for a little while their mad hunger was relieved by a plentiful supply of food, and then they went on at last to Jerusalem, where they found a huge number of stinking bodies, hacked to pieces, so that they could not breathe without the stench penetrating their noses and mouths. They were welcomed joyfully by king Godfrey, and they remained there because Christmas was approaching. They celebrated Christmas at Bethlehem, as the judgement of reason would dictate, not only because they had come together there with a mutual purpose, but also because of the unexpected victory granted in their own time, which aroused unbelievable celebration among the Franks. After they left, each for his own territory, Bohemund was attacked by a large Turkish force as he was entering a certain city, and led away as a captive to a distant region of Persia. When news of this event reached the illustrious Tancred, he hurried as quickly as he could to occupy Antioch, and to fortify Laodicia, since both were under Bohemund's control. Robert, the count of Normandy, held Laodicea first, but when the city's inhabitants could no longer bear the taxes levied by this prodigal man, they drove the guards from the citadel, freed themselves from his authority, and, out of hatred for him, abjured the use of the coinage of Rouen. After some years in prison, Bohemund's release was finally obtained by a treaty and a ransom.

Since much has been said earlier, my praise of Godfrey's great knightly prowess can be brought to a conclusion by using the words of the Baldwin whom I just mentioned, the son of count Hugo of Rethel[259] When king Baldwin came to the throne he was put in charge of Edessa, but, alas, a band of Turks attacked him[260] and he was imprisoned by the pagans, and if he is alive, he is still there. This is what he said, although clothed in my words, about Godfrey: "It happened on the holiday of Saint-Denis. The king was returning from a city called Morocoria, and 120 Turks lay in ambush, while he was accompanied by only twenty knights. Fearlessly we awaited their attack, gripping our arms, while they, because they had attacked suddenly, thought that we would flee because we were so few. But we, made more audacious by the aid we had continually experienced from God, upon whom we relied spiritually, attacked the barbarians, and wreaked such havoc upon them, that we killed eighty men and captured ninety horses." Then he remembered, with a mocking smile, those who had fled from Antioch, and those who, after they had carried out their mission in Constantinople, had put off returning, and, to inspire the Franks who had remained in France, he added the following about his own fortune: "We have a vast fortune, and, not counting the treasures that belong to others, ten castles that belong to me alone, and an abbey pay me annually total of 1500 marks. And if God favors my taking Aleppo, I shall soon have 100 castles under my command. Do not believe those who have retreated, claiming that we grow weary with hunger, but rather trust in my words."

When this king left his noble life for a more blessed future life, the inhabitants of Jerusalem, mindful of his temperance and mildness, and afraid of losing his nobility of lineage, sent ambassadors to his brother, the duke of Edessa, to take control of the kingdom. He lived in splendor in his realm; whenever he went out he had a gold shield carried before him, which bore the image of an eagle, in the Greek manner. Like the pagans, he went about in a toga, let his beard grow, accepted bows from his worshippers, and ate on rugs laid on the ground. If he entered one of his towns or cities, two knights blew two trumpets before his chariot. Baldwin then yielded to the ambassadors and set off for Jerusalem. But when the neighboring pagans heard what he proposed to do, and saw him depart, they embarked in their ships, with a favoring wind, although in vain, since the duke was hurrying along the sandy banks of the sea, accompanied by a small group of men, while they rowed furiously, their prows plowing the waves, striving to intercept him, hurrying to bring their ship to the shore. But the duke,

with all of his mortal strength gone,[261]

in his great anguish called upon the Most High, promising that he would always obey Him and that he would rule the kingdom in accordance with Christian faith. And lo, the ships which had been moving as though they had wings now stood still as though stuck in mud, and the more each man struggled to sweep the sea with his oars, the more the hope was ridiculed by the steady backward movement of their boats. Thus the efforts of the unjust were confounded, and the duke remained deservedly free, seeing in this auspicious event a sign that heaven favored his assuming the purple. I have omitted mentioning the fact that Daimbert, the bishop of Pisa, had already set out for Jerusalem, together with group of his people, accompanied by the bishop of Apulia, by Bohemund, and by this very Duke.

After he accepted the kingdom, it is said that his first expeditions were undertaken against the Arabs. When he reached the slopes of Mount Sinai, he found a barbaric group of people, who resembled the Ethiopeans. He spared their lives because of their untamed behavior and ugliness. There, in the church which is called Saint Aaron, where God had given his oracles to our fathers, he prayed, and the army drank from the fountain of refutation, where, because Moses had drawn a distinction with his lips, and did not sanctify the Lord in the presence of the sons of Israel,[262] the Lord kept him from the promised land. Here the opinion of my priest has faltered, for it is is known that not Sinai, but the mountain Or, which forms the border of the ancient city of Petra in Arabia, was the place where Aaron lost his life, and water emerged from the depths of the rock which he struck.

In that holy city of Jerusalem, an ancient miracle renewed itself, and I call it ancient because the Latin world does not know when it begun. Our conjecture is that it began when, after the city had begun to be trampled by pagans, before our times, the Lord granted it both to those who lived there, and to those who happened to be there at that time. Every year, on the Sabbath of Easter, the lamp of the Lord's tomb seemed to be kindled by divine power; it was the custom in that city that the pagans went through everyone's house, extinguishing every fire, leaving only ashes in the hearths; the pagans made such a search, because they thought that the miracle was the product of the fraud, and not of the faith of the faithful. When Vulcan had been turned out by this means from the city, at the hour at which our religion's law has determined that the Catholic people are to be present at the service of the solemn resurrection and baptism, you would have seen pagans moving throughout the basilica with their swords drawn, threatening to kill our people. You would also have seen those natives who worshipped our faith entrusting their profound grief to God, both those whose prayers had drawn them from the furthest reaches of the world, and those who had come because of the miracle, all to pray singlemindedly for the gift of light. Nor was there any unsuitable delay, but the passionate request was granted swiftly. I have heard from some old men who went there that the papyrus or wick (I don't know which of them was used) was once removed by a pagan's trick, and the metal remained empty, but, by means of a miracle from heaven, when light shone from the metal, he who wanted to defraud the heavenly powers learned that natural forces fight even against their own natures for their God.

In the year that Baldwin accepted the sceptre from his predecessor, it is said that the miracle was obtained with such difficulty that night was almost upon them before their prayers and tears were answered. The priest mentioned above delivered a sermon to the people, asking for sinners to confess; the king and the priest urged them to make peace among themselves, and they promised to remedy whatever was contrary to faith and to virtue. Meanwhile, because of the urgency of the matter, so many hideous crimes were confessed that day, that if penitence did not follow, it would have seemed correct for the sacred light to have been removed without delay; however, soon after the reproof, the lamp was lit. The next year, when the time came for the celestial flame to make the tomb glorious, all men lifted up their prayers from deep within. Greeks and Syrians, Armenians and Latins, each in his own language, called upon God and his saints. The king, the leaders, and the people, with penance and grief in their hearts, marched behind the priests; all men were racked with pain, because, since the day that the city was won by the Christians, things had happened there that they had never heard of happening under the pagans. Fulker of Charters, however, taking with him the chaplain of the patriarch Daimbert, went to the Mount of Olives, where the lamp of God used to appear when it did not come to Jerusalem. When they returned, bringing nothing to please the ears of the expectant Church, many sermons were delivered to the people, which gave no solace to those who were suffering, but rather cause for anguish. That day, when the miracle did not happen, everyone returned home; there was a double night, with bitter sadness tormenting their breasts. The next day they decided to make a procession, with appropriate mourning, to the Temple of the Lord. They went, without the joy of Easter, dressed no differently from the day before, when suddenly, behind them, the keepers of the temple proclaimed that the lamp of the sacred monument was lit. Why do I delay? On that day such grace shone, augmented abundantly by the delay, that the brilliance of God illuminated, although not simulataneously, but sequentially, approximately fifty lamps. Not only during the sacred mysteries, but even when the king, after services were over, ate in the palace, messengers came frequently to summon him to leave the table to see the lights newly lit. One cannot describe how much grief was changed to relief when, on that day, he agreed to what he never had consented to before, to be crowned king in that city, in the house of the Lord, in acknowledgement of the Lord's gift.

Then the Franks, who had redeemed the city with their blood, eager to see their parents, sons, and wives, and perhaps confident in their number and bravery, decided to return to their own sweet home by the same land route they had taken when they came. Although they thought that they would be able to pass freely through the land surrounding Nicea, which they had seized earlier, the Turks, who had been placed there by the emperor once the city had been turned over to him to impede the Franks when the occasion arose, put up strenuous resistance to them. Unless I am mistaken, my priest[263] says that they cut to pieces 100,000 men, but I fear that the man is wrong in offering such a number, because it is the case that he is eager to offer such guesses elsewhere. For example, he dares to estimate that those who set out for Jerusalem numbered 6,000,000.[264] I would be surprised if all the land this side of the Alps, indeed if all the kingdoms of the West, could supply so many men, since we know for a fact that at the first battle before the walls of Nicea scarcely 100,000 fully-equipped knights are reported to have been present. And if he was concerned with including all those who had gone on the journey, but who died, on land and on the sea, of sickness or hunger, in the various regions through which they passed, they still would not amount to such a great number of men. After the Franks, then, had suffered hideous carnage, most of those who had survived returned to Jerusalem, having lost what they owned. The generous king genuinely commiserated with them, gave them many gifts, and persuaded them to return to their homeland by sea.

But the prince of Babylon, less concerned with the loss of Jerusalem than with the proximity of the Frankish settlement, set out to launch a heavy offensive against the new king, often striving to attack the port city of Acre. Count Robert of Normandy had besieged Acre when the army of the Lord was advancing to besiege Jerusalem, but duke Godfrey had brought him away, in expectation of a more successful undertaking. The Babylonian then gathered a vast army and challenged the Christian king to battle. He gathered his small band, to whom the Lord said, "Fear not,"[265] and, setting his troops in order as well as he could, he attacked the impious ones. Killing them swiftly, like brute beasts, he scattered them, like a hurricane driving dust. A second time he sent his 9000 knights forward, supported by 20,000 Ethiopean common foot-soldiers. The pious king assembled against him scarcely 1000 knights and foot-soldiers, forming seven battalions out of them, and he sent them with great confidence directly at the thickest ranks of the enemy. When the prince saw far off a pagan knight, he rushed at him with such force that he drove his spear, together with its standard, into the man's breast, and when he pulled the spear from the wound, the standard remained in the man's breast. Frightened by the courage of the prince and his men, the enemy retreated at first, but their courage returned, because of the strength of their numbers, and they united to attack our men, compelling them to think of fleeing. They said that this misfortune had happened to them because, in their foolishness, they had not brought the cross of the Lord to this battle. They said that, guided by a Syrian or some Armenian, they found this cross, which, like the Lance, had lain buried somewhere. They drew a lesson from this incident, which was more blemish of a victory in the process of being won than defeat, and when the army of the Babylonian prince, as strong as the previous one, came forward to fight for the third time, the splendid king, together with what forces he could gather, deriving his confidence from God, went up against them. After he had drawn up his troops as well as he could, the clash of men was so great that, although the armies were unequal, both sides suffered severe losses, as 6000 pagan soldiers, and 100 Christians, lay dead. And because they had no prideful concern for banners with eagles and dragons, they raised aloft the sign of the humiliating Crucifixion, the Cross, and as praiseworthy conquerors drove their enemies to flight.

When they had been driven off, as was right, he assembled as much of a larger army as he could, and surrounded the extraordinary city of Palestinian Caesarea, with no concern for the number of men, but instead for their might. Siege engines were quickly built, many ballistic machines were drawn up around the walls, and a beam with a metal front, which was called a battering ram, was put in place. Towers were prepared and moved forward at different times, whose armed men not only rained down torrents of various kinds of missiles on the Saracens who were standing on the battlements of the walls, but who also struck and slew them with their swords. There you would have seen catapults with huge rocks not only striking the external walls, but delivering the weight of harsh blows to the city's lofty palaces. As they smashed the building and walls, they also used sling-shots to scatter sticks burning with liquid lead, to set the town on fire. Meanwhile the battering-ram crashed against the walls; as it began to open a hole in the lower part of the wall, all the surrounding structures began to crack. Then, while the Franks struggled to enter, and eagerness to attack drove the Saracens to come forth, blood was shed on both sides. When one of our machines fell, killing many of our men, both sides became more courageous, for the Saracens, who do not like fighting in open combat, were remarkably competent when on the defensive. On the twentieth day of the siege, the king, supported by the best of his young knights, attacked the inhabitants fiercely, suddenly leaping from an assault tower, with one knight behind him, onto the wall, and driving the enemy into flight. The Franks swiftly followed the king, annihilating multitudes throughout the city, sparing no one, except the young women who could become slaves. Treasure was sought everywhere; they cut open not only chests, but the throats of the silent Saracens. When they were struck by a fist, their jaws yielded the besants that had been poured into them. They found pieces of gold in the wombs of the women who had used these areas for purposes other than the ones for which they were intended. A contingent of Franks was promptly left to guard the captive city, and shortly thereafter the king marched to Acre, wore it down with daily attacks, until it submitted to his authority. He is known to have captured many other cities, but since they were located in the middle of the insane pagans, he could not be sure that our colonists would be safe there. The series of battles and victories made the Saracens increasingly contemptible to the Christians; For example, here is something that we learned happened last year.

A certain knight,[266] whom the king had made prefect of the city of Tiberias, behaved insolently towards the king. Angry at the man's insolence, the king ordered him to leave the land he had been given. He hastened to leave, taking with him as his retinue two armed knights, and soon encountered a large troop of pagans. Putting his trust not in the number of his own men, but in God, he tore his shirt, which they call an undertunic, placed it as a banner on his spear, and commanded his companions to do the same. They did so, cried out loudly, spurred their horses forward, and charged headlong at their enemies. Frightened by the sudden attack, and thinking that a large army was following these men, they fled, leaving themselves mortally vulnerable to these three men. Many were killed, and more booty was taken than they could carry. Returning after this event, grateful to God, he was moved to prostrate himself before the king and he promised that he would faithfully obey him from that point on.

Once, when the king was suffering from a great lack of money, and did not have enough to pay the monthly stipend to his knights, divine mercy suddenly and miraculously granted aid. Things had become so difficult that the servants and knights were thinking of leaving, when the young men of Joppa, washing themselves, or rather enjoying a swim in the sea, on a certain day found in the swirling sand and water sacks filled with large amounts of gold, which the Venetians had lost here in a shipwreck. Brought to the king, they offered solace to everyone, an amazing miracle, both to the king, who had been close to despair, and to the new Christian community.

But since the charge has been spread about that the king repudiated his wife, here is what is said about it. His wife was descended from the finest pagans in the land, and in obedience to him, she followed her husband to Jerusalem, arriving by ship at the port of Saint-Simeon. There she was transferred to a faster ship, in an attempt to make the trip more quickly, but she was brought by unfavorable winds to certain island inhabited by Barbars. The islanders seized her, killed a bishop of her retinue, together with some other officials, and, after holding her captive for some time, finally released her. When she reached her husband, the king, suspicious, and not unreasonably, of the Barbars' sexual incontinence, banished her from his bed, changed her mode of dress, and sent her to live with other nuns in the monastery of Anne, the blessed mother of the virgin mother of God. He himself was glad to live the celibate life, because, "his struggle was not against the flesh and blood, but against the rulers of the world"[267]

Around the time of Easter last year, the knight I mentioned earlier, whom we called the prefect of Tiberiad, and who had been victorious in that battle, was involved in another encounter, less fortunate for our men, in which he was captured, and brought alive by the pagans to a city belonging to them. During I don't know which one of their sacrilegious celebrations, they brought this knight out and urged him to renounce and to abjure his own belief. Splendidly obdurate, he rejected such criminal behavior, and was horrified even to hear such a suggestion. This praiseworthy man was immediately seized, tied, as they say, to a tree that stood in the middle of a field, and was torn by a hail of arrows from all sides. The crown was then sawed from his head, and the rest was made into the form of a cup, as though to hold drinks for the king of Damascus, by whose orders these acts had been done, to frighten our men. By dying to preserve the confession of his faith, this knight made himself a martyr who would be known for ages to come. His name was Gervais, of noble blood, from the castle of Basilcas[268] in Soissons.

These are the things that, by the grace of God, we have found out from entirely reliable men up to this day. If, in following the opinions of other men, we have said anything false, we have not done so with the intention of deceiving anyone. We are grateful to God, the Redeemer of this holy City, through the efforts of our people. For when the siege of the city began, He himself revealed, to an anchorite living in Bethania, as the story has been reliably told to us, that the city would be besieged furiously, but that it would be entered on Easter day, at the hour at which Christ was brought to the cross, to demonstrate that He again redeemed it from its afflictions by the suffering of his own limbs. This anchorite then called together some of our leaders, and told them these things, which were all proven true by the manner in which the city was actually captured. We thank God for having composed these deeds with his own spirit, through our mouth. For the rest, if anyone thinks that we have not laid things out as diligently as Julius Caesar and Hirtius Pansa[269] did in the history of the Gauls, Spaniards, Pharsalians, Alexandrians, and Numidians, he should carefully consider the fact that the same people who waged the wars wrote them down. As a result, nothing general or particular that happened is omitted from their accounts. They tell how many thousands of men there were, how many from each region, who the princes were, to whom power was delegated, who the leaders and princes were on the other side, what the cavalry, what the lightly armed troops did, how many shields were pierced by javelins, and, if I may use their own words, "after the consuls and their officers had sounded the retreat," how many men were missing and wounded at the end of the battle. Since another profession detains us who write this history, and our confidence is not strengthened by what we saw, we have decided, in reporting what we have heard, to exercise restraint. Observing the discipline of the Julian Quirites,[270] the officers of the legions, the troops of cavalry, the common soldiers, and the cohorts were compelled to rally around their banners, and if the locations were favorable, and in suitable places they set up their encampments, as though they were towns or cities, with moats and towers. Before they set up battle lines, they occupied the neighboring mountains, taking into account the irregularities of the terrain, and they had large numbers of servants, workers, and expensive baggage. Since almost nothing like these arrangements and activities existed among our men, their deeds were due, I shall not say to Frankish courage, but rather to their strength and their aroused faith. Let those who wish say that I have omitted more than I have written: I prefer being less to being more. If anyone knows other things that were done, let him write what he please. We thank God and such victors, who, when they had no grain, learned to feed upon roots that they dug up. If anyone is in doubt about the name of the Parthians, whom we have called Turks, or of the Caucasus, let him read Solin on Wonders, Trogus-Pompeius on the origin of the Parthians, and Jordanus the Goth on the Getae. May God stand watch as this pious work comes to an end. -


[1] A translation into French was done more than 170 years ago by F. Guizot, in v. 9 of his <I>Collection des m<130>moires r<130>latifs a l'histoire de France<R>, Paris, 1825.
[2] John Benton, <I>Self and Society in Medieval France<R>, New York, 1970; Guibert de Nogent, <I>Autobiographie<R>, edited and translated by Edmond-Ren<130> Labande, Paris, 1981; Paul J. Archambault, <I>A Monk's Confessions<R>, University Park, 1995. The <I>Monodiae<R>, however, was also not popular in its own time. No medieval writer mentions the work, and no manuscript has survived. See Labande's edition, pp. xxiii-xxviii, for a discussion of the editorial problems that stem from being compelled to work from BN. f.l. Baluze 42. For recent discussion of Guibert, see M.D. Coupe, "The personality of Guibert de Nogent reconsidered," <I>Journal of Medieval History<R> IX, no. 4 [Dec. '83], pp. 317-329, which supplies summary and judgement of the work of J. Kantor, Benton, and others. See also Jacques Charaud, "La conception de l'histoire de Guibert de Nogent," <I>Cahiers de civilisation m<130>di<130>vale<R> VIII (1965), pp. 381-395, and Klaus Schreiner, "Discrimen veri ac falsi," <I>Archive fur Kulturgeschicht<R> XLVIII (1966), pp. 1-51. Both Charaud and Schreiner are concerned to demonstrate the degree to which Guibert's vision of history is ruled by theology, and tropology in particular; both articles can be read as respectful corrections of Bernard Monod, "De la m<130>thode historique chez Guibert de Nogent," <I>Revue historique<R> 84 (1904), pp. 51-70. Unfortunately, Laetitia Boehm's thesis, <I>Studien zur Geschichtschreibung des ersten Kreuzzuges Guibert von Nogent<R>, Munich, 1954, has remained unpublished. Georg Misch also makes an attempt to characterize Guibert, for the most part on the basis of Book One of the <I> Monodiae<R>, in <I>Geschichte der Autobiographie<R>, vol. 3, part two, first half, Frankfurt, 1959, pp. 108-162
[3] Early in the <I>Memoirs<R> Guibert says that his father died eight months after his own birth; later he gives the time between his birth and his father's death as scarcely six months; in both instances he neglects to give the year.
[4] Characteristics at work also in his other writings; see Guibert's <I>De pignoribus sanctorum<R> (Migne PL 156.607-684) for an extended attack on those who believe in the wrong relics.
[5] <I>Journal of Medieval History<R> 2 (1976), p. 299 (of pp. 281-303).
[6] See Louis Br<130>hier's edition and translation, <I>Histoire anonyme de la premi<138>re croisade<R>, Paris, 1924; for a later edition, see Rosalind Hill, <I>Gesta Francorum<R>, London, New York, 1962.
[7] Baldric of Dole and Robert the Monk also insistently added to the story of the First Crusade what Riley-Smith (pp. 135-153) calls "theological refinement."
[8] Br<130>hier 119-125.
[9] Br<130>hier 155.
[10] Brehier 133-135.
[11] For a preliminary study of Guibert's diction, see Eitan Burstein, "Quelques remarques <133> propos du vocabulaire de Guibert de Nogent," <I>Cahiers de civilisation m<130>di<130>vale<R>, XXI (1978), pp. 247-263.
[12] <I>La tradition manuscrite de Guibert de Nogent<R>, The Hague, 1991, p. 20. Last year, however, in a note informing me of the impending publication of his edition of the <Gesta Dei>, Professor Huygens reported that he has changed his mind. The latest modern edition is more than 100 years old, <I>(Recueil des Historiens des Croisades, Historiens Occidentaux<R> IV, Paris, 1879, pp. 115-263), and Professor Huygens, the latest reader of the eight surviving manuscripts of the <I>Gesta Dei per Francos<R>, finds the edition pretentious, orthographically aberrant, and of no philological value whatever.
[13] Guibert perhaps has some support for this preference: In Praeloq. 2.30 212A Rather of Verona quotes Ambrose on interpreting the difficulties of scripture: <I>quod difficilius invenitur, dulcius tenetur<R>."
[14] 339, n. 3
[15] 1973 613.
[16]p. 255.
[17] <I>De Moribus et Actis primorum Normanniae Ducum<R>, ed. Jules Lair, Caen, 1865.
[18] (eds.) J. Olrik and H. Raeder, <I>Saxonis Gest Danorum<R>, 1931, 1957, Hauniae, 2 vols. <I>The History of the Danes<R>, translated by Peter Fisher, ed. H.E. Davidson, Totowa, 1979, 1981, 2 vols.
[19] For the significance and influence of Martianus, see W.H. Stahl, R. Johnson, and E.L. Burge, <I>Martianus Capella and the Seven Liberal Arts<R>, NY, 1971; Danut Shanzer, <I>A philosophical and literary commentary on Martianus Capella's De Nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurri, book one <R>, Berkeley, 1986.
[20] For a densely compacted discussion of this hypothesis, see Herbert Grundmann, <I>Geschichtsschreibung im Mittelalters<R>, G<148>ttingen, 1965. For a more extensive, lavishly detailed discussion, see Bernard Guenee, <I>Histoire et culture historique dans l'occident m<130>di<130>val<R>, Paris, 1980. In English, the argument was popularized by R.G. Collingwood, <I>The Idea of History<R>, Oxford, 1946; p. 258 gives a useful formulation.
[21] Aimon's early eleventh-century rewriting of both Gregory of Tours sixth-century text and the eighth-century <I>Liber Historiae Francorum<R> is only roughly comparable, since he was much further removed in time from the authors whose work he was correcting. See Gregory of Tours, <I>Historiae Francorum<R>, edited by W. Arndt and Bruno Krusch, <I>Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Scriptores Rerum Merovingicarum<R>, vol. I, Hanover, 1885; Aimon, <I>De Gestis Francorum<R>, pp. 20-143 of <I>Recueil des historiens des Gaules et de l France<R>, ed. M. Bouquet, vol. III, 1869, pp. 20-143; Bruno Krusch, <I>Fredegarii et Aliorum Chronica; Monumenta Germaniae Historica<R>: Scriptorum Rerum Merovingicarum, Hanover, 1888.
[22] Two editions are available: <I>Recueil des Historiens des Croisades, Historiens Occidentaux<R> III, Paris, 1866, pp. 319-585; <I>Fulcheri Carnotensis Histori Hierosolymitana<R>, ed. Heinrich Hagenmayer. Heidelberg, 1913.
[23] A judgement contained within the less sardonic assessment, almost nine hundred years later, by Ernest Baker, who called Fulcher, "a kindly old pedant," in the <I>Encyclopaedia Britannica<R>, 11th edition, Cambridge, 1910.
[24] Guibert decision to insert verses of his own composition, in a variety of meters, some unusual, in his predominantly prose text, also seems to be an attempt to outdo Fulker, who had chosen to compose occasional verse for his predominantly prose text, although he limited himself to hexameters and elegaics.
[25] Quod ego Fulcherus Carnotensis, cum ceteris iens peregrinis, postea, sicut oculis meis perspexi, diligenter et sollicite in memoriam posteris collegi. (RHC.HO III.327) The case for the <I>Gesta Francorum<R> as a text composed by an eye-witness is inferential only.
[26] Isidore of Seville, <I>Etymologies<R>, I, XLI, ed. W.M Lindsay, Oxford, 1911. See also Bernard Guen<130>e on the topos of the eye-witness, in <I>Histoire et culture historique dans l'occident m<130>di<130>val<R>, Paris, 1980. For a paradigmatic example of the difficulties generated by trying to determine whether a medieval text of an historical nature is the product of an eyewitness, see Stubbs' argument (Rolls Series 38.1) that the <I>Itinerarium Regis Ricardi<R> is the product of an eyewitness of the Third Crusade, then Gaston Paris' argument that <I>L'Estoire de la guerre sainte<R>, Paris, 1897 is the eye-witness account that the author of the <I>Itinerarium<R> was translating, and then Hans Eberhard Mayer, <I>Das Itinerarium peregrinorum<R>, Stuttgart, 1962, for the argument that neither is an eye-witness account; see also the discussion in M.R. Morgan, <I>The Chronicle of Ernoul and the Continuations of William of Tyre<R>, Oxford, 1973, pp. 61 ff..
[27] See E.R. Curtius, <I>European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages<R>, New York, 1953, pp. 83-85.
[28] Translation by Rosalind Hill, London, 1962, p. 44.
[29] Translated by H. Rushton Fairclough, <I>Horace<R>, London, 1966, p. 465.
[30] Guibert's behavior in this respect suggests that the anxiety of influence which Harold Bloom assigned primarily to the English Romantic poets existed earlier and more extensively ( <I>Anxiety of Influence<R>, Oxford, 1973).
[31] III Reg xii.10; II Par x.10.
[32] Book VII, p. 239.
[33] See Appendix A.
[34] Jeremiah III.27,28.
[35] A term Paul Zumthor introduced in "Roman et Gothique," in <I>Studi in honore di Italo Siciliano<R>, Florence, 1966, vol. II, p. 1227.
[36] For evidence that Guibert was remarkably fastidious in his attitude towards his literary production, or at least towards three of his theological compositions, see Monique-Cecile Garand, "Le Scriptorium de Guibert de Nogent," <I>Scriptorium<R> 31 (1977), pp. 3-29.
[37] See Robert Levine, "Satiric Vulgarity in Guibert de Nogent's <I>Gesta Dei per Francos," Rhetorica<R> 7 (1989), pp. 261-273.
[38] Although he calls the Pope a fine Latinist, instead of giving Urban's words at Clermont, Guibert rewrites them, <I>etsi non verbis, tamen intentionibus<R>, "not word for word, but according to what he meant." For an attempt, on the basis of the various surviving representations of Urban's performance at Clermont, to determine what the Pope actuually said, see D.C. Munro, "The Speech of Pope Urban II at Clermont," <I>American Historical Review<R> XI (1906), pp. 231-242. For objections to Munro's technique, see Paul Rousset, <I>Les origines et les caracteres de la premiere croisade<R>, Geneva, 1945, p. 58.
[39] See W. Porges, "The Clergy, the Poor, and the Non-Combatants on the First Crusade," <I>Speculum<R> 21 (1946), pp. 1-20; Jean Flori, "Faut-il r<130>habiliter Pierre l'Ermite?" <I>Cahier de civilisation m<130>di<130>vale<R> XXXVIII (1995), pp. 35-54.
[40] See Appendix A.
[41] Labande, I.xvii, pp. 135 ff..
[42] A task for which Heinrich Hagenmeyer's <I>Chronologie de la premi<138>re croisade<R>, Hildesheim, 1898-1901, provides a sound basis.
[43] Whenever possible, the modern spellings are taken from the Gazetteer provided in <I>A History of the Crusades<R>,, ed. by Kenneth M. Setton and M.W. Baldwin, Madison, 1969, vol. I, pp. 626-666.
[44] <I>paregorizantis<R>, "curative," a rare word, used by Augustine.
[45] Horace AP 105.
[46] One of the names of Mars.
[47] Literally, never goes beyond Mercurial moderation.
[48] An area in northeast Persia, but used as a general term for the Near East by the Western chroniclers of the First Crusade.
[49] Gnaeus Trogus Pompeius, a contemporary of Livy, wrote 44 books, of which only an epitome by Justin survives.
[50] I Kings xii.10; II Chronicles x.10.
[51] Translation by J.D. Duff, <I>Lucan<R>, Cambridge, 1969. "of one's own blood," is the more literal translation.
[52] Lucan I. 8,9,12.
[53] Albert of Aix uses the same comparison several times within one paragraph to describe the joys of the Crusaders about to attack Ascalon: they are <I>tanquam ad convivium pergentes laetati<R>, then the pagan prefect of Ramna, noticing that the Christians are singing and rejoicing, <I>tanquam ad epulas omnium deliciarum invitati essent<R>, remarks: Miror, et sufficienter mirari nequeo unde populus hic in tanta laetitia et voce exultationis glorietur, quasi ad convivium iturus. (RHC IV.492)
[54] That is, children.
[55] Proverbs xxx.27.
[56] The first printed edition offers <I>genuinae<R>, where MS A offers <I>geminae<R>.
[57] That is, Helena.
[58] Psalm 63.7
[59] Genesis III.17,18.
[60] Died c. 336 A.D..
[61] Died c. 274 A.D.
[62] Ephesians 5.27.
[63] A.D. 249-251.
[64] buccella intinctio.
[65] Iznik (Turkish).
[66] abortivis ? _________
[67] Jacob V.4.
[68] Psalm 80.13.
[69] Psalm 9.21
[70] Psalm 146 (147)20
[71] Robert I, count of Flanders, 1071-1093. The letter is printed in <I>Epistulae et chartae ad historiam primi belli sacri sectantes<R>, edited by Heinrich Hagenmayer, Innsbruck, 1901, pp. 129-136
[72] Michael VII Ducas, Parapinaces, 1071-1078.
[73] He was the son of Eucherius, master of Lageri.
[74] Elected abbot of Cluny in 1049.
[75] Odo, nephew of Urban II.
[76] Stephen II, 752-757; Zacharias, 741-752.
[77] Pepin compelled Astolphus to restore Ravenna and other cities to Stephen in 755.
[78] Last Lombard king, 756-774.
[79] A reference to the struggle between Emperor Henry IV and Gregory VII; see Uta-Renate Blumenthal, <I> The Investiture Controversy<R> Philadelphia, 1988.
[80] Paschal came to France in 1107, with Philip I on the throne. Isidore of Seville (IX.ii.101) offers two derivations for "Franks." <I>Franci a quodam proprio duce vocari putantur. Alii eos a feritate morum nuncupatos existimant<R> The archdeacon of Mainz clearly was referring to their animal-like behavior.
[81] Jeremiah III.27,28.
[82] An error by Guibert or by the scribe; the council of Clermont began 18 November, 1095.
[83] Sidonius Apollinarus uses <I>piperata facundia<R> in Book VIII, epistle xi, of the <I>Poems and Letters<R>, ed. W.B. Anderson, Cambridge, 1984, vol I.
[84] Mathew 27.53.
[85] Isaiah 11.10.
[86] Eccl. 1.7
[87] II Thess. ii.4
[88] II Thess ii.3
[89] Luke xxi.24.
[90] John VII.6
[91] II Thess ii.3.
[92] Isaiah 43.5.
[93] Presumably Peter and Paul.
[94] Psalm 47.8.
[95] Psalm 77.7.
[96] These seven elegiacs are the first verses Guibert inserts in the <I> Gesta Dei<R>.
[97] Rom X.2
[98] Classical Latin for a conical column.
[99] In French, <I>moisson<R> means "harvest."
[100] Izmit, on the sea of Marmara. The <I>Gest Francorum<R> begins here. A more specific account of the difficulties that produced the separation from the Franks can be found in Albert of Aix, RHC IV.284.
[101] Franci a quodam proprio duce vocari putantur. Alii eos a feritate morum nuncupatos existimant. Sunt enim in illis mores inconditi, naturalis ferocitas animorum. The French are thought to derive their name from one of their leaders. Others think that they derive their name from the ferocity of their behavior. For they are naturally fierce. (Isidore of Seville, Etymologies, ____________ ed. W.M. Lindsay, Oxford, 1962, vol. 2).
[102] Asia Minor, or the entire Byzantine empire.
[103] Xerigordo, according to Anna Comnena; today, Eski-Kaled.
[104] September 29, 1096.
[105] Guibert here rejects the perhaps more pathetic scene in the <I>Gesta Francorum<R> (Brehier 8): <I> alii mingebant in pugillo alterius et bibebant<R>.
[106] Eight elegiacs.
[107] Ten elegiacs.
[108] Sometimes given the epithet, <I> sine habere<R>, "the Penniless."
[109] Gemlik, now abandoned.
[110] Iznick, on the lake of the same name.
[111] Twelve Asclepiadeans. At this point, the <I>Gest Francorum<R> gives only <I>quemdam sacerdotem missam celebrantem, quem statim super altare martirizaverunt<R>, "a priest celebrating mass, whom they immediately martyred on the altar."
[112] Two dactyls, the second line borrowed from Horace, Sat I.97.
[113] Durazzo.
[114] This single elegiac may contain a scribal error, confusing Alemannus with Lemanus (Lake Geneva). The epitaph reads: Hic terror mundi Guiscardus, hic expulit urbe Quem Ligures regem, Roma, Alemannus habet. Parthus, Arabs, Macedumque phalanx non texit Alexim, At fuga; sed Venetum, nec fuga, nec pelagus.
[115] A single dactylic hexameter.
[116] In the Latin, <I>de prima civitate Richardum<R>, glossed (p. 152) as <I>Richardum de Principatu, vel Principem<R>.
[117] Edirne (Turkish) in Bulgaria.
[118] Today, the Vardar.
[119] Ash Wednesday.
[120] Today, Ruskujan.
[121] "outside of the city wall" is my version of <I> brugo<R>, uninhabited land, a field not under cultivation.
[122] Suetoniuis, Caesar 80: Gallias Caesar subegit, Nicomedes Caesarem.
[123] For whatever facts can be assembled about the siege, see R. Rogers, <I> Latin Siege Warfare in the Twelfth Century<R>, Oxford, 1992, pp. 16-25.
[124] Four dactylic hexameters.
[125] Tomyris dips Cyrus' head in a bag of blood in Herodotus I CCV. Tibullus (IV.i.143 ff.) alludes to the story, and Valerius Maximus (IX.x) uses the story to illustrate vengeance.
[126] 99 Adonic verses kata stichon, followed by 13 dactylic hexameters.
[127] Lamentations II.9
[128] Matthew XX.12.
[129] Two dactylic hexameters.
[130] Three dactylic hexameters.
[131] Fourteen elegiacs.
[132] The <I>Gesta Francorum<R> had given the number as 360,000, Anselm of Ribemont as 260,000. (Brehier 49).
[133] An elegiac couplet.
[134] Deut XXXII.30.
[135] Kilidj-Arslan
[136] one hexameter.
[137] Spikes of cactus, perhaps, or making flour?
[138] Konya (Turkish).
[139] Ereghli (Turkish)
[140] One dactylic hexameter.
[141] Paul.
[142] Adana.
[143] Mamistra (medieval), Mopsuestia (classical), Msis (Armenian), Misis (Turkish).
[144] Thoros.
[145] Selevgia (West Armenian), Silifke (Turkish).
[146] Horace <I>Ars Poetica<R> 180-181.
[147] John III.32
[148] Kayseri
[149] Placentia, or Comana.
[150] Goksun.
[151] Riha, perhaps.
[152] Rouveha, perhaps.
[153] Marash
[154] Oct 21, 1097
[155] Aregh
[156] Sallust, Jugurtha 85.
[157] Aleppo.
[158] Eleven stanzas of sapphics.
[159] Lucan I.135.
[160] i.e., become emaciated
[161] Fourteen heptameters.
[162] Juvenal 6.443.
[163] Fourteen dactylic hexameters."
[164] Seven dactylic hexameters.
[165] February 9.
[166] Two dactylic hexameters.
[167] Rom X.2.
[168] Sultan.
[169] Psalm 81.8.
[170] Psalm 78.6.
[171] Psalm 92.3.
[172] Romans 9.25
[173] I Mac. v.62.
[174] Acts IX.25; II Cor XI.33
[175] Sixteen dactylic hexameters.
[176] One dactylic hexameter.
[177] Scatter them that they may know that no other than you, our Lord fights for us. Scatter them by your power, and destroy them, our protector, Lord. (Eccl. xxxvi.1)
[178] Iskenderum.
[179] Aksehir.
[180] Hebrews XII.6.
[181] Or "miracle" in B.
[182] Miraculous intervention at this point is reported also in the <I>Gesta Francorum<R>, (Brehier 154), and in a letter published by Hagenmayer (<I>Epistulae et Chartae<R> 167), but neither Raymond nor Fulcher mention it.
[183] Malach.III.10
[184] August 1, 1098.
[185] IV Kings.v.12
[186] At this point manuscript I adds: Jerome says, in the fifth book of his explication of Isaiah, that Antioch was the city of Reblata, in which king Nabugodonosor tore out the eyes of king Sedechia, and killed his sons.
[187] Latin for "red."
[188] Ma'arrat-an-Nu'man.
[189] Kafartab.
[190] Rafaniya.
[191] Abou Ali Ibn Ammar.
[192] Raymond, vicount of Torena.
[193] Job 2.4
[194] Latakia.
[195] Djebali
[196] Among the Romans, <I>iustitium<R> was a day on which no business can be undertaken due to natural disaster
[197] Judges XVII.6.
[198] Manassas II of Chatillon died in 1106. Anselm's letters have survived and appear in <I>Epistulae et chartae ad historiam primi belli sacri spectantes<R>, ed. Heinrich Hagenmeyer, Innsbruck, 1901, pp. 144-146 and 156-160.
[199] October 31.
[200] Botron.
[201] Jubail.
[202] Nahir-Ibrahim.
[203] Saida.
[204] I Kings 17.9.
[205] Tyre.
[206] Ramla.
[207] I Kings I.
[208] Robert, a Norman cleric.
[209] Psalm 21.30.
[210] John IX.7.
[211] Guibert has elided the assertion in the <I>Gest Francorum<R> that the Arabs had poisoned the wells, substituting instead these remarks sympathetic to the class from which he sprung.
[212] Joshua VI.20.
[213] The author of the <I>Gesta Francorum<R> gives his name as Gaston Bearn.
[214] Part of a dactylic hexameter couplet.
[215] Three elegiac lines.
[216] Two dactylic hexameters.
[217] Psalms 121.1.
[218] 48 iambic trimeters.
[219] Guibert multiplies the single <I>nuntius<R> of the <I>Gesta Francorum<R> into <I>legati<R>.
[220] Sichem, then Flavia Neapolis, then Nabulus.
[221] Arnulf of Martirano.
[222] The <I>Gesta Francorum<R> reports the presence of the animals without attributing them to any Arabian design.
[223] One dactylic hexameter.
[224] Two dactylic hexameters.
[225] Psalm 92.4.
[226] Three dactylic hexameters.
[227] Isaiah 43.5.
[228] Zech 12.2.
[229] Galatians 2.2.
[230] Zechariah 12.2.
[231] Zechariah 12.3.
[232] Zechariah 12.3.
[233] Luke 21.24.
[234] Ezekiel 29.18.
[235] Zechariah 12.4.
[236] Zechariah 12.4.
[237] Zechariah.12.5.
[238] Zechariah 12.6.
[239] Zechariah 12.6.
[240] Zechariah 12.7
[241] Zechariah 12.8.
[242] Zechariah 12.8.
[243] Zechariah 12.9.
[244] Psalm 2.8.
[245] Apoc 2.27; 19.15.
[246] Zecharia 12.10.
[247] 5.5.
[248] It is not clear what this province is. The RHC editor tentatively suggests "Isauria."
[249] Judges VI, VII, VIII.
[250] Terence <I>Eunuch<R> 4.6.6.
[251] Hebrews 13 II.
[252] Three times in the course of the last book of the <I>Gesta Dei<R> Guibert finds something positive in the absence of Western kings on the expedition to Jerusalem. Among the practical reasons for their absence: (1) Philip I and the Holy Roman Emperor were excommunicate at the time; (2) William Rufus was anticlerical and otherwise occupied; (3) the Italian rulers were absorbed with local problems.
[253] Lucan I.135.
[254] Ecclesiasticus 11.5.
[255] Horace, Ars Poetica 97.
[256] Robert the Monk, RHC.HO III, p. 794, provides a longer passage on Gualo.
[257] In Terence's <I>Eunuch<R> (I.ii.105), the slave Parmeno says he can keep silent about the truth, but must immediately speak (or leak) what is a lie.
[258] RHC IV 149F.
[259] 1066-1118.
[260] 1104.
[261] One dactylic hexameter.
[262] Numbers XX.2-13; XXIII.38.
[263] Fulker.
[264] In RHC, p. 333, Fulker mentions 600,000.
[265] Luke 12.32.
[266] The <I>Gesta Francorum<R> gives his name: Gervais de Bazoches.