1,49 €
The student of human nature, also, will find here his most subtle and perplexing, but at the same time his most suggestive, subjects. Never before or since was there such exalted faith combined with such grotesque superstition, such splendid self-sacrifice mingled with cruel and unrestrained selfishness, such holy purpose with its wings entangled, torn, and besmeared in vicious environments.
To the historical scholar this period is unsurpassed in importance by any, if we except the days of the birth of Christianity. The age of the crusades covers the eleventh and twelfth centuries. For two hundred years, to use the vigorous language of the Greek princess Anna Comnena, who witnessed the first crusade, “Europe was loosened from its foundations and hurled against Asia.” As an Alpine glacier presses down into the valley, only to melt away at the summer line, yet with renewed snows repeals the fatal experiment from year to year, so seven times Western Christendom replenished its mighty armaments, to see them destroyed at the border-land of Oriental conquest.
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THE AGE OF THE CRUSADES
BY
JAMES M. LUDLOW
© 2024 Librorium Editions
ISBN : 9782385746186
Bibliography .
CHAP. I.—Introductory—Outline of Study.—Problem of the Crusades.—Outline of Preliminary Study .
CHAP. II.—State of Society—Ignorance—Dulness of Life—Superstition—Low Sense of Justice—Cruelty—Taste for War.—Sporadic Culture—Great Men.—Budding Art.—Ignorance—Few Industries—Degradation.—Narrow Limitation of Life.—Superstition.—Laws—Private Combat—The Ordeal.—Hardness of Manners—Brutality.—Cruelties.—Love of War.—Cruelty of Greeks .
CHAP. III.—Chivalry—Rules—Education of Knight—Ceremonies—Influence on Character.—Rules of Chivalry.—Rites.—Defects . .
CHAP. IV.—The Feudal System—General Principles—Influence on People.—Minute Subdivision of Europe.—Baronial Independence.—Bondage of the Masses.—Communes.—Feudalism and the Crusades . . .
CHAP. V.—The Impoverished Condition of Europe.—Pauperism at Home.—Plenty Abroad . . .
CHAP. VI.—The Papal Policy—Demoralization of the World and the Church—Hildebrand’s Purpose Inherited by his Successors.—Corruption of the Papacy.—Hildebrand’s Plan of Reform.—Previous Prestige of the Papacy . .
CHAP. VII.—The Mohammedan Menace—The Rise of Islam—Saracens—Turks.—The Doctrine of Islam.—Koran and Caliphate.—Rapid Conquest by the Saracens.—Saracens among Christians.—The Turks.—Conquest by the Turks .
CHAP. VIII.—Pilgrimages—Origin and Growth of the Custom—Extent.—Rise of the Custom of Pilgrimage.—Pilgrim Superstitions.—Incentives to Pilgrimage .
THE STORY OF THE CRUSADES.
CHAP. IX.—The Story of the Crusades.—The Summons—Peter the Hermit—Pope Urban—Popular Excitement.—Peter the Hermit.—Universal Enthusiasm.—Europe Swarms Eastward .
THE FIRST CRUSADE.
CHAP. X.—The First Crusade.—The Crusade of the Crowd.—Walter the Penniless.—Peter.—Gottschalk.—Volkman.—Emico.—General Disaster .
CHAP. XI.—The Crusade under the Chieftains, Godfrey, Raymond, Bohemond, Tancred, Hugh, Robert of Normandy.—Godfrey.—Raymond.—Bohemond.—Tancred.—Hugh.—Robert of Normandy.—Various Routes of the Chieftains.—Character of Alexius—Fear of Latins .
CHAP. XII.—The Fall of Nicæa.—Contrast of Christian and Moslem Soldier.—Capture of Nicæa—Treachery of Alexius .
CHAP. XIII.—Battle of Dorylæum—Tarsus—Defection of Baldwin.—Victory of Dorylæum.—Capture of Tarsus.—Baldwin Seizes Edessa .
CHAP. XIV.—Before Antioch.—The Crusaders before Antioch.—Discouragement of the Christians.—Exploits.—Battles of Children .
CHAP. XV.—The Fall of Antioch.—Treachery of Phirous.—Capture of Antioch .
CHAP. XVI.—The Holy Lance.—Kerbogha Invests Antioch.—The Holy Lance.—Kerbogha Routed.—The Holy Lance Discredited .
CHAP. XVII.—On to Jerusalem.—The Crusaders Enter Palestine.—On to Jerusalem .
CHAP. XVIII.—The Capture of Jerusalem.—Suffering before Jerusalem.—Procession around the City.—Final Assault.—Christian Cruelty.—Jerusalem Despoiled .
CHAP. XIX.—Godfrey, First Baron of the Holy Sepulchre—Conquest of the Land—The Kingdom of Jerusalem.—Godfrey’s Rule.—Victory at Ascalon.—Return of Crusaders.—Godfrey’s Prowess.—Death of Godfrey .
CHAP. XX.—Baldwin I., King of Jerusalem.—Baldwin I., King of Jerusalem.—Ruse of Bohemond.—Death of Tancred .
CHAP. XXI.—King Baldwin II.—King Foulque—King Baldwin III.—Exploits of Zenghi—Rise of Nourredin.—Reign of Baldwin II.—King Foulque.—King Baldwin III.—Fall of Edessa .
CHAP. XXII.—Military Orders—Hospitallers—Templars—Teutonic Knights.—The Hospitallers.—Templars.—Teutonic Knights .
CHAP. XXIII.—Europe between the First and Second Crusades—Kingship in France—Papal Aggrandizement—Abélard—Arnold of Brescia—Bernard.-Kingship in France.—Abélard.—Arnold of Brescia.—Bernard’s Influence .
THE SECOND CRUSADE.
CHAP. XXIV.—The Second Crusade.—Bernard—Conrad III.—Louis VII.—Suger—Siege of Damascus.—Bernard Preaches Crusade.—Start of French and Germans.—Disastrous Beginning.—The Kings Reach Palestine.—Divisions among Crusaders.—Abbé Suger .
CHAP. XXV.—Nourredin—Rise of Saladin—King Guy—Queen Sibylla.—Nourredin.—Baldwin.—Amaury.—Rise of Saladin.—Baldwin IV.—Sibylla and King Guy .
CHAP. XXVI.—Battle of Tiberias—Fall of Jerusalem.—The Field of Tiberias.—Crusaders’ Overthrow at Tiberias.—Fall of Jerusalem.—Magnanimity of Saladin .
CHAP. XXVII.—Europe between the Second and Third Crusades—Superstition—The Waldenses—Degradation of the Papacy—France under Louis—England under Henry II.—Richard Cœur de Lion.—Superstition.—Waldenses.—France—England.—Richard Cœur de Lion.—Coronation of Richard I.—Richard’s Cruelty .
THE THIRD CRUSADE.
CHAP. XXVIII.—The Third Crusade.—William of Tyre—Barbarossa.—Call to Crusade.—Frederick Barbarossa.—Bombast of Champions.—Death of Frederick Barbarossa .
CHAP. XXIX.—Siege of Acre.—The Siege of Acre .
CHAP. XXX.—The Coming of Philip Augustus and Richard—Fall of Acre.—Sea Voyage of the English.—Richard Arrives in Palestine.—Crusaders Take Acre.—Finesse of Richard and Saladin.—Assassins.—Richard Retreats.—Peace with Saladin.—Captivity of Richard.—Death of Saladin .
CHAP. XXXI.—Palestine after the Third Crusade—Henry VI.—Siege of Thoron.—Various Minor Crusades.—Siege of Thoron.—Discouragement of Christendom .
THE FOURTH CRUSADE.
CHAP. XXXII.—The Fourth Crusade.—History and Condition of Constantinople.—Weakness of Greek Emperors.—Foreign Aggressions.—Antipathy of Europeans.—Riches of Constantinople.—Suburban Wealth .
CHAP. XXXIII.—The Summons to the Fourth Crusade—Contract with Venice—Egypt the Destination—Philip of Swabia.—Fulque.—Venetian Ships Hired.—Crusaders to Attack Egypt.—Inducement to Divert Crusade .
CHAP. XXXIV.—The Plot for the Diversion of the Crusade—Capture of Zara.—Dandolo’s Treachery.—Fleet Sails against Zara.—Revolt of Crusaders.—Young Alexius’s Promises .
CHAP. XXXV.—On to Constantinople—Capture of Galata.—Voyage to Constantinople.—Protest of the Greek Emperor.—Capture of the Golden Horn .
CHAP. XXXVI.—Constantinople Secured to Isaac and Young Alexius—Usurpation of Mourtzouphlos.—Assault upon the City.—Flight of Alexius.—Isaac Restored.—Young Alexius Coemperor.—Great Fire.—Mourtzouphlos.—Latins Attempt the Sovereignty .
CHAP. XXXVII.—Capture of Constantinople.—Fall of Constantinople.—Plunder of the City.—Nicetas.—Relics Stolen .
CHAP. XXXVIII.—Founding the Latin Kingdom of Constantinople.—Baldwin Elected Emperor.—Fatal Influence of the Fourth Crusade .
CHAP. XXXIX.—Between the Fourth and Fifth Crusades—Condition of East and West—The Children’s Crusade.—Eastern Disasters.—John of Brienne.—The Children’s Crusade .
THE FIFTH CRUSADE.
CHAP. XL.—The Fifth Crusade.—Disaster of Marietta.—Start of the Crusaders.—Assault of Mount Tabor.—Damietta.—The Affair of Damietta.—Pelagius.—Francis of Assisi.—Disaster at Damietta .
THE SIXTH CRUSADE.
CHAP. XLI.—The Sixth Crusade.—Frederick II. and Pope Gregory IX.—Pope Gregory IX.—Papal Anathema of Frederick.—Frederick Acquires Jerusalem.—Return of Frederick.—Popular Discontent with the Pope . .
CHAP. XLII.—Between the Sixth and Seventh Crusades.—The Tartars.—The Carismian Invasion.—Tartars.—Carismians.—Carismians at Jerusalem and Gaza .
THE SEVENTH CRUSADE.
CHAP. XLIII.—The Seventh Crusade.—St. Louis.—Innocent IV. and Frederick.—St. Louis.—Personal Qualities.—Piety of Louis.—Takes the Cross.—Louis’s Zeal for Crusade.—Delay at Cyprus.—Victory at Damietta.—Vice and Strife among the Victors.—Sultana Chegger-Eddour.—Foolhardiness of D’Artois.—Disaster at Mansourah.—Horrors of the Christian Retreat.—Heroism of Marguerite and Louis.—Massacre of the Sultan.—Escape of Louis to Acre.—Louis Lingers in Palestine.—Louis Returns to France .
THE EIGHTH CRUSADE.
CHAP. XLIV.—The Eighth Crusade.—Death of St. Louis—Fall of Acre.—Bibars Sultan.—Louis Reënlists.—Death of St. Louis.—The Fall of Acre .
RESULTS OF THE CRUSADES.
CHAP. XLV.—Results of the Crusades.—Kingship.—Unity of Europe.—The Papacy.—Liberal Thought.—Increased Knowledge.—Arts.—Literature.—Commerce—The Turkish Power.—Growth of European Kingdoms.—Unity of Europe.—Prestige of the Papacy.—Lost Prestige of the Papacy.—Popular Liberty.—Arts.—Education.—Commerce.—Wealth.—Rise of Ottomans .
I. PRINTED COLLECTIONS OF THE SOURCES OF THE HISTORY OF THE CRUSADES.
The sources of the history of the crusades will be found collected in the following works, to which reference is made in the entries which follow:
Jacobus Bongarsius: Gesta Dei per Francos, sive orientalium expeditionum, et regni Francorum Hierosolimitani historia (ab a. 1095 ad 1420) a variis, sed illius ævi scriptoribus, litteris commendata; Hanoviæ [Hanau], 1611, fol.
Martin Bouquet: Rerum Gallicarum et Francicarum scriptores. Recueil des historiens des Gaules et de la France; Paris, 1738-1876, 23 vols.
François Pierre Guillaume Guizot: Collection des mémoires relatifs à l’histoire de France depuis la fondation de la monarchie française jusqu’au 13. siècle; Paris, 1823-35, 31 vols., 8vo.
Jacques Paul Migne: I., Patrologiæ Latinæ, tom. i.-ccxxi.
Jacques Paul Migne: II., Patrologiæ Græcæ, tom. i.-clxi.
Jacques Paul Migne: III., Patrologiæ Græcæ Latine tantum editæ, tom. i.-lxxxi.
Recueil des historiens des croisades, publié par les soins de l’Académie des inscriptions et belles-lettres; Paris, Imprimerie nationale, 1841 sqq.; vol. xv., 1895.
Paul E. D. Riant: Expéditions et pèlerinages des Scandinaves en Terre-Sainte au temps des croisades; Paris, Imprimerie Lainé et Havard, 1865-69, 2 vols. ( vol. ii. being tables).
Paul E. D. Riant: Inventaire critique des lettres historiques des croisades, ... 786-1100; Paris, 1880 (in Archives de l’Orient latin, vol. i.; Paris, 1881).
II. THE PRINCIPAL SOURCES OF THE HISTORY OF THE CRUSADES.
Albert of Aix (Albertus Aquensis): Historia Hierosolymitana. A.D. 1095-1121 (in Recueil. Hist. occid., iv., pp. 265-713; and in Migne, Pat. Lat., clxvi., col. 389-716. French translation in Guizot, Collection, xx., xxi.).
Baldric, Archbishop of Dol (Baldricus Andegavensis, later archiepiscopus Dolensis): Historiæ Hierosolymitanæ libri iv. A.D. 1095-99 (in Recueil. Hist. occid., iv., pp. 1-111; and in Migne, Pat. Lat., clxvi., col. 1057-1152).
Anna Comnena: Alexiadis libri xv. A.D. 1069-1118 (in Recueilt] Histor. grecs, i., 2, pp. 65-179; and in Migne [Greek tex. and Latin translation], Pat. Græc. cxxxi., col. 79-1212. Latin translation also in Migne, Pat. Græc. Lat., lxviii., col. 903-1516).
Ekkehard of Urach (Ekkehardus Uraugiensis): Hierosolymita. A.D. 1095-1187 (in Recueil. Hist. occid., v., pp. 1-40; and in Migne, Pat. Lat., cliv., col. 1059-62).
Foulcher of Chartres (Fulcherius Carnotensis): Gesta Francorum Jherusalem peregrinantium. A.D. 1095-1127 (in Recueil. Hist. occid., iii., pp. 311-485; and in Migne, Pat. Lat., clv., col. 825-940. French translation in Guizot, Collection, xxiv., pp. 1-275).
Gilo: Historia gestorum viæ nostri temporis Hierosolymitanæ libri iv. A.D. 1095-99 (in Migne, Pat. Lat., clv., col. 943-994).
Guibert of Nogent (Guibertus, abbas monast. s. Mariæ Novigenti): Historia Hierosolymitana quæ dicitur Gesta Dei per Francos, libri viii. A.D. 1095-1110 (in Recueil. Hist. occid., iv., pp. 115-263; also in Migne, Pat. Lat., clvi., col. 679-838. French translation in Guizot, Collection, ix., pp. 1-338).
Prince de Joinville: Histoire de Saint Louys, IX. du nom, roy de France (in Bouquet, xx., pp. 191-304. Numerous other editions, e.g., Wailly, with translation in modern French; Paris, Didot, 1874. English translation in Bohn’s Antiquarian Library, Chronicles of the Crusades).
Raymond of Agiles (Raimundus de Agiles): Historia Francorum qui ceperunt Hierusalem a. 1095 ad 1099 (in Recueil. Hist. occid., iii., pp. 235-309; and in Migne, Pat. Lat., clv., col. 591-668. French translation in Guizot, Collection, xxi., pp. 227-397).
Tudebod (Tudebodus): Historia de Hierosolymitano itinere ab a. 1095 ad 1099, libri v. (in Recueil. Hist. occid., iii., pp. 1-117; and in Migne, Pat. Lat., clv., col. 763-823. French translation, Mémoires de l’historien Pierre Tudebode sur son pèlerinage à Jérusalem; Paris, Champion, 1878).
Villehardouin: Histoire de l’empire de Constantinople sous les empereurs françois (in Bouquet, xviii., pp. 432-514. With modern French translation, Paris, Lemerre, 1891, 2 vols. English translation, London, 1829).
William of Tyre (Guilelmus Tyrius): Historia rerum in partibus transmarinis gestarum. A.D. 1095-1184 (in Recueil. Hist. occid., i.; and in Migne, Pat. Lat., cci., col. 209-892. English translation by Mary Noyes Colvin; London, Early English Text Society, 1893).
Anselm of Ripemont (Anselmus de Ribodimonte): Epistolæ ad Manassem archiepiscopum Remensem duæ.A.D. 1098 (in Recueil. Hist. occid., iii., pp. 890-893).
Alexius I., Comnenus: Epistola ad Robertum I., Flandriæ comitem.A.D. 1098 (in Recueil. Histor. grecs, iv., p. 132; and in Migne, Pat. Græc., cxxxi., col. 564-568; Pat. Lat., clv., col. 465-470. German translation by H. Floto, Kaiser Heinrich IV., vol. ii., p. 354; Stuttgart, 1854).
Godfrey (Godefridus Bullonius): Epistolæ et diplomata (in Migne, Pat. Lat., clv., col. 389-398).
Stephen of Blois (Stephanus Carnotensis et Blesensis) to his wife: Epistolæ duæ (in Recueil. Hist. occid., iii., pp. 883-893).
Urban II.: Epistolæ (in Migne, Pat. Lat., cli., col. 283-552).
Matthew Paris: English History from 1253 to 1273 (translation in Bohn’s Antiquarian Library; London, Bell; New York, Macmillan).
Roger of Hovenden: Chronica; edited by William Stubbs (in Rerum Britannicarum medii ævi Scriptores [see under Stubbs, p. viii.], No. 51, vols. i.-iv., 1868-71).
Roger of Wendover: Flowers of History (in Bohn’s Antiquarian Library; London, Bell; New York, Macmillan).
Willibald, The Travels of, A.D. 721-727 (in Bohn’s Antiquarian Library [London, Bell; New York, Macmillan], in the vol. edited by Thomas Wright, Early Travels in Palestine, pp. 13-22).
III. WORKS ON THE CRUSADES WRITTEN FROM THE SOURCES.
T. A. Archer and Charles L. Kingsford: The Crusades: The Story of the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem; New York, G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1895.
George William Cox: The Crusades; London, Longmans; New York, Scribner, 1874.
Heinrich Hagenmeyer: Peter der Eremite: ein kritischer Beitrag zur Geschichte des ersten Kreuzzuges; Leipzig, Harrassowitz, 1879.
Arnold Hermann Ludwig Heeren: Historische Werke; Göttingen, Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1821-26, 14 parts.
Arnold Hermann Ludwig Heeren: Essai sur l’influence des croisades; French translation, Paris, 1808.
Thomas Keightley: The Crusaders; London, S. P. C. K., 1834, 2 vols.; new ed., Parker, 1852, 1 vol.
Bernard Kugler: Geschichte der Kreuzzüge; Berlin, G. Grote, 1880; 2. Aufl., 1891.
Bernard Kugler: Neue Analekten zur Geschichte des 2. Kreuzzuges; Tübingen, Fries, 1883.
Jean Pierre Armand de la Porte des Vaulx: Les croisades, et le royaume latin de Jérusalem; Limoges, Ardant, 1863.
Louis Maimbourg: Histoire des croisades; Paris, 1675, 2 vols.; 2d ed., 1682, 4 vols. English translation, The History of the Holy War; London, 1686, fol.
Joseph François Michaud: Histoire des croisades; Paris, 1812-22, 7 vols.; 9th ed., Paris, Vivès, 1856, 4 vols.; illustrated by Doré, 1875-76, 2 vols., fol.
Joseph François Michaud: History of the Crusades; translation, London, Routledge, 1852. New ed., with supplementary chapter by Hamilton W. Mabie; New York, Armstrong, 1881, 3 vols.
Joseph François Michaud: Bibliothèque des croisades; Paris, 1830, 4 vols.
Jules Michelet: Les croisades, 1095-1270; Paris, Hetzel et Cie., 1880.
Charles Mills: The History of the Crusades; London, Longmans, 1828, 2 vols.
Edwin Pears: The Fall of Constantinople; being the Story of the Fourth Crusade; London, Longmans & Co.; New York, Harpers, 1886.
Reinhold Röhricht: Beiträge zur Geschichte der Kreuzzüge; Berlin, Weidmann, 1874-78, 2 vols.
Reinhold Röhricht: Quellenbeiträge zur Geschichte der Kreuzzüge. Bd. i., Zur Geschichte Salâh-ad-dîns; Berlin, Weidmann, 1879.
Reinhold Röhricht: Studien zur Geschichte des fünften Kreuzzuges; Innsbruck, Wagner, 1891.
Richard Salter Storrs: Bernard of Clairvaux; New York, Scribner, 1892.
William Stubbs: Chronicles and Memorials of the Reign of Richard I. (in Rerum Britannicarum medii ævi Scriptores [No. 38, vol. i., 1864], published by the authority of her Majesty’s Treasury, under the direction of the Master of the Rolls [hence called the “Rolls Series”]; London, 1858 sqq.).
Heinrich Carl Ludolf von Sybel: Geschichte des ersten Kreuzzuges; Leipzig, Fleischer, 1841; 2. Aufl., 1881.
Heinrich Carl Ludolf von Sybel: History and Literature of the Crusades; translated by Lady Duff-Gordon [not a translation of the preceding, but a compilation from his writings]; London, Chapman, 1861.
Friedrich Wilken: Geschichte der Kreuzzüge nach morgenländischen und abendländischen Berichten; Leipzig, Vogel, 1807-32, 7 parts.
IV. GENERAL HISTORIES IN WHICH THE PERIOD OF THE CRUSADES IS INCLUDED.
James Bryce: The Holy Roman Empire; London and New York, Macmillan, 1864; 8th ed., 1888.
George Finlay: A History of Greece from its Conquest by the Romans to the Present Time, B.C. 146 to A.D. 1864; Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1877, 7 vols.
Edward Gibbon: The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire; London, 1776-81, 6 vols. Best completed ed. by William Smith; London, Murray, 1854-55, 8 vols.; New York, Harpers. New ed., with additional notes by J. B. Bury; London and New York, Macmillan, 1896 sqq. (Chaps. lvii.-lxi., The Crusades, separately issued by A. Murray; London, 1869.)
François Pierre Guillaume Guizot: The History of Civilization from the Fall of the Roman Empire to the French Revolution; translation (in Bohn’s Standard Library; London, Bell; New York, Macmillan; 3 vols.).
François Pierre Guillaume Guizot: The History of France from the Earliest Times to the Year 1789; translation, London, Low, 1870-81, 6 vols.
Henry Hallam: View of the State of Europe during the Middle Ages; London, Murray, 1818, 2 vols.; 11th ed., 1855, 3 vols.; later eds.; reprinted, New York, Armstrong, 2 vols.
David Hume: The History of England; modern ed., London, Ward, Lock & Co., 1880, 3 vols.; Amer. ed., Harpers, 6 vols.
Henry Hart Milman: History of Latin Christianity; London, Murray, 1854-55, 6 vols.; 4th ed., 1867, 9 vols.; reprinted, New York, Armstrong, 8 vols.
William Robertson: The History of the Reign of the Emperor Charles V., with a View of the Progress of Society in Europe from the Subversion of the Roman Empire to the Beginning of the Sixteenth Century; London, 1769; reprinted, Philadelphia, Lippincott, 1857, 3 vols.; later editions.
V. POETICAL TREATMENT OF THE HISTORY OF THE FIRST CRUSADE.
Torquato Tasso: Gerusalemme Liberata; Venice, 1580. English translation, Jerusalem Delivered; New York, Appleton.
After the lapse of eight hundred years the story of the crusades still furnishes the most fascinating, if not the most instructive, pages of Christian history. Romance has entertained the generations from the days of the Italian Tasso to those of Walter Scott with the rude yet chivalric characters of those mediæval times. Ponderous knights and dashing emirs, fair women and saintly apparitions, continue to move over the mimic stage of the imagination. Poetry, in all the tongues of modern Europe, draws its imagery from scenes that were enacted while these languages were being formed from their classic or barbaric originals. The hymnology of the church is enriched by the songs of those who caught their rhythm from the march of the crusading host. Bernard of Clugny watched the salvation armies of the olden time as they sauntered by his cloister window. Now catching their spirit, and anon oppressed with their failure to express the truest prowess of the believer’s soul, he tried to lift men’s faith to the Jerusalem above:
“O happy band of pilgrims,
If onward ye will tread
With Jesus as your fellow
To Jesus as your head!
“Thou hast no shore, fair ocean;
Thou hast no time, bright day;
Dear fountain of refreshment
To pilgrims on the way.
“Upon the Rock of Ages
They raise thy holy tower;
Thine is the victor’s laurel,
And thine the golden dower.”
Our newest songs catch the very gleam of those battle days. For example:
“Onward, Christian soldiers,
Marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus
Going on before!”
is not unlike the chorus of a Latin hymn of Berthier of Orleans, which was sung under the tent and on the field:
“Lignum crucis
Signum ducis
Sequitur exercitus;
Quod non cessit
Sed præcessit
In vi Sancti Spiritus.”
The student of human nature, also, will find here his most subtle and perplexing, but at the same time his most suggestive, subjects. Never before or since was there such exalted faith combined with such grotesque superstition, such splendid self-sacrifice mingled with cruel and unrestrained selfishness, such holy purpose with its wings entangled, torn, and besmeared in vicious environments.
To the historical scholar this period is unsurpassed in importance by any, if we except the days of the birth of Christianity. The age of the crusades covers the eleventh and twelfth centuries. For two hundred years, to use the vigorous language of the Greek princess Anna Comnena, who witnessed the first crusade, “Europe was loosened from its foundations and hurled against Asia.” As an Alpine glacier presses down into the valley, only to melt away at the summer line, yet with renewed snows repeals the fatal experiment from year to year, so seven times Western Christendom replenished its mighty armaments, to see them destroyed at the border-land of Oriental conquest.
To define the causes of these vast movements is a task which both tempts and tantalizes the historian. It is surely unlearned to ascribe even the first crusade to the sole influence of any man, though he were an Urban II. and wielded the temporal and spiritual authority of the Papacy in its most puissant days. It is puerile to say, as Michaud does, speaking of Peter the Hermit, “The glory of delivering Jerusalem belongs to a single pilgrim, possessed of no other power than the influence of his character and genius.” It is equally uncritical, if not blasphemous, to attribute these most unfortunate and ill-timed ventures to the Almighty, as the same writer does in these words: “No power on earth could have produced such a great revolution. It only belonged to Him whose will gives birth to and disperses tempests to throw all at once into human hearts that enthusiasm which silenced all other passions and drew on the multitude as if by an invisible power.”
To even approximate an understanding of this subject, one must first become familiar with the great racial movements which culminated in that age; must be able to estimate the tendencies of society at a time when it knew not the forces which were struggling within itself; must penetrate the policies of statesmen and ecclesiastics who veiled their ambition under the self-delusion that they were serving God or their fellow-men; and, besides all this, he must gauge the passions and habits of common people, their ignorance and superstition, if not the true heavenly ardor which led them to offer themselves as fuel for the most stupendous human sacrifice the world has known. Were one thus equipped with information, one’s philosophical judgment might still be baffled with the inquiry, What was the chief cause of the crusades? An observation of Dean Milman is especially applicable to this subject: “When all the motives which stir the human mind and heart, the most impulsive passion and the profoundest policy, conspire together, it is impossible to discover which is the dominant influence in guiding to a certain course of action.” The mighty tide of events we are to consider was not unlike a vast river which sweeps through many lands and has many tributary streams, some of whose sources are hidden in the depth of the unexplored wilderness.
Our preliminary study will therefore be wisely limited to an inquiry into the conditions of life and thought in the eleventh century which facilitated or prompted the great movement.
These Conditions were Prominently:
1. The intellectual and moral state of society in the eleventh century, especially its rudeness and warlike spirit.
2. The institution of chivalry, the awakening of better ideals of heroism.
3. The feudal system, which provided for the easy mobilization of men in war or adventure.
4. The impoverished condition of Europe, which forced enterprise to seek its reward in foreign countries.
5. The papal policy to consolidate and universalize the ecclesiastical empire.
6. The menace of Mohammedanism under the Saracenic and Turkish powers.
7. The prevailing superstition, which credited to pilgrimage the virtues of piety, and substituted exploits in the Holy Land for the plainer duties of holy life.
Cardinal Baronius, the historian of the church down to the year 1198, designated the period which then closed as the Dark Ages. The propriety of the title has insured its perpetuity. The era of the crusades is almost evenly divided by the date which all scholars, following Baronius, regard as marking the end of the worst and the beginning of better times. The eleventh and twelfth centuries were the battle-ground on which the grim spectres of the old met the bright advancing spirits of the new civilization.
It must be remembered that the peoples then dominant were the descendants of those barbaric hordes whose irruption from northern Europe and western Asia had swept away the Roman empire. The fierce spirit of the Frank in Gaul, of the Goth in Spain, and of the Lombard in Italy was not yet tempered by the arts and philosophy their fathers had so nearly destroyed, and whose renaissance had not yet begun. It was but a few generations since the people that had inherited the Roman civilization had been largely exterminated. So complete had been the ravage that in the eighth century much of the land in Italy still remained forest and marsh, a condition to which it had reverted. Parcels of ground were purchased by strangers as eremi, the title secured by the fact of having cleared and cultivated any given spot. The reader can readily paint his own picture of the society which settled these lands by recalling such facts as that from 900 to 930 Italy was under the Huns; in 911 Normandy was conquered by Rollo the Dane; in 1029 the Normans possessed themselves of the south of Italy.
Culture, however, was not entirely extinct. The age produced many fine specimens of what is best in manhood and womanhood, although, in comparison with the general condition, these were like sporadic bushes on the breast of a land-slide, whose roots have maintained their hold through the rushing débris, or which have sprung up afresh in the new soil.
There were some men whose genius and virtues would have adorned any age. Among these was Gerbert, Pope Sylvester II. (died 1003), whose attainments in science led to the legend that he was in communication with the devil. Lanfranc (1005-89), the monk of Bec and Caen, whom William the Conqueror appointed to the see of Canterbury, is still renowned for his great logical ability and biblical scholarship. Anselm (1033-1109) merited the praise which Dante bestowed upon him as among the worthiest spirits he saw in paradise. Bérenger (998-1088), though discredited for heresy, possessed a prowess and independence of mind which made him the forerunner of the later Reformers. Hildebrand (1020(?)-85), however we may reprobate the hardness of his ambition and the tyrannical nature of his projects, must be recognized as among the greatest of mankind for astuteness of judgment and ability to execute the most gigantic and hazardous plans. Abélard (1079-1142) was a lad of sixteen at the time of the first crusade, but had begun to puzzle his teacher, William of Champeaux, in his dialectical tilts, deriding the obsolete method of inquiry, and declaring that it was more sport to debate than to fight in a tournament. Bernard of Clairvaux (1091-1153), whose pen was to control Christendom for a generation, and whose sainthood shines through all ages, was in the nursery when the soldiers of the cross started for the East. There were noble women, too. Bernard owed much of his talent and virtue to his mother, Aletta, whose memory is the imperishable ornament of womanhood. The great Countess Matilda spoke many languages, was chosen counsellor of Pope Gregory VII., and won her place in Dante’s catalogue of saints as the celestial messenger heralding the chariot throne of the glorified Beatrice. The praise of the great crusading captain Godfrey halos his mother, Ida of Bouillon, to whom he confessed that, next to the grace of God, he owed whatever goodness made him beloved of men.
The intellectuality of this period exercised itself almost entirely with theological and religious subjects. Men in seclusion elaborated and defended existing church doctrines, and gave pious flight to their imaginations. But of literature as such there was none; even the Troubadours had not begun to rhyme the Provençal tongue. The hot breath of the crusades themselves forced the débris of the Latin to send out its first flowers of poesy.
In this age at least may be discerned the budding of a taste and sentiment that betokened the refinement of after times. Gothic architecture, the first efflorescence of the Northern genius after it had been planted in the soil of Southern art, now appeared in such buildings as the cathedrals of Pisa, Modena, Parma, Siena, Strasburg, Treves, Worms, Mayence, Basel, Chartres, Brussels, and the foundation of St. Mark’s in Venice. The dreaded year 1000 having safely passed without the anticipated destruction of the world, faith reinspired art to build temples on earth. New monasteries appeared, palatial in structure, to accommodate the people who sought in seclusion escape from the hardness or the dreariness of life in the world.
It must, however, be recognized that whatever brilliancy of intelligence, beauty of character, or enterprise appeared betokened a coming rather than illustrated a passing age, like the wild flowers that shoot from the cold ground in the early spring. To picture these brighter things, were the genial task pursued to any great extent, would endanger the accuracy of the impression made upon the reader’s mind. Hallam truly says of this period: “History which reflects only the more prominent features of society cannot exhibit the virtues that were scarcely able to struggle through the general depravation.”
This was an age of gross ignorance. The art of making paper from cotton had just been discovered, and, while it contributed somewhat to the diffusion of knowledge by giving cheaper manuscript books than those on vellum, the world was to wait four centuries longer for the printing-press to popularize the habit of seeking information. The few manuscripts which existed were the property of monasteries or of the nobility, who kept them as articles of furniture rather than for their practical use. We have a verbal monument to the ignorance of these times in the expression we still use when we speak of “signing,” or making a mark to signify, one’s name. In the ninth century Herbaud, the supreme judge of the empire, could not write his name, and as late as the fourteenth century Du Guesclin, high constable of France, was equally innocent of letters. One of their contemporaries gives this tribute to the ecclesiastics of the time: “They were given rather to the gullet than to the tongue (gulæ quam glossæ). They preferred to be schooled in salmon rather than in Solomon (salmone quam Solomone).” Few priests could translate the breviary they recited with parrot tongues. Of the history of the grand civilization just behind them the people knew nothing; even the laws which had so long preserved the state and society, those of Justinian, were forgotten except in some cloisters, where they were studied as classic lore.
The practical methods of modern inquiry into the meaning of the world, the incessant discovery of new resources in nature for the comfort and luxury of living, have stimulated and enlarged the human mind; and in the new interests thus created men have found a healthful diversion alike from the engrossments of animalism and the morbid fancies of superstition. But in the time we are studying there was no real scientific thought that was not instantly suppressed by the authorities of the church as the suggestion of heretics or of the Saracens. Roger Bacon, who flourished so late as the close of the crusades, paid with fourteen years’ imprisonment for his temerity in proposing the more rational methods of viewing the world, which his great namesake, Francis Bacon, three hundred and fifty years later, more completely formulated for general acceptance.
The industrial arts had been lost or had come to be entirely neglected after the barbaric conquest which swept away the Roman civilization, and during the centuries since there had been scarcely any attempt to revive them. The very faculty of invention seems to have become paralyzed by disuse. It was not until 1148 that Roger of Sicily established a silk factory at Palermo, which, Hallam says, “gave the earliest impulse to the industry of Italy.”
Such times were necessarily marked by the narrow limitation and degradation of common life.
The vast majority of people lived in the country, in complete isolation from their fellows, seeking sustenance in most primitive ways from the breast of mother nature; or they were huddled together in rude hamlets under the walls of the castles, whose lords enslaved while they protected them; for such was the chaotic condition of society that every one was compelled to seek safety with service under some possessor of a stronghold. Cities there were, crowded with dense masses of humanity, the breeding-places of all sorts of vice and social disorder. Towns owe their existence to some community of interest, such as similar industrial pursuits or convenience for trade; these, of course, had scarcely begun to spring up.
If the immediate environment of the common man furnished no stimulus to enterprise, neither was it provided by anything beyond his neighborhood. Without a system of monetary exchange, trade was limited to barter or to the purchasing power of purse and belt. A brief journey with merchandise was executed with hazard. Every petty lord exacted toll of those who passed the border of his estate. Many of the occupants of the castles lived by open robbery, and kept men-at-arms, as they kept their falcons, to pounce upon their prey. Not only the goods, the persons also of travellers were regarded as legitimate booty, the victims being held for ransom and often sold as slaves. So enterprising were these robber knights that it is said to have been dangerous for the king to go from Paris to St.-Denis without an army at his back. The armed merchantman rode generally with lance in rest. In towns, says Thierry, “nobles, sword in hand, committed robbery on the burghers, and in turn the burghers committed violence upon the peasants who came to buy or sell at the market of the town.”
There was considerable foreign commerce on the Mediterranean. The merchants of Pisa, Genoa, and Venice were in rivalry with those of Byzantium, and with the Saracens who held the ports of Spain and North Africa. But, as what are known as maritime laws were not agreed upon until the thirteenth century, commerce was little more than piracy. The trade vessels were burdened with men for their defence, or for rifling the cargoes of less puissant marauders. The mariner’s compass had been invented, but was not in common use, so that trade was compelled to follow the coast-lines, in perpetual hazard of wreck and robbers. There was no importation of things for common use; the labor and danger of transportation limited the articles of trade to those of rarest value, which became the spoil of the powerful or the purchase of the rich. The ordinary man received no benefit from other neighborhoods than his own, except that the air of heaven was sweetened by its passage over the mountains and seas which separated him from his kind.
It is difficult for us to realize what must have been the inane stupidity of the ordinary lives of men. Homes were almost as dreary in their outward appointments as the nests of eagles or the caves of beasts. In the city were narrow apartments of stone or the shanty with its mud-built walls, often as contracted as the cells of the monastery and as damp and fetid as the vaults of the prison; so that the monk lost little of this world’s comfort in entering his religious retreat, and the prisoner might think himself happy at times in being better housed than he would have been had he made his home with honest toil. If one lived in the country the habitation was a hut but little better than the shelter provided for cattle. Indeed, in many cases the “ox knew his owner” from having slept on the same straw, and the “ass his master’s crib” from its proximity to the family table. The floor of the rude domicile was of earth or stone, the windows unglazed, so that to exclude the winter weather was to shut out the light also. A hole in the roof scarcely sufficed to carry off the smoke from the stoveless fires. No books entertained man’s thoughts, no pictures pleased his eye; his news was the gossip of oft-told tales, his faith such as a priest, himself unable to read, might impose upon his less intelligent parishioners. Even the peasant’s liberty of his own solitude was denied him; he could not range the woods nor float upon the streams at his pleasure. We are told of certain instances where the rustics rebelled against these restrictions imposed upon them. “They took short cuts through the woods, or used the fords and rivers at will;” but they were punished by the knights, who “cut off the hands and feet of the trespassers.” If the rich were better conditioned, their residences were unfurnished with that which the middle classes in our day regard as necessary to comfort and decency. The bounty of the table was without variety. Apparel, however gay, was such as could be wrought by the women of the household. The tapestries which excite our admiration were the product of untold toil or purchased at vast expense. Within the castle was spacious monotony, relieved too generally by the grossness of private debauch; without was the wilderness, threaded by roads that were unfit for wheeled vehicles, menaced by wild beasts and more dangerous men.
The common recreation of the lordly classes was hunting and hawking, bear-baiting and fighting. Men rode with sword and spear, the ubiquitous falcon on arm, and hounds in leash. So universal were such pastimes that, in lack of more intellectual and refined resources, the highest dignitaries of the church displayed the weapons of the chase together with the insignia of their sacred office. So much of life was wasted in these amusements that the Council of the Lateran, in 1180, forbade the bishops indulging in these sports while on their pastoral journeys. Previously Pope Alexander III. (1159-64), by special edict, relieved the common clergy from the necessity of keeping the archdeacons in hounds and falcons during their visits to the churches.
Such a limitation of the more generous and worthy interests of mankind, which stimulate and enlarge the mind, left the common intelligence in an almost infantile condition. Sismondi says that even the nobles came to count it a duty not to think. One can readily believe this on recalling the titles given at court to the various royal personages who graced it: Pepin the Short, Charles the Bald, William the Red, Louis the Fat, etc.
Fancy, however, will generally survive the failure of the logical and æsthetic faculties, and thus men become the easy prey of superstition. All sorts of stories of things supernatural, the invention of designing priests or born of the surprise of ignorance at the unusual in nature, were believed without question. The winds that rustled the leaves of the forest were supposed to be the voices of saintly ghosts, and when with wintry weight they moaned through the branches or screeched along the icy rocks, it was believed that the damned were groaning in their pains or that demons were threatening men. Every flash or shadow that could not readily be explained was regarded as a hopeful or vengeful apparition from the unseen world. This credulity was not confined to the illiterate and boorish. The chroniclers of that age, upon whose learning we depend for the facts of our history, relate with equal gravity the deeds of demons and men, connect the doings of courts and the course of comets, and intermingle in relation of cause and effect the storms of nature and the wars of nations. Thus superstition completed the work of mental inoccupancy, as vermin and bats inhabit an unfurnished cell.
Such a condition of the mental faculties could have only a deleterious influence on the moral sense. We are not, therefore, surprised to find the conscience of the age correspondingly crude.
This ethical degradation was reflected in the low state of the laws, if the changeable wills or whims of a host of petty lords can be dignified with the title of legislation. Power claimed possession with little regard for the method of acquisition. Disputes, when relegated to the pretence of a court, were tried not by weighing evidence, but by counting the number of compurgators, that is, of those persons who would swear that they believed the oath of one or the other party. When the contestants were gentlemen or of the noble order, the cases were arbitrated on the field of Private Combat. Even the judge or referee of the combat was himself liable to challenge from either party that felt itself aggrieved by his decision. Priests, invalids, and women were accustomed to choose some one from among their relatives or friends to champion their cause. There was no appeal to candid judgment after a full hearing of the facts, except in case of dispute between slaves, villains, and freemen of inferior condition, whose owners or lords might be disposed to fair dealing. A relic of the mediæval custom of private combat is the modern duel.
The personal encounter often grew to the dimensions of neighborhood war, in which kinsmen and retainers were involved until entire districts were laid waste. Neither the power of Charlemagne nor that of the church prevailed against this unreasonable custom. The one exception to this statement was the temporary lull in the carnage during what was known as the Truce of God, an expedient agreed upon in certain places, according to which raids and riots were confined to the half of the week succeeding the Sabbath. But the adoption of this merciful rule forces our attention to its necessity, since “man’s inhumanity to man” was destroying entire populations as in a deluge of blood.
When for any reason the combat was inexpedient the question of right was decided by the Ordeal. The accused party presumed to walk through fire or on burning ploughshares, to handle hot iron, float upon water, plunge the bare arm into a boiling caldron, or swallow a bit of consecrated bread with appeal to Heaven to strike one dead if guilty. If one endured the Ordeal unscathed he was said to be acquitted by the judgment of God. It is not necessary to explain the apparent impunity with which some of the worst criminals passed these trials, nor to cite the multitude of cases in which persons of otherwise undoubted innocence were adjudged guilty because they perished in this irrelevant attempt to vindicate themselves. The fact that questions involving the most sacred rights of the individual, such as the holding of property, the protection of the body from mutilation on the rack, the retaining of life, and the vindication of character, were not so much as brought to the court of intelligence and conscience argues the degradation of both these faculties.
If further evidence be needed that the very sense of justice had become largely extinguished, it is found in the prevalence of judicial perjury, allowed, and even prompted, by legalized custom. Before the combat both parties were required to partake of the sacrament, in which act one of the contestants, being guilty, was forced to commit sacrilege. Witnesses were sworn upon the relics of the saints; but, notwithstanding these things were believed to have in them a limitless power to help or hurt those who touched their sacred incasements, the people seem to have credited the righteousness of the dead as little as the impartiality of the living, and the guilty were accustomed to perjure themselves without dread of consequences. The soul of good Robert of France was so afflicted by the universal consciencelessness in this respect that he devised an expedient for averting the wrath of the saints, who might justly avenge the slight put upon their bones. He ordered that the relics should be secretly removed from the casket that was supposed to contain them, so that the would-be perjurer might not actually commit the crime he intended. If this act illustrated the mercy, it also displayed the lack of true moral sentiment in him who, in contrast with his fellows, was known as the “good king.”
Such stifling of the sense of justice was quite naturally attended by the suppression of the gentler emotions of kindness and humanity. This was an age of almost incredible cruelty. Natural affection, of course, survived in the love of parents and children, husbands and wives. There were delightful friendships which illumined the social gloom like threads of gold in some dark fabric. Men and women lived and died for one another, as they will always do while a lineament of the divine remains in the human. But, beyond the fascination of the individual and the obligations of kinship, the sentiment of love seemed unknown to the masses. The founders of the great benevolent orders, men like Dominic and Francis of Assisi, oppressed by this deadness to the essential Christian spirit, were in the near future to unbind the hearts of men that they might come forth to more generous life; but that day had not yet come. Men apparently had lost the sympathetic imagination by which the pains and grief of the unfortunate are transferred to the hearts of others. Dean Stanley remarks of even the thirteenth century that “the age had no sense of obligation to the poor and middle class.” It was still needful that rulers should repeat the dying counsel of Charlemagne to his sons, “not to deprive widows and orphans of their remaining estates.”
This insensibility to the needs of others was accompanied by a positive gratification in scenes of cruelty. The popular stories which mothers taught their children were in praise of heroes whom we would regard as butchers and bruisers. A favorite legend was of Renoart, the flower of early Chivalry—he of the ugly visage and gigantic frame, whose mace laid open the brains of his antagonists, and who broke the skull of the monk who refused to indulge his whim of exchanging clothes with him. What child of that age had not heard of Roland, the hero of Roncesvalles, whose unstinted praises went far to form the manly habits of many generations? He was an enfant terrible, who tore his swaddling-clothes in pieces, belabored his mother furiously, and gave early promise of his prowess by beating lifeless the porter of the castle who would not let him go out to play. And how charming Roland’s love-making to the fair Aude! He saw her for the first time amid the galaxy of beauties assembled to witness his combat with Oliver. Unable to restrain his passion, he rushed from the lists, threw himself upon her, and would have carried her off bodily had not Oliver given him one of those blows the echo of which has rung the praises of this mediæval prize-fighter down the ages.
But the people of the eleventh century did not need to go back to an earlier era for examples of this sort of manliness. Foulques the Black, the greatest of the counts of Anjou (987-1040), was pious enough to go on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, but not sufficiently humane to refrain from burning his young wife at the stake, decked for her doom in her gayest attire. He was so humble that he paraded the streets of the Holy City with a halter about his neck, while the blood streamed from the scourge-wounds on his shoulders, yet he forced his own son to be bridled and saddled like an ass and to crouch on all fours at his feet. Of the whole line of Anjou at this period the historian Green remarks that “their shameless wickedness degraded them below the level of man.” The house of Normandy contested the palm of greatness with the Angevins, but were equally rude. When William of Normandy, afterwards the Conqueror of England, learned that Baldwin of Flanders had refused him his daughter Matilda in marriage, the chronicle says “he forced his way into the countess’s chamber, found the daughter, took her by her tresses, dragged her about the room, and trampled her under his feet.” The young lady does not seem to have been grieved by the violence of the wooing, but rather to have acquired a better appreciation of the lordly qualities of her future husband. We may be permitted to doubt the accuracy of this story, but the fact that it was so early chronicled and generally believed attests the popular taste. William Rufus (1056-1100) is thus described by one who knew him: “The outrager of humanity, of law, and of nature; beastly in his pleasures, a murderer and blasphemous scoffer.” Henry I. of England (1068-1135) put out the eyes of his brother Robert and of his two grandchildren, and forced his daughter to cross a frozen fosse, stripped half naked.
The penalties under law also revealed the hardness of men’s hearts. Criminals were hung by their feet, by their necks, or by their thumbs, with burning matter fastened upon some part of the body; they were put into dungeons with snakes, and into cages too small to allow the full motion of the limbs; they were made to wear wooden or iron collars of enormous weight, so arranged that the culprit could take no position without feeling the burden.