Part 36

On leaving Antioch, the Christian army advanced westward, towards the point where the mountains approach the Orontes. Drawn up in battle-array on a vast space where the mountains formed a half-circle around them, and secured them from surprise, their line extended into the plain a league from the city. Hugh, the two Roberts, the count de Belesme, and the count of Hainault placed themselves at the head of the left wing; Godfrey was on the right wing, supported by Eustache, Baldwin du Bourg, Tancred, Renaud de Toul, and Erard de Puyset. Adhemar was in the centre, with Gaston de Béarn, the count de Die, Raimbaut of Orange, William of Montpellier, and Amenjeu d’Albret. Bohemond commanded a body of reserve, ready to fly to any point where the Christians should require help. When Kerbogha saw the dispositions of the Christians, he ordered the sultans of Nicea, Damascus, and Aleppo to make the tour of the mountain, and afterwards reascend the Orontes, so as to place themselves between the Christian army and the city of Antioch. He at the same time drew up his army, to receive the Christians and repulse their attack. He placed his troops partly on the heights, partly in the plain. His right wing was commanded by the emir of Jerusalem, and his left by one of the sons of Accien. For himself, he remained upon a lofty hill, to give his orders, and watch the movements of the two armies.

At the moment the battle began, Kerbogha was seized with fear, and he sent to the Christian princes to propose a combat between a given number on each side, to prevent the general carnage. But this offer, which he had rejected the day before, was not likely to be adopted by the leaders of an army full of ardour and confident of victory. The Christians did not doubt that Heaven would declare for them, and this persuasion must render them invincible. In their enthusiasm they looked upon the most natural events as prodigies which announced the triumph of their arms. A ball of fire, which the evening before had passed over Antioch, and burst over the Saracen camp, appeared to them a certain forerunner of victory. As they left Antioch, a slight rain refreshed the hot air of the season and the climate, and appeared in their eyes a fresh proof of the favour of Heaven. A strong wind, which added speed to their javelins and impeded those of the enemy, was for them like the wind of celestial anger, raised to disperse the infidels. Animated by these persuasions, the Christian army was impatient for the fight. They marched towards the enemy in perfect order: a profound silence prevailed, broken alone by the voices of the commanders, the hymns of the priests, and the exhortations of Adhemar.

All at once the Saracens commenced the attack; they discharged a shower of arrows, and rushed upon the Christians, uttering barbarous howlings. In spite of their impetuous charge, their right wing was quickly repulsed and broken by the Christians. Godfrey met with greater resistance in their left wing; he, however, succeeded in shaking it, and throwing their ranks into disorder. At the moment the troops of Kerbogha began to give way, the sultan of Nicea, who had made the tour of the mountain and returned along the banks of the Orontes, fell upon the rear of the Christians with such impetuosity as to threaten the destruction of the body of reserve under Bohemond. The Crusaders, who fought on foot, could not stand against the first charge of the Saracen cavalry. Hugh the Great, when warned of the danger of Bohemond, abandoned the pursuit of the fugitives and flew to the succour of the reserve. Then the fight was renewed with fresh fury. Kilidj-Arslan, who had to avenge the disgrace of several defeats, as well as the loss of his states, fought like a lion at the head of his troops. A squadron of three thousand Saracen horsemen, all bristling with steel, and armed with clubs, carried disorder and terror into the ranks of the Christians. The standard of the count de Vermandois was borne off and retaken, covered with the blood of Crusaders and infidels. Godfrey and Tancred, who flew to the aid of Hugh and Bohemond, signalized their strength and courage by the death of many Mussulmans. The sultan of Nicea, whom no reverse could subdue, still sustained the shock of the Christians. In the heat of the fight he caused lighted flax to be cast among the heath and dried grass which covered the plain. A conflagration quickly ensued, which encircled the Christians with volumes of fire and smoke. Their ranks were for a moment broken, and they paid no attention to the voices of their leaders. The sultan of Nicea was about to gather the fruit of his stratagem, and victory was on the point of escaping from the hand of the Christians.

At that moment, say the historians, a squadron was seen coming down from the mountains. It was preceded by three horsemen clothed in white, and covered with shining arms: “Behold!” shouted Bishop Adhemar, “behold the celestial succour that was promised you. Heaven declares for the Christians; the holy martyrs, George, Demetrius, and Theodore, are come to fight for us.” Immediately all eyes were turned towards the celestial legion. A new ardour took possession of the hearts of the Crusaders, who were persuaded that God himself was come to their succour; the war-cry _Dieu le veut_ was shouted with as much vigour as at the commencement of the battle. The women and children animated the warriors by their acclamations from the battlements; and the priests continued to pray and sing aloud their hymns and sacred songs of encouragement to the host.

Every Crusader became a hero; nothing could resist their impetuous shock. In a moment the Saracens were shaken everywhere, and only fought in wild disorder. They made an effort to rally on the other side of a torrent, and again on an elevated spot, whence their clarions and trumpets resounded; but the count de Vermandois attacked them in this last intrenchment, and quickly put them to the rout. There was shortly no safety for them but in flight. The banks of the Orontes, the woods, the plains, the mountains, were covered with fugitives, who abandoned their arms and their baggage.

Kerbogha, who had prematurely announced the defeat of the Christians to the caliph of Bagdad and the sultan of Persia, fled with all speed towards the Euphrates, escorted by a small number of his most faithful soldiers. Several emirs had fled before the end of the battle. Tancred and some others, mounted upon the horses of the conquered, pursued till nightfall the sultans of Aleppo and Damascus, the emir of Jerusalem, and the dispersed wreck of the Saracen army. The conquerors set fire to the intrenchments, behind which the enemy’s infantry had taken refuge. A great number of Mussulmans perished there in the flames.

According to many contemporary historians, the infidels left a hundred thousand dead on the field of battle. Four thousand Crusaders lost their lives on this glorious day, and were placed in the list of martyrs.

The Christians found abundance in the tents of their enemies; fifteen thousand camels and a vast number of horses fell into their hands. In the camp of the Saracens, where they passed the night, they admired at leisure the luxury of the Orientals, and examined with surprise the tent of the king of Mossoul, in all parts of which glittered gold and precious stones, and which, divided into long streets, flanked by high towers, resembled a fortified city. They employed several days in carrying into Antioch the spoils of the conquered. The booty was immense, and every soldier found himself richer than when he left Europe.

The Saracen army was composed of newly-raised troops, from nations generally at feud one with another; and of the twenty-eight emirs who accompanied Kerbogha, scarcely any two were disposed to act in concert, or acknowledge the authority of one leader. On the contrary, strange to say, the most perfect union prevailed on that day among the Christians.

When the danger was past, the holy lance, which had given so much confidence to the Crusaders during the battle, lost all its miraculous influence, and no longer enjoyed their veneration. As it remained in the hands of the count of Toulouse and the Provençals, to whom it at first attracted a great number of offerings, the other nations were unwilling to leave them the advantage of a miracle which augmented their consideration and wealth. Some time after, when the Christians had undergone new disasters, the subject of the holy lance was brought before the army by either sceptics or rivals, and Barthélemi was urged on by friends and foes, as well as by his own vanity, to undergo the ordeal of fire to prove his truth and the authenticity of the miracle. This resolution satisfied the army, and all the pilgrims were convoked to be witnesses of the judgment of Heaven. On the day fixed, which happened to be Good-Friday, a funeral pile was constructed of olive-branches in the centre of a vast plain. Most of the Crusaders were assembled, and everything was prepared for the redoubtable trial. The flame had already risen to the height of twenty cubits, when Barthélemi appeared, accompanied by the priests, who advanced in silence, barefoot, and clothed in their sacerdotal habits. Covered with a simple tunic only, the priest of Marseilles carried the holy lance, surrounded with floating streamers. When he had arrived within a few paces of the pile, one of the principal clergy, in a loud voice, pronounced these words: “If this man has seen Jesus Christ face to face, and if the Apostle Andrew has revealed to him the holy lance, may he pass safe and sound through the flames; if, on the contrary, he is guilty of falsehood, may he be burnt, together with the lance which he bears in his hands.” At these words all present reverently bowed, and responded as with one voice, “The will of God be done!” Barthélemi threw himself on his knees, called Heaven to witness the truth of what he said, and recommending himself to the prayers of the priests and bishops, he rushed through the pile, where an opening of about two feet wide had been left for his passage. For a moment all lost sight of him. Several of the pilgrims began to weep, when he was seen to issue on the opposite side to that on which he had entered. He was immediately surrounded and pressed upon by a numberless crowd, who cried “Miracle,” and contended for the honour of touching his garment. But Barthélemi was covered with mortal wounds; he was carried in a dying state to the tent of the count of Toulouse, where he expired a few days after, protesting his innocence and his veracity, He was buried on the spot where the pile had stood. Raymond de St. Grilles and the Provençals persisted in looking upon him as an apostle and a martyr; but most of the pilgrims were satisfied with the _judgment of God_, and the miraculous lance ceased to work prodigies.

We have taken this account principally from Michaud, the elegant author of the “History of the Crusades,” and Gibbon; and we do not fear incurring the censure of our readers for giving it so much in detail, it being, in our opinion, the most interesting siege in all history.

NAPLES.

Mortally chagrined at not being able to charm Ulysses to his destruction, the siren Parthenope drowned herself from pure spite; she was buried on the spot where Naples now stands, and gave her name to that city, one of the most beautifully situated in the world. Naples has undergone a great many sieges,--so many, that of some we shall be able to give but a very short notice.

FIRST SIEGE, A.D. 536.

Belisarius besieged Naples. That city, admirably situated, was defended by good ramparts and a numerous garrison. Its inhabitants had resolved to perish rather than surrender, and for twenty days all the assaults of the Roman general were in vain. He was about to abandon the enterprise, when a happy chance offered him the success he had ceased to hope for. An Isaurian soldier was curious to see the structure of an aqueduct which Belisarius had caused to be cut off at a considerable distance from the city, and there found a rock pierced with a channel large enough to allow water to flow through it, but not sufficiently wide to enable a man to pass. He thought that by enlarging this channel it would be possible to gain entrance into the city, and hastened to inform his general of the discovery. Belisarius secretly charged some Isaurians with the task, which they performed in a few hours, making a passage for an armed man. Belisarius, with his usual humanity, anxious to save life, had an interview with one of the principal citizens, and in vain endeavoured to persuade him to escape the cruelty of the soldiery by a surrender. Reduced to employ force, the Roman general selected that evening a body of four hundred men, completely armed, and as soon as it was dark led them, each being provided with a lantern, towards the aqueduct. They were preceded by two trumpets, which were to be sounded as soon as they were in the place. Belisarius ordered the ladders to be ready for an escalade at the same time, all the troops being under arms. When the detachment had entered the aqueduct, the greater part of them were seized with a panic, and retraced their steps, in spite of the efforts of their conductors to urge them on. Belisarius had them replaced by two hundred of the bravest men of his army, when the others, ashamed of their cowardice, followed close upon their heels. The aqueduct, covered by a brick vault, penetrated far into the city; and the soldiers, without knowing it, were already beneath the streets of Naples, when they arrived at the mouth of the channel, in a basin, whose sides were high and impracticable to armed men. Their embarrassment was extreme; more continued coming, and there was not sufficient room for them in so small a place. One of the soldiers, more active and bold than the rest, took off his arms, climbed to the top, and found himself in the miserable ruins of an old building, inhabited by an old woman: he threatened to kill her if she opened her mouth. He then threw a cord down, the end of which he fastened to an olive-tree, and by this species of ladder the band of soldiers gained the top of the basin two hours before day. They advanced towards the wall on the northern side, surprised the guards of two towers, and put them to the sword. Masters of this part of the wall, they gave the signal agreed upon with the trumpets, and Belisarius immediately had the ladders planted. They were found to be too short; but he ordered two to be tied together, and by that means reached the parapets. The Romans spread themselves through the city, where they met with little resistance. The soldiers gave themselves up to blind indiscriminate cruelty. Belisarius succeeded at length in putting a stop to this frightful course, by threatening some and entreating others. After having abandoned the booty to them as a recompense for their valour, he re-established quiet in the city, and caused children to be restored to their parents, and wives to their husbands.

SECOND SIEGE, A.D. 543.

Totila laid siege to Naples. To intimidate the garrison, the king of the Goths caused Demetrius, the Roman general, taken prisoner in a convoy, to be led close to the walls, loaded with chains and a cord about his neck, and compelled him to cry aloud to the besieged, that the emperor was not in a condition to send them any succours. This speech, but still more the famine which raged in the city, induced the Neapolitans to surrender.

THIRD SIEGE, A.D. 818.

Sicon, prince of Beneventum, declared war against the Neapolitans, and after a long siege, reduced them to the rank of tributaries.

FOURTH SIEGE, A.D. 1253.

Naples had yielded itself up to the Pope, upon which, the emperor Conrad laid siege to it, and shortly brought it back to a sense of its duty.

FIFTH SIEGE, A.D. 1381.

Pope Urban VI. having excommunicated Joan, the first queen of Naples, intrusted the execution of the sentence to Charles de Duras, whom that queen, a few years before, had declared her legitimate heir. This prince appeared at the gates of Naples, in which city he had many partisans. A great number of the inhabitants came over the walls to bring refreshments to his troops, by whom he learnt that the city was divided into three factions, the most powerful of which demanded him for king. Two Neopolitan knights serving in Charles’s army, took a novel means of obtaining entrance to a besieged city. It had always been deemed that the sea formed a sufficient defence at what was called the Gate Conciara, and it was neither closed nor guarded. The knights, under the guidance of some deserters, swam close under the ramparts and entered the open gate without obstruction. They then advanced into the market-place, crying aloud, “Long live Charles Duras and Pope Urban!” Followed by the populace, they opened the market gate and admitted Charles and his army. The next day he laid siege to the castle, in which the queen had taken refuge. Joan, reduced to the last extremity by famine, having no vessel in which to escape, and no resource but in her husband, Otho of Brunswick, who was made prisoner by Charles, was obliged to surrender.

SIXTH SIEGE, A.D. 1442.

Alphonso, king of Arragon, the implacable enemy of René of Anjou, who was a kind of titular king of Naples, laid siege to the capital of that country. This René is a character somewhat associated with our national historical recollections, being the father of Margaret of Anjou, one of the most remarkable of our queens. Alphonso was pressing the siege warmly, when a mason, named Anello, informed him that he was acquainted with an aqueduct by which it would be possible to penetrate to a house close to the gate of Capua; and if a number of soldiers and officers were introduced into that house, they could easily render themselves masters of that gate. The king determined to make the attempt, and appointed two companies of infantry for the service. Anello, stimulated by the hope of a great reward, placed himself at their head and conducted them to the _regard_ (opening) of the aqueduct, more than a mile from the city. They proceeded in single files, with large lanterns, and armed with cross-bows and partizans. Whilst Alphonso drew nearer to the walls to watch the event of this expedition, Anello and his troop followed the aqueduct till it brought them to the house of a tailor, near the gate of St. Sophia, where they issued by means of a dry well, to the amount of forty. Not daring to force the guard, they were compelled to terrify the wife and daughter of the owner of the house, in order to keep them quiet. Whilst they were so engaged, the tailor came home, and, surprised at seeing his house filled with soldiers, he turned sharply round and ran out, exclaiming, “The enemies are in the city!” The forty adventurers then, judging they could no longer hesitate, attacked the guard of the gate of St. Sophia; but they met with such resistance, that René had time to come up, when he killed part of them and forced the rest to retreat. Alphonso, not seeing the signal agreed upon, imagined that the enterprise had failed, and was returning to his camp, when he heard the noise of a conflict carried on in the city, and retraced his steps towards the walls. René had reinforced the guard and placed the gate of St. Sophia in safety; but three hundred Genoese charged with the defence of that of St. Januarius, abandoned their post the moment they heard the enemy was in the city. A gentleman named Marino Spezzicaso, a partisan of the house of Arragon, threw down several cords from the walls, by means of which, Pierre de Cardonna, general of the army of Alphonso, climbed up the walls, and was soon followed by a great number of his bravest men. Whilst he was traversing the streets, shouting the war-cry of Arragon, he met an officer named Brancazzo, going on horseback to join King René. He stopped him, made him prisoner, took from him his horse, and mounting it, led on a party of Arragonese to attack René. That prince, on beholding him, believed that the enemy really had possession of the city, and, listening to nothing but the dictates of his courage, he attacked the advancing troop and put them to flight. But they soon rallied and returned to the charge. René, obliged to give way to numbers, opened with his sword a passage for himself to the New Castle. So the king of Arragon made himself master of Naples by means of an aqueduct, as Belisarius had done when he took it from the Goths, ten centuries before. René, being without hope or resources, embarked for Provence, whilst Alphonso entered Naples in triumph, in imitation of the ancient Romans--in a chariot drawn by four white horses. All paid homage to his good fortune and his valour, and the kingdom of Naples was reunited to that of Sicily, from which it had been separated a hundred and sixty years.

SEVENTH SIEGE, A.D. 1503.

Ferdinand, king of Castille and Arragon, having, in contempt of treaties of the most solemn kind, invaded the part of the kingdom of Naples and Sicily that belonged to France, charged his great captain Gonsalvo with the siege of the capital of that state. At the approach of the Spaniards, the French, who placed no confidence in the inhabitants, retreated to the fortresses of the Château-neuf and the Œuf. Gonsalvo attacked the first of these, and it made a vigorous resistance. The garrison had resolved to bury themselves under the ruins of the place rather than surrender; and without doubt the Spanish general would have failed in his enterprise if he had only employed ordinary means. But he had in his army a soldier called Peter of Navarre, from the name of his country, who opened the gates and destroyed the ramparts of the castle by the help of a new species of thunder, if we may so term it. This soldier, a very intelligent man, had been, in 1487, with an expedition in which the Genoese employed, but without success, those terrible volcanoes called _mines_. He examined the _fourneau_ of one of these mines, and observed that the want of effect in this invention did not arise from any fault in the art, but from that of the workmen, who had not taken their dimensions correctly. He perfected this secret, and communicated it to Gonsalvo, who begged him to put it to the test. Peter of Navarre took his measures so well, that his mine had all the effect he could expect; he then pierced several others, which succeeded with such precision that the New Castle was blown up, and all its defenders were either cut to pieces or buried under the ruins of the walls. The governor of the castle of the Œuf, a brave gentleman from Auvergne named Chavagnac, were not discouraged by the melancholy fate of his compatriots; he was in vain summoned to surrender: he replied that nothing more glorious could happen to him than to die for his master, with his sword in his hand. Peter then commenced some fresh mines, which were sprung with the same terrible consequences as the former: the walls crushed the greater part of the soldiers, and the rest perished in sight of a Genoese fleet which came to their succour.

EIGHTH SIEGE, A.D. 1557.