Renault, or Rinaldo. Under his command, they resumed their march, and took possession of the fortress of Xerigord. Here they were attacked by Sultan Soliman, who cut to pieces a detachment placed in ambuscade, and then invested the fortress.
The besieged possessed no supply of water within the walls, and they endured the most dreadful agonies from thirst. At the end of eight days, the leader, Rinaldo, with his chief companions, went over to the Turks, and betrayed the fortress into their hands. The remainder of the garrison were put to death without mercy.
The news of this disaster reached the French camp, and with it came a false report of the fall of Nicæa. The troops demanded to be led towards the Turkish territory, and Walter the Penniless, having in vain attempted to restrain their impatience, placed himself at their head. Before the army had advanced many leagues into the country, it was encountered by the Turks, who attacked the Crusaders in overwhelming numbers. An obstinate resistance only served to make the carnage more complete. Walter himself, after performing many feats of valour, fell covered with wounds, and the Christian army was routed so completely, that only 3,000 men escaped the sword.
The fugitives entrenched themselves at Civitot, where they were again attacked by a large force. The Turks surrounded the fortress with piles of wood, with the intention of destroying the garrison by fire, but the Crusaders, seizing a moment when the wind blew towards the Turkish camp, set fire to the wood themselves, and many of their enemies perished in the flames.
Meanwhile a soldier had made his escape from the town, and having reached Constantinople, told the news of these disasters to Peter the Hermit, At the prayer of Peter, the Emperor Alexius sent forces to rescue the garrison of Civitot, and the remnant of the army of the cross was brought in safety to Constantinople. On their arrival, however, Alexius commanded them to disperse and return to their own country, and he bought from each man his arms; thus at once depriving him of the means of violence, and supplying him with money for the journey.
This policy on the part of the emperor has given rise to an accusation against him of having betrayed the cause of the cross, and entered into an alliance with the Turks. No such motive is necessary to account for the conduct of Alexius. He would necessarily be glad to purge his dominions from a number of lawless vagabonds, who committed every species of iniquity under the name of a holy cause, and who, as his allies, were more to be dreaded than the Turks his enemies.
While the expedition of Peter the Hermit thus came to an end, other bands of fanatics and adventurers were following on his steps, without being destined to reach so far as Constantinople. The accounts of these expeditions are necessarily obscure; but the information we possess on the subject is not of a kind to induce a desire for further details. It is related that a multitude of 200,000 persons, without even a nominal leader, passed through Germany towards the south of Europe. Their course was marked by excesses of every kind; men and women lived in a state of debauchery, and indulged in drunken orgies, obtaining supplies by plundering the surrounding country. Every Jew who fell into their hands was put to death, and the fanatic multitude declared it to be the will of Heaven that they should exterminate the nation who had rejected the Saviour.
A terrible retribution, however, was at hand, and this sacred emblem of the cross was purified from the status with which it had been covered by the perpetrators of these enormities. At Merseburg, a large Hungarian force opposed the advancing multitude, who attacked that city with fury. A breach had been made in the walls, and the fall of Merseburg seemed inevitable, when some strange and sudden terror, which Las never been accounted for, seized the besieging army, and they gave up the attack, and fled in dismay over the country. The Hungarians pursued them on every side, and mowed them down by hundreds. Day after day the work of slaughter went on, until the fields were strewed with corpses and the Danube was red with blood.
Such was the fate of the first bands of Crusaders who set out towards the Holy Land. More than a quarter of a million persons had already perished by famine or disease, or by the swords of the Turks or Hungarians, whose vengeance they had excited by acts of violence and plunder.
Meanwhile many powerful princes of the West were occupied in collecting troops and preparing to take the field. Among these were Godfrey of Bouillon, Duke of Lorraine; Hugh, Count of Vermandois, and brother of Philip, King of France; Robert, Duke of Normandy; Boheraond, Prince of Tarentum; Robert, Count of Flanders; and Raimond, Count of Toulouse; each of whom conducted an army towards Constantinople.
Among the leaders of the first Crusade, the most distinguished name is that of Godfrey VI., Lord of Bouillon, Marquis of Anvers, and Duke of Brabant. Inferior in political power to some of his companions, he was superior to them all in that influence which depends upon personal character. Although still young in years, he had earned fame in many a well-fought field; and his name was known throughout Europe in connection with many acts of private virtue no less than with gallant feats of arms. Amidst the cruelty and licentiousness so commonly attributed to the men of that age, the character of Godfrey is presented to us almost without blemish; and if we make a certain reservation for the partiality of monkish chroniclers towards the great leader of the Crusade, there will still remain evidence of facts which entitle the memory of the Lord of Bouillon to the highest honour with posterity.
Robert the Monk, one of his contemporaries, who was present at the siege of Jerusalem, speaks of Godfrey in the following terms:—"He was of beautiful countenance, tall of stature, agreeable in his discourse, of excellent morals, and at the same time so gentle that he seemed better fitted for the monk than for the knight; but when his enemies appeared before him, and the combat was at hand, his soul became filled with a mighty daring: like a lion, he feared not for his own person; and what shield, what buckler, could withstand the fall of his sword?"
Long before the Crusade had been preached at Clermont, Godfrey had heard the tales of the sufferings of the Christians in Palestine, and had said that he desired to travel to Jerusalem, not with scrip and staff, but with spear and shield. At the time when the standard of the cross was raised throughout Europe, he was suffering from a bad
