Upon this a most furious tumult was created among the people. The enraged multitude flew to arms, and pillaged the houses of the inhabitants who were suspected of being the partisans of Theodore. They swore to treat him as a declared enemy. They attacked the citadel, some beating in the gates, and others scaling the walls. Theodore seeing that his enemies were masters of one part of the ramparts, no longer endeavoured to defend himself, but proposed to capitulate. He agreed to abandon the place, and to renounce the government of Edessa, requesting permission to retire, with his family, to the city of Melitene. This proposition was accepted with joy; the peace was signed, and the inhabitants of Edessa swore upon the cross and the Evangelists to respect the conditions of it.
On the following day, whilst the governor was preparing for his departure, a fresh sedition broke out in the city. The factious repented of having allowed a prince whom they had so cruelly outraged, to live. New accusations were brought against him. It was said that he had only signed the peace with perfidious intentions. The fury of the people soon rose above all bounds, and a thousand voices demanded the death of Theodore. They penetrated, tumultuously, into the citadel, seized the aged governor in the midst of his family, and precipitated him from the heights of the ramparts. His bleeding body was dragged through the streets by the multitude, who prided themselves upon having murdered an old man as much as if they had gained a victory over the infidels.
Baldwin, who may, at least, be accused of not having defended his adoptive father, was soon surrounded by all the people of Edessa, who offered him the government of the city. He refused it at first, “but in the end,” says an old historian, “they combated his objections with so many reasons, that they forced him to consent, and established him instead of the other.” Baldwin was proclaimed liberator and master of Edessa. Seated on a blood-stained throne, and in constant dread of the fickle nature of the people, he soon inspired his subjects with as much fear as his enemies. Whilst the seditious trembled before him, he extended the limits of his territories. He purchased the city of Samosata with the treasures of his predecessor, and obtained possession of several other cities by force of arms. As fortune favoured him in everything, the loss even, which he had lately experienced, of his wife, Gundechilde, promoted his projects of aggrandizement. He espoused the niece of an Armenian prince, and by that new alliance he extended his possessions as far as Mount Taurus. All Mesopotamia, with both shores of the Euphrates, acknowledged his authority, and Asia then beheld a French knight reigning without dispute over the richest provinces of the ancient kingdom of Assyria.
Baldwin thought no more of the deliverance of Jerusalem, but gave all his attention to the defence and aggrandizement of his states.[93] Many knights, dazzled by such a rapid fortune, hastened to Edessa, to increase the army and the court of the new monarch. The advantages which resulted to the Crusaders from the foundation of this new state, have made their historians forget that they were the fruit of injustice and violence. The principality of Edessa served as a check upon the Turks and the Saracens, and was, to the period of the second crusade, the principal bulwark of the power of the Christians in the East.
BOOK III.
A.D. 1097-1099.
The great army of the Crusaders had traversed the states of the sultan of Nice and Iconium; throughout its passage the mosques were given up to the flames or converted into churches; but the Christians had neglected to fortify the cities of which they had rendered themselves masters, or to found a military colony in a country wherein the Turks were always able to rally and re-establish their formidable power. This fault, which must be attributed to a too great confidence in victory, became fatal to the Crusaders, who, in the midst of their triumphs, lost the means of communication with Europe, and thus deprived themselves of the assistance they might have received from Greece and the West.
Terror opened to the pilgrims all the passages of Mount Taurus. Throughout their triumphant march the Christians had nothing to dread but famine, the heat of the climate, and the badness of the roads. They had, particularly, much to suffer in crossing a mountain situated between Coxon and Marash, which their historians denominate “The Mountain of the Devil.” This mountain was very steep, and offered only one narrow path, in which the foot-soldiers marched with difficulty; the horses, which could not keep their footing, dragged each other down the abysses; and the army lost a great part of its baggage. In the course of this disastrous march, says an historian who was an eye-witness, the soldiers gave themselves up to despair, and refused to proceed. Being encumbered with their arms, they either sold them at a low price or cast them down the precipices. On all sides were to be seen warriors wounded by their frequent falls, and pilgrims exhausted with fatigue, who could not continue their route, and filled the air and mountains with their cries and groans. The passage of the Christian army across this mountain occupied several days; but when they had at length passed the chains of Mount Taurus and Mount Amanus, the sight of Syria revived their courage, and made them quickly forget all their fatigues. That country into which they were about to enter embraced within its territories Palestine, the object of all their wishes, prayers, and labours. In all ages Syria has attracted conquerors, by the fertility of its soil and its wealth. In the time of David and Solomon, it already boasted several flourishing cities. At the period of the Crusades it had undergone a great many revolutions, but its fields, though covered with celebrated ruins, still preserved some portion of their fecundity.
The first of the Syrian provinces that presented itself to the eyes of the Christians was the territory of Antioch. Towards the east extended the states of the sultans of Aleppo and Mousoul. Further, at the foot of Mount Libanus, was seen the principality of Damascus; on the coast stood Laodicea, Tripoli, and the cities of Sidon and Tyre, so celebrated in both sacred and profane antiquity. All these cities, which scarcely maintained a shadow of their former splendour, were governed by emirs who had shaken off the yoke of the sultans of Persia, and reigned as sovereign princes over the ruins of the empire of Malek-Scha.
The Crusaders advanced as far as the ancient Chalcis, then called Artesia, of which they made themselves masters. To arrive before Antioch they had to pass over a bridge built over the Orontes, and defended by two towers masked with iron. Nothing could resist the van, commanded by the duke of Normandy. The Normans soon got possession of the bridge, and passed the river. Terror seized upon the Mussulman ranks, and they sought shelter, with the greatest haste, within the walls of the city. The whole Christian army, drawn up in battle array, with trumpets sounding and flags flying, marched towards Antioch and encamped within a mile of its walls.
The sight of this city, so celebrated in the annals of Christianity, revived the enthusiasm of the Crusaders. It was within the walls of Antioch that the disciples of Jesus Christ first assumed the title of Christians, and the apostle Peter was named the first pastor of the young church. No city had contained within its bosom a greater number of martyrs, saints, and doctors; no city had beheld more miracles worked for the faith. During many centuries, the faithful had been accustomed to come into one of its suburbs to pray at the tomb of St. Babylas, who, during the reign of Julian, had silenced the oracles of Apollo. For a long time Antioch was considered in Christendom as the eldest daughter of Sion; it bore the name of Theopolis ’the city of God), and pilgrims visited it with no less respect than Jerusalem.
Antioch was as much celebrated in the annals of Rome as in those of the Church. The magnificence of its edifices and the residence of several emperors had obtained it the name of the Queen of the East. Its situation, amidst a smiling and fertile country, attracted strangers to it at all times. At two leagues eastward was a lake abounding in fish, which communicated with the Orontes; whilst