Many of the Crusaders endeavoured to fly from a city which presented to them nothing but the image and the prospect of death; some fled by sea, through a thousand dangers, whilst others cast themselves amongst the Mussulmans, where they purchased a little bread by the abandonment of Christ and his religion. The soldiers necessarily lost courage when they saw that count de Melun, who so often defied death in the field, a second time fly from famine and misery. His desertion was preceded by that of the count de Blois, who bore the standard of the Crusaders, and presided at their councils. He had quitted the army two days before the taking of Antioch, and when he learned the arrival of Kerboghâ, he, with his troops, immediately marched towards Constantinople.
Deserters made their escape during the darkness of night. Sometimes they precipitated themselves into the ditches of the city, at the risk of their lives; sometimes they descended from the ramparts by means of a cord. Every day the Christians found themselves abandoned by an increasing number of their companions; and these desertions added to their despair. Heaven was invoked against the dastards; God was implored that they might, in another life, share the fate of the traitor Judas. The ignominious epithet of rope-dancers ’sauteurs de corde) was attached to their names, and devoted them to the contempt of their companions. William of Tyre refuses to name the crowd of knights who then deserted the cause of Jesus Christ, because he considers them as blotted out from the book of life for ever.[119] The wishes of the Christians against those who fled were but too completely fulfilled; the greater part perished from want, and others were killed by the Saracens. Stephen, count of Chartres, more fortunate than his companions, succeeded in reaching the camp of Alexius, who was advancing with an army towards Antioch. To excuse his desertion, he did not fail to paint, in the darkest colours, all the misfortunes and dangers of the Christians, and to make it appear by his accounts that God had abandoned the cause of the Crusaders. The despair of several Latin pilgrims who followed the army of the Greeks was so violent, that it urged them to horrible blasphemies.[120] They, groaning, asked why the true God had permitted the destruction of his people? why he had allowed them, who were going to deliver the tomb of his Son, to fall into the hands of his enemies? Nothing was heard among the Latin Crusaders but such strange speeches, and Guy, the brother of Bohemond, exceeded all the rest in his despair. In the excess of his grief, he blasphemed more than any, and could not understand the mysteries of Providence, which betrayed the cause of the Christians. “O God,” cried he, “what is become of thy power? If thou art still an all-powerful God, what is become of thy justice? Are we not thy children, are we not thy soldiers? Who is the father of a family, who is the king who thus suffers his own to perish when he has the power to save them? If you abandon those who fight for you, who will dare, henceforward, to range themselves under your sacred banner?” In their blind grief, all the Crusaders repeated these impious words. Such was the frenzy of despair in which sorrow had plunged them, that, according to the report of contemporary historians, all ceremonies of religion were suspended, and no priest or layman during many days pronounced the name of Jesus Christ.
The emperor Alexius, who had advanced as far as Philomelium, was so terrified by all he heard, that he did not dare to continue his march towards Antioch. He thought, says Anna Comnena, it was rash to attempt to succour a city whose fortifications had been ruined by a long siege, and whose only defenders were soldiers reduced to the lowest state of misery. Alexius further reflected, says the same historian, upon the indiscretion and the inconstancy of the Franks, upon their manner of making war without art or rules, and upon the imprudence with which, after having conquered their enemies, they allowed themselves to be surprised by the very same people whom they had conquered. He likewise thought of the difficulty he should have in making his arrival known to the Crusaders, and of the still greater difficulty of making their leaders agree with him upon the best means to save them. All these motives appeared reasonable; but it is easy to believe that Alexius was not sorry to see a war going on which destroyed at the same time both Turks and Latins. However it may be, the resolution which he took of returning to Constantinople threw all the Christians of Phrygia and Bithynia into the greatest alarm. The report then current was ’and if we may believe Anna Comnena, it was from the insinuations of Alexius) that the Mussulmans were approaching with numerous armies. They were constantly believed to be coming, and the soldiers of the emperor themselves laid waste all the country round Philomelium, which, they said, the Saracens were about to invade. Women, children, all the Christian families followed the army of Alexius, as it returned to Constantinople. They bade an eternal adieu to their native country, and deplored the loss of their property of all kinds. Nothing was heard in the army but lamentations and groans; but they who evinced the greatest grief were the Latins, whose wishes were all centred in Syria, and who lost all hope of assisting their brethren besieged in the city of Antioch.
When the news of this retreat reached Antioch, it greatly augmented the depression of the Crusaders. Not a hope remained to them; famine carried off every day a great number of soldiers; their weakened arms could scarcely lift the lance or the sword; they had neither strength to defend their own lives nor to bury their dead. In the midst of such frightful misery, not a tear was seen, not a sob was heard; the silence was as complete in Antioch as if the city had been buried in the most profound night, as if not one living person was left in it. The Crusaders had not even the courage of despair left. The last feeling of nature, the love of life, was becoming daily extinct in their hearts; they feared to meet each other in the public places, and concealed themselves in the interior of the houses, which they looked upon as their tombs.
The towers and the ramparts remained almost without defence. Bohemond, who had taken the command of the place, sought in vain by his speeches to raise the courage of the Crusaders; in vain the trumpets and the serjeants-at-arms called them to the combat. Whilst the Mussulmans shut up in the citadel, and those who besieged the city, every day renewed their attacks, the Christian warriors remained immovable in their dwellings. In order to drive them from their retreats, Bohemond was obliged to give several quarters of the city up to the flames. Raoul de Caen deplores, in pompous verses, the conflagration and the ruin of churches and palaces, built with the cedars of Mount Lebanon, and in which shone the marble of Mount Atlas, the crystal of Tyre, the brass of Cyprus, the lead of Amathontis, and the iron of England. The barons who could no longer enforce the obedience of their soldiers, had not strength to offer them an example. Then they bitterly remembered their families, their castles, their wealth, all which they had quitted for this unfortunate war; they could not comprehend the reverses of the Christian army, and little was wanting, says William of Tyre, to make them accuse God of ingratitude, for having refused so many sacrifices made to the glory of his name.
Matthew of Edessa relates that the Christian leaders offered to give up the city to Kerboghâ, upon the single condition that he would allow them and their soldiers to return to their own countries, taking with them their baggage. As the Saracen general rejected their proposal, several of them, actuated by despair, formed the project of abandoning the army, and flying by night towards the coast, but were prevented by the exhortations of Godfrey and Bishop Adhemar, who pointed out to them the disgrace which such a step would bring upon them in the eyes of both Europe and Asia.
The famine had continued its ravages for more than two weeks, and the Mussulmans pressed on the siege with the greater ardour, from the conviction that they should soon be masters of the city. Fanaticism and superstition, which had precipitated the Crusaders into the abyss in which they were now plunged, alone had the power to reanimate their courage, and extricate them from such fearful perils. Prophecies, revelations, and miracles became every day the more frequent subjects of report in the Christian army. St. Ambrose had appeared to a venerable priest, and had told him that the Christians, after overcoming all their enemies, would enter Jerusalem as conquerors, and that God would there reward their exploits and their labours.[121] A Lombard ecclesiastic had passed the night in one of the churches of Antioch, and had there seen Jesus Christ, accompanied by the Virgin and the prince of the apostles. The Son of God, irritated