BOOK VI.
SECOND CRUSADE.
A.D. 1142-1148.
The Christian colonies, threatened by the Mussulmans, called upon the princes of Europe to assist them. The bishop of Gaballa in Syria, accompanied by a great number of priests and knights, repaired to Viterbo, where the sovereign pontiff then resided. The recitals of the Christian embassy not only caused tears to flow from the eyes of the chief of the faithful; the misfortunes of Edessa, and the impending dangers of Jerusalem excited universal commiseration and dread. Cries of alarm were raised throughout Europe. Forty-five years had passed away since the deliverance of the Holy Sepulchre, yet the minds of men were not at all changed, and eagerly, as at the first crusade, they flew to arms. In this instance it was principally the voice of St. Bernard that excited the nations and kings of Christendom to range themselves under the banners of the cross. Born of a noble family of Burgundy, St. Bernard, whilst yet in the dawn of manhood, had, with thirty relations and companions whom his discourses and his example[264] influenced, secluded himself in the monastery of Citteaux. He was sent two years after to Clairvaux, a then unknown retreat, which he vivified with his presence, and rendered one of the most celebrated monasteries of Christendom. Many of the most learned doctors consulted the wisdom of the abbot of Clairvaux, and several councils bowed to his decisions. By the power of his eloquence alone he humbled the anti-pope Leo, and placed Innocent II. in the chair of St. Peter. Pope Innocent III. and Abbot Suger were his disciples. Prelates, princes, and monarchs glorified themselves in following his counsels, believing that God spoke by his mouth.
When the ambassadors from the East arrived in Europe, Louis VII. had just ascended the throne of France. The reign of this young monarch began under the most happy auspices. Most of the great vassals who had revolted against the royal authority had laid down their arms and renounced their pretensions. By a marriage with the daughter of William IX., Louis had added the duchy of Aquitaine to his kingdom. France, in her enlarged condition, had nothing to fear from neighbouring states, and whilst civil wars were desolating both England and Germany, she nourished in peace under the administration of Suger.
Peace was not for a moment disturbed but by the unjust pretensions of the pope and by the intrigues of Thibaut, count of Champagne, who took advantage of the ascendancy he had over the clergy to direct the thunders of the Church against his sovereign. Louis resisted the attempts of the Holy See with firmness, and was determined to punish a rebellious and dangerous vassal. Urged on by a spirit of blind revenge, he carried fire and sword through the states of Thibaut; he besieged Vitri; was himself first in the assault, and put to the sword every inhabitant to be met with in the city. A great number of persons of all ages had taken refuge in a church, hoping to find the altar a secure asylum against the anger of a Christian prince; but Louis set fire to the church, and thirteen hundred people perished in the flames. An action so barbarous spread terror among the nation whom Louis was appointed to render happy; when he returned from this expedition to his capital, the people received him in melancholy silence; his ministers allowed him to read their regret in the dejection of their countenances; and St. Bernard, like another Ambrosius, boldly compelled him to hear the complaints of religion and outraged humanity.
In an eloquent letter, he represented to the monarch the country desolated, and pointed to the Church despised and trampled under foot. “I will fight for her,” he said, “to the death; but instead of bucklers and swords, I will employ the arms which become me—my tears and my prayers to God.” At the voice of the holy abbot, Louis became sensible of his error; and the dread of the anger of Heaven made such a lively impression upon his mind, that he sank into a deep and alarming depression. He believed he saw the hand of God ready to strike him; he renounced all pleasures, and abandoned even the care of his authority, in order to devote himself to grief and tears. The abbot of Clairvaux, who had awakened his remorse, was obliged to calm his spirits and reanimate his courage, by representing to him the great mercy of God. The king of France recovered from his remorseless dejection; but as in the opinion of his age great crimes could only be absolved by a voyage to the Holy Land, his earnest desire to expiate the tragical death of the inhabitants of Vitri made him form the resolution of going to combat against the infidels.
Louis VII. convoked an assembly at Bourges, at which he made his project known to the principal nobility and the clergy. Godfrey, bishop of Langres, applauded his zeal, and in a pathetic discourse deplored the captivity of Edessa, and the dangers and disasters of the Eastern Christians. His eloquence moved his auditors; but the oracle of the assembly, he who held all hearts in his hand, had not yet spoken. Whether that he was yet not convinced of the utility of the crusade, or that he was desirous of giving it more solemnity, St. Bernard advised the king of France to consult the Holy See before he undertook anything. This advice was generally approved of. Louis sent ambassadors to Rome, and resolved to convoke a new assembly as soon as he should have received the answer of the sovereign pontiff.
Eugenius III., who then filled the chair of St. Peter, had already in several of his letters solicited the assistance of the faithful against the Saracens. The Holy See had never had stronger motives for the preaching of a crusade. A spirit of sedition and heresy was beginning to insinuate itself among the people, and even among the clergy of the West, threatening at the same time the power of the popes and the doctrines of the Church. Eugenius had to contend against the troubles excited by Arnold of Bressia; and nothing was talked of in the capital of the Christian world but rebuilding the Capitol, and substituting for the pontifical authority that of the consuls and tribunes of ancient Rome. In such a state of things, a great event like that of a crusade was likely to turn men’s minds from dangerous novelties, and make them rally round the sanctuary. The sovereign pontiff could not avoid seeing in a holy war the double advantage of defending Jerusalem against the enterprises of the Saracens, and the Church and himself against the attacks of heretics and innovators. Eugenius congratulated the king of France on his pious determination, and by his letters again exhorted all Christians to assume the cross and take up arms, promising them the same privileges and the same rewards that Urban II. had granted to the warriors of the first crusade. Detained in Italy, where he was engaged in appeasing the troubles of Rome, he regretted not being able, as Urban had done, to cross the Alps, and reanimate the zeal of the faithful by his presence and his discourses; but he confided to St. Bernard the honourable mission of preaching the crusade in France and Germany.
After having received the approbation of the Holy See, Louis convoked a new assembly at Vèzelai, a little city of Burgundy; and the reputation of St. Bernard and the letters addressed by the pope to all Christendom, drew to this assembly a great number of nobles, knights, prelates, and men of all conditions. On the Palm-Sunday, after having invoked the Holy Ghost, all who had come to hear the abbot of Clairvaux repaired to the side of a hill just without the gates of the city. A large tribune was erected, in which the king in his royal robes, and St. Bernard in the humble costume of a cenobite, were saluted by the acclamations of an immense multitude. The orator of the crusade first read the letters of the sovereign pontiff, and then spoke to his auditors of the taking of Edessa by the Saracens, and of the desolation of the holy places. He showed them the universe plunged in terror on learning that God had begun to desert his beloved land;[265] he represented to them the city of Sion as imploring their succour, Christ as ready to immolate himself a second time for them, and the heavenly Jerusalem opening all its gates to receive the glorious martyrs of the faith. “You cannot but know,” said he to them, “we live in a period of chastisement and ruin; the enemy of mankind has caused the breath of corruption to fly over all regions; we behold nothing but unpunished wickedness. The laws of men or the laws of religion have no longer sufficient