The Christian armies, as in the first crusade, dragged in their train a great number of children, women, and old men, who could do nothing towards victory, and yet always greatly augmented the disorder and despair consequent upon a defeat. With this multitude no discipline could be established; nor is it apparent that the leaders made any attempt to prevent the effects of license. Geoffrey de Rançon, whose imprudence caused the destruction of half the French army, and placed the king of France in the greatest peril, had no other punishment but his repentance, and thought he expiated his neglect of duty by prostrating himself at the tomb of Christ. That which was still more injurious to discipline was the depravity of manners in the Christian army, which must be principally attributed to the great number of women that had taken arms, and mixed in the ranks of the soldiery. In this crusade there was a troop of Amazons, commanded by a general whose dress was much more admired than her courage, and whose gilded boots procured her the name of “the lady with the legs of gold.”
Another cause of the dissoluteness of manners was the extreme facility with which the most vicious men, even convicted malefactors, were admitted among the Crusaders. St. Bernard, who considered the crusade as a road to heaven, summoned the greatest sinners to take part in it, and rejoiced at seeing them thus enter into the way of eternal life. In a council of Rheims, of which the abbot of Clairvaux was the oracle, it was decreed that incendiaries should be punished by serving God one year either in Jerusalem or Spain. The ardent preacher of the holy war did not reflect that great sinners, enrolled under the banners of the cross, would be exposed to new temptations, and that during a long voyage it would be much more easy for them to corrupt their companions than to amend their own conduct. Disorders were unhappily tolerated by the leaders, who believed that Heaven was ever indulgent towards Crusaders, and did not wish to be more severe than it.
And yet the Christian army, amidst a most frightful state of morals, presented examples of an austere piety. Surrounded by the dangers of war, and harassed by the fatigues of a long pilgrimage, the king of France never neglected the most minute practices of religion. The greater part of the leaders took him for their model, and when in camp, paid more attention to religious processions than to military exercises; so that many warriors actually placed more confidence in their prayers than in their arms. In general, through the whole of this crusade, sufficient dependence was not placed on human means and human prudence,—everything was left to Providence, which seldom protects those who stray from the ways of reason and wisdom.
The first crusade had two distinctive characters,—piety and heroism; the second had scarcely any other principle but a piety which partook more of the devotion of the cloister than of a generous enthusiasm. The influence of the monks who had preached it, and who then meddled very much in temporal affairs, was but too evident through the whole of this crusade. The king of France in his misfortunes displayed nothing but the resignation of a martyr, and in the field of battle was only distinguished by the ardour and courage of a soldier. The emperor of Germany did not evince greater ability; he lost all by his mad presumption, and from having thought himself able to conquer the Turks without the assistance of the French. Both were limited in their views, and were greatly wanting in that energy which produces great actions. In the expedition which they directed, there was nothing elevated, everything seemed to keep down to the level of their character. In a word, this war developed neither heroic passions nor chivalric qualities. Camps had no great captains to admire or imitate; and the period we have described can boast of only two men of marked genius,—he who had roused the Western world by his eloquence, and the wise minister of Louis, who had to repair in France all the misfortunes of the crusade.
All the energies of this crusade were not directed against Asia. Several preachers, authorized by the Holy See, had exhorted the inhabitants of Saxony and Denmark to take up arms against some nations of the Baltic, still plunged in the darkness of paganism. This crusade was led by Henry of Saxony, several other princes, and a great number of bishops and archbishops. An army, composed of a hundred and fifty thousand Crusaders, attacked the barbarous and savage nation of the Sclaves, who unceasingly ravaged the sea-coasts, and made war upon the Christians. The Christian warriors wore upon their breasts a red cross, under which was a round figure, representing and symbolizing the earth, which ought to be obedient to the laws of Christ. Preachers of the gospel accompanied their march, and exhorted them to extend the limits of Christian Europe by their exploits. The Crusaders consigned to the flames several idolatrous temples, and destroyed the city of Malehon, in which the pagan priests were accustomed to assemble. In this holy war the Saxons treated a pagan people exactly as Charlemagne had treated their own ancestors; but they were not able to subdue the Sclaves. After a war of three years, the Saxon and Danish Crusaders grew weary of pursuing an enemy defended by the sea, and still further by their despair. They made proposals of peace; the Sclaves, on their part, promised to become converts to Christianity, and to respect Christian people.[289] They only made these promises to pacify their enemies; and when the latter laid down their arms, they returned to their idols and resumed their piracies.
Other Crusaders, to whom Christendom paid very little attention, prosecuted a more successful war on the banks of the Tagus. It was several centuries since Spain had been invaded by the Moors, and still two rival nations disputed empire and fought for territory in the names of Mahomet and Jesus Christ.[290] The Moors, often conquered by the Cid and his companions, had been driven from several provinces, and when the second crusade set out for the East, the Spaniards were besieging the city of Lisbon. The Christian army, small in numbers, was in daily expectation of reinforcements, when a fleet which was transporting to the East a great number of French Crusaders, entered the mouth of the Tagus. Alphonso, a prince of the house of Burgundy and grandson of King Robert, commanded the besieging army. He visited the Christian warriors, whom Heaven appeared to have sent to his assistance, and promised, as the reward of their co-operation, the conquest of a flourishing kingdom. He exhorted them to join him in combating those same Saracens whom they were going to seek in Asia through all the perils of the sea. “The God who had sent them would bless their army; noble pay and rich possessions would be the meed of their valour.” Nothing more was necessary to persuade warriors who had made a vow to fight with the infidels and who were eager for adventures. They abandoned their vessels and joined the besiegers. The Moors opposed them with determined pertinacity, but at the end of four months Lisbon was taken, and the garrison put to the sword. They afterwards besieged several other cities, which were wrested from the Saracens; Portugal submitted to the power of Alphonso, and he assumed the title of king. Amidst these conquests the Crusaders forgot the East, and, without incurring much danger, they founded a prosperous and splendid kingdom, which lasted much longer than that of Jerusalem.
We may judge by these crusades, undertaken at the same time, against nations of the north and others of the south, that the principle of holy wars began to assume a new character; Crusaders did not fight only for the possession of a sepulchre, but they took up arms to defend their religion wherever it might be attacked, and to make it triumphant among all nations that rejected its laws and refused its benefits. The diversity of interests which set the Crusaders in action, necessarily divided their forces, weakened their enthusiasm, and was sure to be injurious to the success of a holy war.
France, which then turned anxious looks towards Palestine, no longer demanded of God the deliverance of the holy places, but the return of a king over whose misfortunes they had wept. For a length