cil of Clermont, France and Germany
presented a singular spectacle. The pious, the fanatic, the needy, the
dissolute, the young and the old, even women and children, and the halt
and lame, enrolled themselves by hundreds. In every village the clergy
were busied in keeping up the excitement, promising eternal rewards to
those who assumed the red cross, and fulminating the most awful
denunciations against all the worldly-minded who refused or even
hesitated. Every debtor who joined the crusade was freed by the papal
edict from the claims of his creditors; outlaws of every grade were
made equal with the honest upon the same conditions. The property of
those who went was placed under the protection of the church, and St.
Paul and St. Peter themselves were believed to descend from their high
abode, to watch over the chattels of the absent pilgrims. Signs and
portents were seen in the air to increase the fervour of the multitude.
An aurora-borealis of unusual brilliancy appeared, and thousands of the
crusaders came out to gaze upon it, prostrating themselves upon the
earth in adoration. It was thought to be a sure prognostic of the
interposition of the Most High; and a representation of his armies
fighting with and overthrowing the infidels. Reports of wonders were
everywhere rife. A monk had seen two gigantic warriors on horseback,
the one representing a Christian and the other a Turk, fighting in the
sky with flaming swords, the Christian of course overcoming the Paynim.
Myriads of stars were said to have fallen from heaven, each
representing the fall of a Pagan foe. It was believed at the same time
that the Emperor Charlemagne would rise from the grave, and lead on to
victory the embattled armies of the Lord. A singular feature of the
popular madness was the enthusiasm of the women. Everywhere they
encouraged their lovers and husbands to forsake all things for the holy
war. Many of them burned the sign of the cross upon their breasts and
arms, and coloured the wound with a red dye, as a lasting memorial of
their zeal. Others, still more zealous, impressed the mark by the same
means upon the tender limbs of young children and infants at the breast.

Guibert de Nogent tells of a monk who made a large incision upon his
forehead in the form of a cross, which he coloured with some powerful
ingredient, telling the people that an angel had done it when he was
asleep. This monk appears to have been more of a rogue than a fool, fo