Count Joscelin, fearing he had escaped, ordered Turkish corpses to be examined. By insignia on his armor they found him so his head was lopped off. The soldier who brought it to Joscelin got forty nomismata, which is to say forty pieces of gold. Joscelin despatched Balak’s head to Jerusalem as proof that he would trouble the Holy Land no further. And the squire who brought such joyful news found himself elevated to the rank of knight. And all who contemplated the bloody face in the sack gave thanks because a raging dragon that feasted on pilgrims had lost his appetite.
Archbishop William relates that Count Joscelin himself met the Turk, hurled him to earth and took his head. Through the mist of centuries what may be resolved? Only that Balak’s vision came true since he had dreamt of Joscelin scooping out his eyes and whoever cuts off a man’s head destroys his sight.
In the following year King Baldwin erected a castle near Beyrouth at a place called the hill of the sword, Mons Glavianus, because those condemned to death are brought here for execution. He did this to convince Saracen peasants they ought to pay taxes, which they had been reluctant to do. And when these unbelievers looked up from their fields at a castle bristling with Christian soldiers they amended their habit. Is not the coercion of a sword to be admired? Has not Almighty God so enjoined us? Thou shalt rule with a rod of iron.
Now in the year 1127 since the birth of our Savior, in the fifth indiction, a host of rats marched across the Holy Land. They were observed to seize an ox by its hindquarters and smother and eat him. They devoured seven powerful rams and numberless small creatures, then scurried up the mountain of Tyre to quench their thirst. Savage wind and rain drove them into the confinement of valleys where multitudes perished. For a long while those valleys stank with corruption. What is this, if not some allegory of our time?
Are not the articles of Christian faith described with pictures and with letters? Yet no man is able to describe the Trinity, nor the Holy Ghost, nor anything so vast because of many sins and evils we commit, which weigh down mortal life, which blind us to the sovereign light. Hence, disaster befell the Franks. Bohemond’s son marched along the river Jihan and proceeded carelessly. They say this prince was of great stature, tall, in aspect like his father, with an air of high breeding from his mother Constance. He expected to recoup Anazarbus, which was lost. But all at once Danishmend Turks surprised him and destroyed his army. He was slain because these Turks failed to recognize him, otherwise they would have made him captive for the huge ransom he would fetch. As it was, they embalmed the handsome blond head, fashioned a silver box, and presented this trophy to the caliph. Some argue that Prince Bohemond now wears a finer crown than any he might have worn on earth. Others say that if we but acknowledged the power of Jesus Christ, recognizing how we live beneath His feet, we should never do wrong.
One year later King Baldwin du Bourg lay dying. At his request he was borne to the house of the patriarch close by the Holy Sepulcher so that his spirit might bask in its radiance. He summoned the nobles, together with his eldest daughter Melisende and her husband Fulk d’Anjou, bidding all to honor them as sovereigns upon his dissolution. He requested the habit of a monk, which was put on him, and he was admitted a canon of the assembly. No more was this complete than the second crowned king of Jerusalem ascended to glory. Ibn al-Qalanisi, a misbeliever, took note, calling him an old man polished by time and bad luck, remarking that Frankish authority now descended to the inexperienced hands of Fulk d’Anjou who had but recently arrived.
That same year Count Joscelin gave up the ghost. While exploring the province he came upon a turret of sundried brick with enemies of the true faith inside. Therefore he instructed his men to dig at the foundation and most unwisely examined the shaft they dug. Now the body is a vulnerable, worthless master and when bricks dropped into the tunnel he was at once buried, bones cracked. They pulled him out half-dead and returned to the castle at Turbessel. Here for a long time Joscelin’s body lingered, detaining his spirit, which struggled to depart. Then all unexpected came a messenger. Turks on the northeast frontier were moving toward the fortress of Kaisun. Lord Joscelin told his son to call up the army but his son offered excuses, saying they had not enough men, saying this Turk, the sultan of Iconium, had brought a mighty host. With sorrow and bitterness the old count understood what sort of a man his son would be. Therefore he himself called up the army and directed that a litter be prepared, since he was unable to ride or march. It is said he traveled some distance on his litter when here came Geoffrey the Monk with news. These Turks, hearing that Count Joscelin advanced, conferred among themselves, lifted the siege of Kaisun and fled. So when he learned they were gone he had himself lowered to the earth. He raised both arms to heaven and with tears and sighs he spoke. Lord God, I praise and give thanks as best I can that You have thus honored me, that You have been so merciful and generous that
