e of joy indeed: the citadel was surrendered
at once, and many of the Turkish garrison embraced the Christian faith,
and the rest were suffered to depart. A solemn thanksgiving was offered up
by the Bishop of Puy, in which the whole army joined, and the Holy Lance
was visited by every soldier.

The enthusiasm lasted for some days, and the army loudly demanded to be
led forward to Jerusalem, the grand goal of all their wishes: but none of
their leaders was anxious to move;--the more prudent among them, such as
Godfrey and Tancred, for reasons of expediency; and the more ambitious,
such as the Count of Toulouse and Bohemund, for reasons of self-interest.
Violent dissensions sprang up again between all the chiefs. Raymond of
Toulouse, who was left at Antioch to guard the town, had summoned the
citadel to surrender, as soon as he saw that there was no fear of any
attack upon the part of the Persians; and the other chiefs found, upon
their return, his banner waving on its walls. This had given great offence
to Bohemund, who had stipulated the principality of Antioch as his reward
for winning the town in the first instance. Godfrey and Tancred supported
his claim, and, after a great deal of bickering, the flag of Raymond was
lowered from the tower, and that of Bohemund hoisted in its stead, who
assumed from that time the title of Prince of Antioch. Raymond, however,
persisted in retaining possession of one of the city gates and its
adjacent towers, which he held for several months, to the great annoyance
of Bohemund and the scandal of the army. The count became in consequence
extremely unpopular, although his ambition was not a whit more
unreasonable than that of Bohemund himself, nor of Baldwin, who had taken
up his quarters at Edessa, where he exercised the functions of a petty
sovereign.

The fate of Peter Barthelemy deserves to be recorded. Honours and
consideration had come thick upon him after the affair of the lance, and
he consequently felt bound in conscience to continue the dreams which had
made him a personage of so much importance. The mischief of it was, that,
like many other liars, he had a very bad memory, and he contrived to make
his dreams contradict each other in the most palpable manner. St. John one
night appeared to him, and told one tale; while, a week after, St. Paul
told a totally different story, and held out hopes quite incompatible with
those of his apostolic brother. The credulity of that age had a