Here, indeed, the delirium of enthusiasm grew daily in intensity. During the winter of 1095-96 nothing but the sound of preparation was heard throughout the length and breadth of the land. It was not enough that knights and men-at-arms should take upon them the vows of the Cross; it behoved every man who could carry a pike or wield a sword to join the army of deliverance. Artisans left their work, merchants their shops, labourers their tools, and the very robbers and brigands came out from their hiding-places, with the intention of atoning for their past sins by fighting in the army of the Lord. All industry, save that of the forging of weapons, ceased; for six whole months there was no crime; for six months an uninterrupted Peace of God, concluded by tacit consent, while the _croisés_ crowded the churches to implore the divine protection and blessing, to consecrate their arms, and to renew their vows. In order to procure horses, armour, and arms, the price of which went up enormously, the knights sold their lands at prices far below their real value; the lands were in many cases bought up by far-seeing abbots and attached to monasteries, so that the Church, at least, might be enriched, whatever happened. No sacrifice, however, appeared too great in the enthusiasm of departure; no loss too heavy to weigh for one moment against the obligation of the sacred oath. And strange signs and wonders began to appear in the heavens. Stars were seen to fall upon the earth: these were the kings and chiefs of the Saracens; unearthly flames were visible at night: these betokened the conflagration of the Mohammedan strong places; blood-red clouds, stained with the blood of the Infidel, hovered over the east; a sword-shaped comet, denoting the sword of the Lord, was in the south; and in the sky were seen, not once, but many times, the towers of a mighty city and the legions of a mighty host.