They bore him along, still living. On the third day of the week the end came, and Baldwin died. With his last breath he named his brother Eustace as his successor, but if he would not take the crown, he gave them liberty to choose any other. Odo the cook executed his wishes; his bowels were buried at Al Arish, and the little army, in sadness and with misgivings of evil, returned to Jerusalem, bringing with them the king who had so often led them to victory. It was on Palm Sunday when they arrived. They met, in the valley of Jehoshaphat, the people of the city all dressed in festival garb, and singing psalms of joy, to celebrate the feast. Joy was turned into mourning, and the procession of clergy which was descending the Mount of Olives met, “by express order of God, and an inconceivable chance,” the little troop which bore back the remains of the king. They buried him beside his brother: Baldwin du Bourg, the Count of Edessa, being the chief mourner, as he was his nearest relation.[58] Footnote 58: The epitaph on his tomb described him as Judæ alter Machabæus Spes patriæ, vigor ecclesiæ. It was obviously not written by the Patriarch Dagobert. So died the greatest of the Christian kings, the strongest as well as the wisest. His faults were those of the age; he was, however, before the age; not so cruel, not so ignorant, not so superstitious, not so bigoted. He was among the first to recognise the fact that a man may be an infidel and yet be worthy of friendship; he was also the first to resist the extravagant pretensions of the Church, and the greed of the Latin priests. He was, like his brother, the defender by oath of the Holy Sepulchre, but he would not consent to become a mere servant of the patriarch while he was styled the king of the country. We have stated above that his chief fault was an excessive love of women, and this he was wise enough to conceal. But the charge is brought forward by his priestly biographers, who, which is significant, do not advance against him a single definite case to support it. William of Tyre wanted something, perhaps, to allege against a man who dared beard a bishop at his own table, and swear at his gluttony and luxury. In any case he had very little leisure for indulgence in vice. He married three times, his first wife being an Englishwoman, who died on her way out. His second was the daughter of an Armenian prince, whom he divorced on the charge of adultery. Dagobert maintained that she was innocent, probably with a view to blacken the character of the king, but the divorced queen, going to Constantinople, justified by her conduct there the worst accusations that could be brought against her. The third time he married the widow of Roger, Count of Sicily, Adelaide by name. She brought whole shiploads of treasure with her; the marriage was celebrated with every demonstration of joy, and the new queen’s