It is interesting to observe how the two great dominant forces, Christianity and the military spirit, co-operated, and even coalesced, yet allowed neither to govern in its proper sphere. The early Crusaders had piety enough to hold them to the march, notwithstanding the awful trail of death. They did not have enough to prevent their behaving on the way more like devils than Christians. They had sufficient military spirit to make them willing to fight, but not enough to make adequate preparation. The Christianity of that time had devotional but not humanizing power. It carried along faith, obedience to ceremonial, abundant prayers, personal humility; but it had little restraint for passion whether corporal or revengeful. Its hand was powerless to restrain fury or prevent or relieve misery "The knight before the battle was as devout as the bishop; the bishop in the battle as ferocious as the knight."[5] Little better fate availed the women when Christians prevailed than when Turks won the day. Whatever mourning there was for individuals, the failure to win the Holy City appears to have given more sorrow to Europe than the death of three hundred thousand men. [Sidenote: _Peter Ceases to be General_] One might gather up at this point the remaining appearances of Peter, and call his work done. But while he ceased to be a military leader, his work continued, his spiritual influence remained. We shall see him at one time arguing with Turks, and at another praying for victory over them. His strength and his weakness can only be brought out by briefly sketching some of the men who took up leadership after his failure, and with whose victories he was identified as priest, prophet, and participant. [Sidenote: _Godfrey of Bouillon_] [Sidenote: _A Great Character_] The noblest, greatest of the leaders was Godfrey of Bouillon, Duke of Lower Lorraine. Born in Brabant, the blood of Charlemagne was in his veins through his mother. He had fought for the antipope, and was the first to enter Rome when captured by the army of Henry. His sentiments changed until he was ready to expiate his sacrilege by a pilgrimage to Jerusalem and as a warrior for her deliverance. A giant in strength, a hero in bravery, his simplicity was that of a hermit. He was wise enough not to be reckless, and courageous enough never to shrink from the supreme moment of danger. The common soldier was his friend. His word to all was his bond. Men felt braver and safer under his lead. Others might seem by name to be weightier than he in leadership, but in fact he composed quarrels and compelled unity by his wisdom, and, in moments of peril, what he thought prevailed. [Sidenote: _Accessions to His Leadership_]