A second council, more imposing on account of the dignitaries present, was held at Clermont in November of the same year. In his speech Urban wrought the assembly to a fury of enthusiasm as he cried, “Exterminate this vile race [Turks and Arabs] from the land ruled by our brethren.... It is Christ who commands.... If any lose your lives on the journey by land or sea or in fighting against the heathen, their sins shall be remitted in that hour. This I grant through the power of God vested in me.... Let those who have hitherto been robbers now become soldiers. Let those who have formerly been mercenaries at low wages now gain eternal rewards. Let those who have been exhausting themselves to the detriment both of body and soul now strive for a twofold reward, on earth and in heaven.” This impassioned appeal was answered by the cry of bishop and lord and knight, and was reëchoed by the assembled populace, “Deus vult! Deus vult!” (“God wills it!”) “Deus vult! let that be your watch-cry,” responded the pontiff. All ranks and conditions of men thronged to receive the cross, if possible from the hands of the Holy Father himself. This was a strip of red cloth given with the assuring words, “Wear it upon your shoulders and your breasts; it will be either the surety of victory or the palm of martyrdom.” All priests throughout Europe were authorized to give the sacred symbol, with the full papal benediction, to the people in their parishes. Many, in their infatuation, burned the cross-mark into their quivering flesh; others, grown insane through zealotry, imagined the stigmata—as these signs were called—to have been produced by miraculous process. An impostor was readily credited with having received the mark on his forehead by the hand of an angel, and confessed the fraud, but not until after he had been invested with the archbishopric of Cæsarea in Palestine.