Passing onward to Laodicea they found that town completely deserted, and the environs laid waste; and they here heard of the complete destruction of that part of the German army which had been commanded by the Bishop of Freysinghen.[584] In the second day's journey after quitting Laodicea, a steep mountain presented itself before the French army, which marched in two bodies, separated by a considerable distance. The commander of the first division, named Geoffroy de Rancun,[585] had received orders from the king, who remained with the rear-guard, to halt on the summit of the steep, and there pitch the tents for the night. That Baron, unencumbered by baggage, easily accomplished the ascent, and finding that the day's progress was considerably less than the usual extent of march, forgot the commands he had received, and advanced two or three miles beyond the spot specified. The king, with the lesser body of effective troops and the baggage, followed slowly up the mountain, the precipitous acclivity of which rendered the footing of the horses dreadfully insecure, while immense masses of loose stone gave way at every step under the feet of the crusaders,[586] and hurried many down into a deep abyss, through which a roaring torrent was rushing onward towards the sea. Suddenly, as they were toiling up, the whole army of the Turks, who had remarked the separation of the division, and watched their moment too surely, appeared on the hill above. A tremendous shower of arrows instantly assailed the Christians. The confusion and dismay were beyond description: thousands fell headlong at once down the precipice, thousands were killed by the masses of rock which the hurry and agitation of those at the top hurled down upon those below; while the Turks, charging furiously all who had nearly climbed to the summit, drove them back upon the heads of such as were ascending.