Accordingly, wars became matters of almost annual occurrence, and "never, during the whole eighty years of its existence, was the kingdom of Jerusalem free from war and war's alarms."[6] The bulk of the original Crusaders left alive soon returned to their homes in Europe. There was little or no native Christian population on which to draw, and the kingdom became dependent for the support of its army, both as to men and money, on the pilgrims that swarmed from Europe to Jerusalem; naval assistance was given by Genoese and by Venetians, more, alas, from motives of commerce than of piety. Religious enthusiasm had been capable of conquering and establishing this kingdom, but it proved quite unequal to the tasks of sustenance or protection. And so, after eighty years of romance and trouble, of love and war, of lust and murder, often inflicted, more often endured, this kingdom fell, because it had no sure foundation. The decline and fall of the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem forms a sordid story of jealousy, and intrigue, of futile ambition and divided counsels, of perjury and perfidy. The Crusaders intermarried with the women of the country, and, except so far as it was constantly recruited from Europe, the race rapidly degenerated. With no resources at their back, except the charity of Europe, the Crusaders yet had dreams of worldly aggrandisement, which included in their ken the whole of Egypt and Syria. The Second Crusade of 1146-9 came, not to conquer, but to support and defend this already tottering kingdom. It did that kingdom more harm than good, for it drained Europe of its potential pilgrims, anticipating and exhausting the natural flow of men and money on which the kingdom had come to rely, and dissipated them on a futile attempt to annex Damascus. The Knights Templars, the feudal barons of the country, built castles throughout the land, and lived at constant variance with the King and central government. Every baron fought for his own land and for his own aggrandisement. The kingdom of Jerusalem was fast tottering to its fall. It was in 1187 that Saladin, having made himself master of Egypt and of Damascus, attacked Tiberias, as a first step towards overthrowing the kingdom of Jerusalem. The Crusaders moved against him from Seffuriyeh. It was July, and the Crusaders were absolutely without water; the Saracens, with Lake Tiberias at their back, had abundance. The Crusaders, suffering terribly from thirst, nevertheless attacked. The result of the battle was a foregone conclusion. Here, at the Horns of Hattin, the Mount of Beatitudes, was the Crusaders' army destroyed and the power of the Christian completely crushed. Jerusalem itself, after a short, fierce struggle, fell in the following October. The inhabitants were not put to the sword. Huge ransoms were paid and the Christian population allowed to disperse throughout Syria. Jerusalem had passed again (it seemed as if for ever) into the hands of the Mahomedan.