they, then, your war-cry in the combat, for those words came forth
from God. Let the army of the Lord when it rushes upon His enemies
shout but that one cry, 'Dieu le veult! Dieu le veult!' Let whoever
is inclined to devote himself to this holy cause make it a solemn
engagement, and bear the cross of the Lord either on his breast or his
brow till he set out, and let him who is ready to begin his march
place the holy emblem on his shoulders, in memory of that precept of
our Saviour, 'He who does not take up his cross and follow me is not
worthy of me.'"

The news of this council spread to the remotest parts of Europe in
an incredibly short space of time. Long before the fleetest horseman
could have brought the intelligence it was known by the people in
distant provinces, a fact which was considered as nothing less than
supernatural. But the subject was in everybody's mouth, and the minds
of men were prepared for the result. The enthusiastic only asserted
what they wished, and the event tallied with their prediction. This
was, however, quite enough in those days for a miracle, and as a
miracle every one regarded it.

For several months after the council of Clermont, France and
Germany presented a singular spectacle. The pious, the fanatic, the
needy, the dissolute, the young and the old, even women and children,
and the halt and lame, enrolled themselves by hundreds. In every
village the clergy were busied in keeping up the excitement, promising
eternal rewards to those who assumed the red cross, and fulminating
the most awful denunciations against all the worldly-minded who
refused or even hesitated. Every debtor who joined the crusade was
freed by the papal edict from the claims of his creditors; outlaws of
every grade were made equal with the honest upon the same conditions.