Boemond for some time, through a proselyte Turk to whom he had given his name at baptism, had kept up a communication with the commander of one of the chief towers, on that part of the city wall which looked towards the gorges of the mountains. This man,[347] by birth an Armenian, had embraced Mahometanism, and raised himself high in the opinion of the prince of Antioch. He had in consequence received the command of the important[348] station I have mentioned, while his two brothers occupied the neighbouring towers.[349] The origin of his communication with Boemond is variously stated, but the event is the same. He was won over by magnificent promises to engage that he would admit that chief and his followers into the town when called upon.
Boemond, however, did not intend at all that the intelligence which he had thus practised within the walls should be lost to himself, and benefit others alone:[350] but knowing[351] the jealous nature of his companions, he waited patiently till circumstances compelled them to concede to him the sovereignty of Antioch, in the event of its being taken by his means. At first the proposal was rejected by the other leaders; but soon, increasing reports that an immense army, commanded by the warlike sultaun of Persia, was advancing to the relief of the besieged, induced the Christian chiefs, under the distress and despondency which affected the army generally, to concur in the views of the ambitious Prince of Tarentum. Boemond then intrusted his secret to Godfrey and the other great leaders, but it was under the most solemn promises of silence[352] on the subject; for, notwithstanding all the precautions that could be taken, it was well known that the Turkish spies infested the Christian camp. With the utmost caution all the measures were concerted for carrying the project into effect, and through the whole army the rumour was spread that the preparations made by the chiefs were for the purpose of laying an ambush for the Persian forces, that were approaching. Phirouz, the Armenian traitor, was warned that Boemond was about to take advantage of his offer; and as soon as night had completely set in, the Prince of Tarentum, with a body of chosen knights, proceeded into the mountains,[353] as if with the design of surprising the host of the Persians. Only seven hundred men, however, were selected for this perilous expedition; and marching in the dead of the night, they crossed the valleys and precipices of the rocky chain on which the city rested, and halted in a deep dell at some distance from the walls. The wind was blowing in sharp gusts, and its howlings among the gorges of the mountains prevented the tramp of the armed men from reaching the watchers on the walls. Having assembled their forces in the valley, Godfrey and Boemond explained to their followers the real nature of the enterprise they meditated. A single interpreter was sent forward, to confer with their traitorous coadjutor, and to ascertain that all was prepared. Phirouz assured him that he was ready, and asked eagerly where were the knights; being told that they were near,[354] he pressed them to advance, lest any thing should excite the suspicion of the other commanders, especially as, from time to time, men with lighted torches patrolled the wall during the night, and it was necessary that they should take advantage of the interval. Godfrey, Robert of Flanders, and Boemond instantly led the troops to the foot of the fortifications; a rope was let down, and a ladder of hides raised. At first,[355] no one could be found to mount. Unaccustomed to carry on any warlike operations during the night, a thousand unwonted fears took possession of the bosoms of the crusaders. At length, urged by the chiefs, and encouraged by Phirouz from above, one knight--which of the body is not certain[356]--began to ascend the ladder, and was followed by several others. Silence then succeeded, and temporary hesitation once more took possession of the force below: but the voices of their companions who had ascended, whispering assurances of safety and fidelity, soon renewed their courage, and many attempting to climb the ladder at once,[357] it gave way under their weight, precipitating them upon the lance-heads that were buried in the fosse. The clang of their armour as they fell was a new cause of alarm, lest the sound should reach the other towers: so loud, however, was the roaring of the wind, and the hollow rushing sound of the Orontes, that the noise was not heard by any but those immediately around. The ladder was easily repaired, and more than sixty knights had reached the top of the battlements when the torch of the patrol began to gleam along the walls in its approach towards them.