Chapter IV: The Third Crusade (2)

Disregarding the calls from England, the king led his English and Normans to the fortress of Darum, reduced it, and gave it to the French, whose preparations for the attack had been rendered needless by the superior activity of their allies. Some new messengers from England brought fresh accounts of the increasing power of Prince John, and the treachery of Philip Augustus. The army continued its march towards Jerusalem, and encamped in the valley of Hebron. The generals and soldiers vowed that they would not quit Palestine without having redeemed the sepulchre. Everything wore the face of joy when this resolution was adopted; Richard participated in the feeling, and although he thought that his presence in England would be the only means of restoring affairs there, yet he professed to the duke of Burgundy, and the count of Champagne, that no solicitation from Europe should prevail with him to leave the allies until after the following Easter. Hymns and thanksgivings testified the popular joy at this resolution.

The nearer the approach of the Christians the greater was the terror of the Mussulmans in Jerusalem; many of them prepared to leave the city, and even Saladin was alarmed for its safety. The crusaders were at Bethlehem; the French nobility in the council were as clamorous as the people without to press forward; but the mind of Richard vacillated, and he avowed his doubts of the policy of the measure, as his force was not adequate to a siege, and to the keeping up of communications with its stores on the coast. He proposed that they should march to Berytus, to Cairo, or Damascus; but as the barons of Syria, the Templars, and Hospitallers, had a perfect knowledge of Palestine, he thought that their decision should regulate the proceedings of the army.

THE ENTERPRISE ABANDONED

A council of twenty was accordingly appointed from the military orders, the lords of the Holy Land, and also the French knights. They learned that the Turks had destroyed all the cisterns, which were within two miles of the city; they felt that the heats of summer had begun; and for these reasons it was decided that the siege of Jerusalem should be deferred, and that the army should march to some other conquest. As a general, Richard was fully aware of the impolicy of advancing against the sacred city, yet he was unable to suppress his bitter feelings of mortification at a decision which would probably blast the proud hopes that he had indulged of redeeming the sepulchre. A friend led him to a hill which commanded a view of Jerusalem; but, covering his face with a shield, he declared that he was not worthy to behold a city which he could not conquer. The French soldiers uttered invectives and complaints against the decision of the council; Cœur de Lion offered them provisions, ships, and money, if they would obey its decree, and march to Cairo; and although they acquiesced, yet as they were not zealous, Richard remained in inactivity and indecision.

Active hostility against the Saracens was abandoned by the Christians for the fiercer employment of civil rancour and dissensions; and if a retreat had not been commanded, the army would have been totally destroyed by Saladin. Richard could preserve but little order and discipline among the soldiers. Some retired to Joppa, but Acre was the rendezvous of most of the army.

By the quickest marches Saladin reached Joppa, and so vigorous was his siege of it that in a few days one of the gates was broken down, and such of the people as could not defend themselves in the great tower, or escape by sea, were destroyed. Before the morning, however, the brave Plantagenet reached Joppa. Abandoning the hope of rescuing the Holy Land from infidel subjection, he was on the point of quitting Acre and of returning to Europe, when the precipitancy of his Moslem rival opened again all his visions of glory and conquest. The French refused to march; but the Templars and Hospitallers, the Pisans and Genoese, the earl of Leicester and the other English nobles, vowed to save their friends. Richard and some of his troops went by sea to Joppa; other soldiers took the land course, but were badly distressed by those impediments which Saladin, in anticipation of their approach, cast in their way. Plantagenet was the first who leaped on shore, and the most active with his deadly sword.[b]

There have been few feats of arms more renowned than this all-day fight of Richard, and the old chronicler, Geoffrey de Vinsauf, has written of it in such strain of enthusiasm that we cannot forbear quoting the splendid pictures, whose hyperbole is its own explanation and excuse.[a]

VINSAUF’S ACCOUNT OF RICHARD AT JOPPA

The king hearing of the danger to which the besieged were exposed and pitying their condition interrupted the messengers.

“As God lives,” said he, “I will be with them, and give them all the assistance in my power!” The words were hardly out of his mouth, before a proclamation was made that the army should be got ready. But the French would not vouchsafe even to honour the king with an answer, exclaiming proudly that they should never again march under his command; and in this they were not disappointed, for they never again marched under anybody’s command, for in a short time they all miserably perished. Meanwhile, however, the soldiers of all nations, whose hearts God had touched, and the sufferings of their fellow-creatures excited to compassion, hastened to set out with the king; namely, the Templars, the Hospitallers, and several other valiant knights, all of whom marched by land to Cæsarea; but the noble king trusting for his safety to his own valour, embarked on board his fleet of galleys, which were equipped with everything that could be necessary. A contrary wind arose, which detained the king’s ships three days at Caiphas, where they had put in.

The king, vexed at this delay, exclaimed aloud, “O Lord God, why dost thou detain us here? consider, I pray thee, the urgency of the case, and the devoutness of our wishes.” No sooner had he prayed thus than God caused a favourable wind to spring up, which wafted his fleet before it into the harbour of Joppa, in the midst of the night of Friday immediately preceding the Saturday on which they had agreed to surrender, and all of them would have been given over to destruction. They fled up the fortress as far as they were able, and there awaited the stroke of martyrdom, shedding tears, and supplicating the mercy of the Almighty who at length was appeased, and deigned to listen to their petition; their deliverer was already come, his fleet was riding in the harbour, and his soldiers were eager to land for their rescue!

The Turks, discovering the arrival of the king’s fleet, sallied down to the seaside with sword and shield, and sent forth showers of arrows: the shore was so thronged with their multitude that there was hardly a foot of ground to spare. Neither did they confine themselves to acting on the defensive, for they shot their arrows at the crews of the ships, and the cavalry spurred their horses into the sea to prevent the king’s men from landing. The king, gathering his ships together, consulted with his officers what was the best step to take.

“Shall we,” said he, “push on against this rabble multitude who occupy the shore, or shall we value our lives more than the lives of those poor fellows who are exposed to destruction for want of our assistance?” Some of them replied that further attempts were useless, for it was by no means certain that anyone remained alive to be saved, and how could they land in the face of so large a multitude?

The king looked around thoughtfully, and at that moment saw a priest plunge into the water and swim toward the royal galley. When he was received on board, he addressed the king with palpitating heart and spirits almost failing him. “Most noble king, the remnant of our people, waiting for your arrival, are exposed like sheep to be slain, unless the divine grace shall bring you to their rescue.” “Are any of them still alive, then?” asked the king, “and if so, where are they?” “There are still some of them alive,” said the priest, “and hemmed in and at the last extremity in front of yonder tower.” “Please God, then,” replied the king, “by whose guidance we have come, we will die with our brave brothers in arms, and a curse light on him who hesitates.”

The word was forthwith given, the galleys were pushed to land; the king dashed forward into the waves with his thighs unprotected by armour, and up to his middle in the water; he soon gained firm footing on the dry strand; behind him followed Geoffrey du Bois and Peter de Pratelles, and in the rear came all the others rushing through the waves. The Turks stood to defend the shore, which was covered with their numerous troops. The king, with an arbalest which he held in his hand, drove them back right and left; his companions pressed upon the recoiling enemy, whose courage quailed when they saw it was the king, and they no longer dared to meet him. The king brandished his fierce sword, which allowed them no time to resist, but they yielded before his fiery blows and were driven in confusion with blood and havoc by the king’s men until the shore was entirely cleared of them.

The king then, by a winding stair, which he had remarked in the house of the Templars, was the first to enter the town, where he found more than three thousand of the Turks turning over everything in the houses, and carrying away the spoil. The brave king had no sooner entered the town than he caused his banners to be hoisted on an eminence, that they might be seen by the Christians in the tower, who, taking courage at the sight, rushed forth in arms from the tower to meet the king, and at the report thereof the Turks were thrown into confusion. The king, meanwhile, with brandished sword, still pursued and slaughtered the enemy, who were thus enclosed between the two bodies of the Christians, and filled the streets with their slain. All were slain, except such as took to flight in time; and thus those who had before been victorious were now defeated and received condign punishment, whilst the king still continued the pursuit, showing no mercy to the enemies of Christ’s cross, whom God had given into his hands; for there never was a man on earth who so abominated cowardice as he.

But the king had only three horses with him, and what were three among so many? If we examine the deeds of the ancients, and all the records left us by former historians, we shall find that there never was a man who so distinguished himself in battle as King Richard did this day. When the Turks leaving the town saw his banners floating in the air, a cry was raised on right and left as he sallied forth upon them, and no hail-storm or tempest ever so densely concealed the sky, as it was then darkened by the flying arrows of the Turks. Saladin, hearing of the king’s arrival, and of his brilliant contest with the Turks, of whom he had slain all who opposed him, was seized with sudden fear, and like that timid animal, the hare, put spurs to his horse and fled from before his face. The king, with his men, still continued the pursuit, slaying and destroying, whilst his arbalesters made such havoc of the horses that for two miles the traces of their flight were visible. He now therefore pitched his tent in the same place where those of Saladin had been, and thus by the divine grace so small a body of men had defeated this large army of the Turks. It was then given out among the Turks what a reproach it was to them, and lasting scandal, that so large an army and so many thousands of the Turks had been defeated by so small an army, and that Joppa had been recovered from them by force of arms. In this manner they murmured to one another at what had taken place, and trembled with confusion.

Meanwhile a certain depraved set of men among the Saracens, called Menelones of Aleppo and Cordivi, an active race, met together to consult what should be done in the existing state of things. They spoke of the scandal which lay against them, that so small an army, without horses, had driven them out of Joppa, and they reproached themselves with cowardice and shameful laziness, and arrogantly made a compact among themselves that they would seize King Richard in his tent, and bring him before Saladin, from whom they would receive a most munificent reward. But now, by the providence of God, who had decreed that his holy champion should not be seized whilst asleep by the infidels, a certain Genoese was led by the divine impulse to go out early in the morning into the fields, where he was alarmed at the noise of men and horses advancing, and returned speedily, but just had time to see helmets reflecting back the light which now fell upon them. He immediately rushed with speed into the camp, calling out “To arms! to arms!” The king was awakened by the noise, and leaping startled from his bed, put on his impenetrable coat of mail, and summoned his men to the rescue.

God of all virtues! lives there a man who would not be shaken by such a sudden alarm? The enemy rushed unawares, armed against unarmed, many against few, for our men had no time to arm, or even to dress themselves. The king himself therefore, and many others with him, on the urgency of the moment, proceeded without their cuishes to the fight, some even without their breeches, and they armed themselves in the best manner they could, though they were going to fight the whole day. Whilst our men were thus arming in haste, the Turks drew near, and the king mounted his horse with only ten other knights. These alone had horses, and some even of those they had were base and impotent horses unused to arms; the common men were skilfully drawn out in ranks and troops, with each a captain to command them. Oh, who could fully relate the terrible attacks of the infidels? The Turks at first rushed on with horrid yells, hurling their javelins and shooting their arrows. The king ran along the ranks and exhorted every man to be firm and not to flinch. The Turks came on like a whirlwind, again and again, making the appearance of an attack, that our men might be induced to give way, and when they were close up, they turned their horses off in another direction. The king and his knights, who were on horseback, perceiving this, put spurs to their horses and charged into the middle of the enemy, upsetting them right and left, and piercing a large number through the body with their lances; at last they pulled up their horses, because they found that they had penetrated entirely through the Turkish lines.

The king now looking about him, saw the noble earl of Leicester fallen from his horse, and fighting bravely on foot. No sooner did he see this than he rushed to his rescue, snatched him out of the hands of the enemy, and replaced him on his horse. What a terrible combat was then waged! A multitude of Turks advanced, and used every exertion to destroy our small army; vexed at our success, they rushed towards the royal standard of a lion, for they would rather have slain the king than a thousand others. In the midst of the mêlée the king saw Ralph de Mauleon dragged off prisoner by the Turks, and spurring his horse to speed, in a moment released him from their hands, and restored him to the army; for the king was a very giant in the battle, and was everywhere in the field--now here, now there, wherever the attacks of the Turks raged the hottest. So bravely did he fight, that there was no one, however gallant, that would not readily and deservedly yield to him the pre-eminence.

On that day he performed the most gallant deeds on the furious army of the Turks, and slew numbers with his sword, which shone like lightning; some of them were cloven in two from their helmet to their teeth, whilst others lost their heads, arms, and other members, which were lopped off at a single blow. While the king was thus labouring with incredible exertions in the fight, a Turk advanced towards him, mounted on a foaming steed. He had been sent by Saphedin of Archadia, brother to Saladin, a liberal and munificent man, if he had not rejected the Christian faith. This man now sent to the king, as a token of his well-known honourable character, two noble horses, requesting him earnestly to accept them, and make use of them, and if he returned safe and sound out of that battle, to remember the gift and recompense it in any manner he pleased. The king readily received the present, and afterwards nobly recompensed the giver. Such is bravery, cognisable even in an enemy; since a Turk, who was our bitter foe, thus honoured the king for his distinguished valour.

The king, especially at such a moment of need, protested that he would have taken any number of horses equally good from anyone, even more a foe than Saphedin, so necessary were they to him at that moment. Fierce now raged the fight, when such numbers attacked so few; the whole earth was covered with the javelins and arrows of the unbelievers; they threw them several at a time against our men, of whom many were wounded. Thus the weight of the battle fell heavier upon us than before, and the galley-men withdrew in the galleys which brought them, and so, in their anxiety to be safe, they sacrificed their character for bravery. Meanwhile a shout was raised by the Turks, as they strove who should first occupy the town, hoping to slay those of our men whom they should find within.

The king, hearing the clamour, taking with him only two knights and two cross-bow men, met three Turks, nobly caparisoned, in one of the principal streets. Rushing bravely upon them, he slew the riders in his own royal fashion, and made booty of two horses. The rest of the Turks who were found in the town were put to the rout in spite of their resistance, and dispersing in different directions, sought to make their escape even where there was no regular road. The king also commanded the parts of the walls which were broken down to be made good, and placed sentinels to keep watch lest the town should be again attacked. These matters settled, the king went down to the shore, where many of our men had taken refuge on board the galleys. These the king exhorted by the most cogent arguments to return to the battle and share with the rest whatever might befall them. Leaving five men as guards on board each galley, the king led back the rest to assist his hard-pressed army; and he no sooner arrived, than with all his fury he fell upon the thickest ranks of the enemy, driving them back and routing them, so that even those who were at a distance and untouched by him, were overwhelmed by the throng of the troops as they retreated.

Never was there such an attack made by an individual. He pierced into the middle of the hostile army, and performed the deeds of a brave and distinguished warrior. The Turks at once closed upon him and tried to overwhelm him. In the meantime our men, losing sight of the king, were fearful lest he should have been slain, and when one of them proposed that they should advance to find him, our lines could hardly contain themselves. But if by any chance the disposition of our troops had been broken, without doubt they would all have been destroyed. What however was to be thought of the king who was hemmed in by the enemy, a single man opposed to so many thousands?

The hand of the writer faints to tell it, and the mind of the reader to hear it. Who ever heard of such a man? His bravery was ever of the highest order, no adverse storm could sink it; his valour was ever blooming. Why then do we speak of the valour of Antæus, who regained his strength every time he touched his mother earth, for Antæus perished when he was lifted up from earth in the long wrestling match. The body of Achilles also, who slew Hector, was invulnerable, because he was dipped in the Stygian waves; yet Achilles was mortally wounded in the very part by which he was held when they dipped him. Likewise Alexander, the Macedonian, who was stimulated by ambition to subjugate the whole world, undertook a most difficult enterprise, and with a handful of choice soldiers fought many celebrated battles, but the chief part of his valour consisted in the excellence of his soldiers. In the same manner, the brave Judas Maccabæus, of whose wars all the world discoursed, performed many wonderful deeds worthy forever to be remembered, but when he was abandoned by his soldiers in the midst of a battle, with thousands of enemies to oppose him, he was slain, together with his brothers.

But King Richard, inured to battle from his tenderest years, and to whom even famous Roland could not be considered equal, remained invincible even in the midst of the enemy, and his body, as if it were made of brass, was impenetrable to any kind of weapon. In his right hand he brandished his sword, which in its rapid descent broke the ranks on either side of him. Such was his energy amid that host of Turks that, fearing nothing, he destroyed all around him, mowing men down with his sword as reapers mow down the corn with their sickles. Who could describe his deeds? Whoever felt one of his blows, had no need of a second. Such was the energy of his courage, that it seemed to rejoice at having found an occasion to display itself. The sword wielded by his powerful hand, cut down men and horses alike, cleaving them to the middle.

The Turks were terror-struck at the sight, and giving way on all sides, scarcely dared to shoot at him from a distance with their arrows. The king now returned safe and unhurt to his friends, and encouraged them more than ever with the hope of victory. How were their minds raised from despair when they saw him coming safe out of the enemy’s ranks! They knew not what had happened to him, but they knew that without him all the hopes of the Christian army would be in vain. The king’s person was stuck all over with javelins, like a deer pierced by the hunters, and the trappings of his horse were thickly covered with arrows. Thus, like a brave soldier, he returned from the contest, and a bitter contest it was, for it had lasted from the morning sun to the setting sun. It may seem indeed wonderful and even incredible that so small a body of men endured so long a conflict; but by God’s mercy we cannot doubt the truth of it, for in that battle only one or two of our men were slain. But the number of the Turkish horses which lay dead on the fields is said to have exceeded fifteen hundred; and of the Turks themselves more than seven hundred were killed, and yet they did not carry back King Richard, as they had boasted, as a present to Saladin; but, on the contrary, he and his brave followers performed so many deeds of valour in the sight of the Turks, that the enemy themselves shuddered to behold them. In the meantime, our men having by God’s grace escaped destruction, the Turkish army returned to Saladin, who is said to have ridiculed them by asking where Melek Richard was, for they had promised to bring him a prisoner? “Which of you,” continued he, “first seized him, and where is he? Why is he not produced?” To whom one of the Turks that came from the farthest countries of the earth replied; “In truth, my lord, Melek Richard, about whom you ask, is not here; we have never heard since the beginning of the world that there ever was such a knight so brave and so experienced in arms. In every deed at arms, he is ever the foremost; in deeds, he is without a rival, the first to advance and the last to retreat; we did our best to seize him, but in vain, for no one can escape from his sword; his attack is dreadful; to engage with him is fatal, and his deeds are beyond human nature.”

From the toil and exertion of the battle, King Richard and several others who had exerted themselves the most, fell ill, not only from the fatigue of the battle, but the smell of the corpses, which so corrupted the neighbourhood, that they all nearly died.[g]

PEACE BETWEEN THE KINGS

Richard now wished for peace, and Saladin, exhausted by wars, submitted to necessity. They exchanged expressions of esteem, and as the former avowed his contempt of the vulgar obligation of oaths, they only grasped each other’s hands in pledge of fidelity. A truce was agreed upon for three years and eight months; the fort of Askalon was to be destroyed; but Joppa and Tyre, with the country between them, were to be surrendered to the Christians. The people of the West were also at liberty to make their pilgrimages to Jerusalem, exempt from the taxes which the Saracenian princes had in former times imposed.

The French soldiers at Acre prepared to return to Europe; but wished first to behold the sepulchre which was so dear and sacred to the Christians. But Richard was indignant at the audacity of men who claimed the benefit of a treaty which no efforts of their own had procured. They had lost the laurel of holy warriors, and they deserved not to bear the pilgrim’s palm. The rest of the army visited the hallowed places, and Saladin, alive to every honourable obligation, prevented his subjects from injuring the persons and insulting the feelings of the devout palmers. In a familiar conversation with the bishop of Salisbury Saladin expressed his admiration of the bravery of Plantagenet, but thought that the skill of the general did not equal the valour of the knight. The courteous prelate complimented the Mussulman by replying that there were not two such warriors in the world as the English and the Syrian monarchs. Often have we had occasion to observe the generosity of Saladin in the moment of victory. At the solicitation of the bishop he allowed establishments of Latin priests in the Holy Sepulchre, and in the churches of Bethlehem and Nazareth. He had pity, too, on the different barons whom his conquests had dispossessed. He gave to the lord of Sajetta a handsome town near Tyre; to Belian of Ibelin a castle, four miles from Acre; and he restored Caiphas, Cæsarea, and Azotus to their respective lords. Count Henry of Champagne became master of Joppa.

The loss of many thousand soldiers on the plains of Acre, and the bravery and conduct of the English monarch, had prevented some of the anticipated issues of the battle of Tiberias; Palestine did not become a Mussulman colony; and so much of the sea coast was in the hands of the Christians, and so enfeebled were the enemy, that fresh hostilities could safely be commenced whenever Europe should again pour forth her religious fanatics, and military adventurers. Richard gained more honour in Palestine than any of the emperors of Germany and kings of France who had sought renown in foreign war; and although these distant ages may censure his conduct as unprofitable to his country, yet his actions were in unison with that spirit of the times which looked upon valour as more important than empire, and esteemed achievements in battle more highly than the consequences of victory. In the month of October, Richard, with his queen, the English soldiers, and pilgrims, set sail for England. But storms of violence, uncommon even for the boisterous season of autumn, soon scattered the fleet. Many of the vessels were wrecked on hostile shores, and the warriors of England, now penniless, naked, and famished, were led into Saracen prisons. Other ships fortunately reached friendly ports, and in time returned to Britain.[b]

END AND REVIEW OF THE THIRD CRUSADE

[Sidenote: [1189-1192 A.D.]]

Thus finished this Third Crusade, in which all the western powers in arms obtained no greater advantages than the taking of Ptolemais and the demolition of Askalon; in it Germany lost, without glory, one of the greatest of its emperors and the finest of its armies. If we may believe Arabian authors, six hundred thousand crusaders appeared before Ptolemais, and scarcely one hundred thousand of these warriors saw their native country again. Europe had the greater reason to deplore the losses of this war, from the fact of her armies having been so much better composed than in preceding expeditions; criminals, adventurers, and vagabonds had been strictly excluded from the ranks. All that the West could boast of the most noble and illustrious of its warriors had taken up arms.

The crusaders that contended with Saladin were better armed and better disciplined than any that preceded them in Palestine; the foot-soldiers employed the cross-bow, which had been neglected or prohibited in the Second Crusade. Their cuirasses, and their bucklers covered with thick leather, defied the arrows of the Saracens; and on the field of battle, soldiers were often seen bristling with arrows and darts, whom the Arabs compared to porcupines, still keeping their ranks and fighting bravely. The Saracens had likewise made some progress in the art of war, and began to resume the use of the lance, which they did not employ when the first crusaders arrived in Syria. The Mussulman armies were not confused multitudes; they remained longer under their banners, and fought with less disorder. The Kurds and Turks surpassed the Franks in the art of attacking and defending cities and castles. The Mussulmans had, besides, more than one advantage over the crusaders: they made war upon their own territories and in their own climate; they were under the command of one single leader, who communicated the same spirit to all, and only presented to them one cause to defend.

In this crusade the Franks appeared to be more polished than they had been till that time. Great monarchs making war against each other without ceasing to give evidences of mutual esteem and generous feeling, was a new spectacle for the world. Subjects followed the example of their princes, and lost beneath the tent much of their barbarism. The crusaders were sometimes admitted to the table of Saladin, and emirs received at that of Richard. By thus mingling together, Saracens and Christians might make a happy exchange of usages, manners, knowledge, and even virtues. The Christians, rather more enlightened than during the first Crusades, stood in less need of excitement from the visions of fanaticism. The passion for glory was for them almost as powerful a principle as religious enthusiasm. Chivalry also made great progress in this crusade; it was held in such honour, and the title of knight was so glorious, even in the eyes of the infidels, that Saladin did not disdain to be decorated with it.

In this crusade, in which so many knights rendered themselves illustrious, two men acquired an immortal glory, one by a useless bravery and qualities more brilliant than solid, the other by real successes and virtues that might have served as models to Christians. The name of Richard remained during a century the terror of the East, and the Saracens and Turks celebrated him in their proverbs a long time after the Crusades. He cultivated letters and merited a place among the troubadours; but the arts did not at all soften his character; it was his ferocity as well as his courage that procured him the surname of Cœur de Lion. Carried away by the inconstancy of his inclinations, he often changed his projects, his affections, and his principles of action; he sometimes braved religion, and very often devoted himself to its service. Sometimes incredulous, as often superstitious; measureless in his hatred as in his friendship, he was extravagant in everything, and only showed himself constant in his love for war. The passions which animated him scarcely ever permitted his ambition to have an aim or a determinate object. His imprudence, his presumption, and the unsteadiness of his plans, made him lose the fruits of his exploits. In a word, the hero of this crusade is more calculated to excite surprise than to create esteem, and appears to belong less to history than to the romances of chivalry.

With less rashness and bravery than Richard, Saladin possessed a more firm character, one far better calculated to carry on a religious war. He paid more attention to the results of his enterprises; more master of himself, he was more fit to command others. When mounting the throne of the atabegs, Saladin obeyed rather his destiny than his inclinations; but when once firmly seated, he was governed by only two passions--that of reigning, and that of securing the triumph of the _Koran_. On all other subjects he was moderate, and when a kingdom or the glory of the prophet was not in question, the son of Eyyub was admired as the most just and mild of Mussulmans. We may add that the stern devotion[66] and ardent fanaticism that made him take up arms against the Christians, only rendered him cruel and barbarous in one single instance. He displayed the virtues of peace amidst the horrors of war. “From the bosom of camps,” says an oriental poet, “he covered the nations with the wings of his justice, and poured upon his cities the plenteous showers of his liberality.” The Mussulmans, always governed by fear, were astonished that a sovereign could inspire them with so much love, and followed him with joy to battle. His generosity, his clemency, and particularly his respect for an oath, were often the subjects of admiration to the Christians, whom he rendered so miserable by his victories, and of whose power in Asia he had completed the overthrow.

The Third Crusade, which was so glorious for Saladin, was not entirely without advantages for Europe. Many crusaders, on the way to Palestine, stopped in Spain, and by their victories over the Moors, prepared the deliverance of the kingdoms situated beyond the Pyrenees. A great number of Germans, as in the Second Crusade, prevailed upon by the solicitations of the pope, made war upon the barbarous inhabitants of the shores of the Baltic, and thus, by useful exploits, extended the limits of the Christian republic in the West. As in this war the greater part of the crusaders went to Palestine by sea, the art of navigation made a sensible advance; the maritime nations of Europe acquired an accession of prosperity, their fleets became more formidable, and they were able, with glory, to dispute the empire of the sea with the Saracens.

In several states of Europe, commerce, and the spirit of the holy wars contributed to the enfranchisement of the lower classes. Many serfs, upon becoming free, took up arms. It was not one of the least interesting spectacles of this crusade, to see the standards of several cities of France and Germany floating in the Christian army amongst the banners of lords and barons. This crusade was particularly beneficial to France, from which it banished both civil and foreign wars. By prolonging the absence of the great vassals and the enemies of the kingdom, it weakened their power, and gave Philip Augustus authority to levy imposts, even upon the clergy. It afforded him an opportunity of surrounding his throne with a faithful guard, to keep up regular armies, and prepare, though at a distance, that victory of Bouvines which proved so fatal to the enemies of France.

[Sidenote: [1192-1194 A.D.]]

A long captivity awaited Richard on his return to Europe. The vessel in which he embarked was shipwrecked on the coast of Italy, and fearing to pass through France, he took the route of Germany, concealed under the habit of a simple pilgrim. His liberality betrayed the monarch, and as he had enemies everywhere, he was seized by the soldiers of the duke of Austria. Leopold had not sufficient generosity to forget the outrages received from Richard at the siege of Ptolemais, and detained him prisoner.[67] The duke of Austria did not dare to detain his redoubtable captive in his own hands, and gave him up to the emperor of Germany. Henry VI, who had likewise insults to revenge, was rejoiced to get Richard in his power, and kept him in chains, as if he had made him a prisoner in the field of battle. The hero of the crusade, who had filled the world with his renown, was cast into a dark dungeon, and remained a long time a victim to the vengeance of his enemies--and they were Christian princes. He was brought before the German diet, assembled at Worms, where he was accused of all the crimes that hatred and envy could invent. But the spectacle of a king in chains was so affecting, that no one durst condemn Richard, and when he offered his justification, the bishops and nobles melted into tears, and besought Henry to treat him with less injustice and rigour.

Queen Eleanor implored all the powers of Europe for the release of her son. The complaints and tears of a mother touched the heart of Celestine, who had recently ascended the chair of St. Peter. The pope several times demanded the liberty of the king of England, and even excommunicated the duke of Austria and the emperor; but the thunders of the church had so often been launched against the thrones of Germany, that they no longer inspired fear. Henry braved the anathemas of the holy see; the captivity of Richard lasted another year; and he only obtained his liberty after engaging to pay a considerable ransom. His kingdom, which he had ruined at his departure for the Holy Land, exhausted itself to hasten his return; and England gave up even her sacred vases to break the chains of her monarch. He was received with enthusiasm by the English; his adventures, which drew tears, obliterated the remembrance of his cruelties, and Europe only recollected his exploits and his misfortunes.[c]

DEATH OF SALADIN; ARAB EULOGIES

In the year 589 (1193 A.D.), after the departure of the king of England, Saladin having no longer anything to fear from the Christians, resolved to pass some time at Damascus. This was always a favourite place of sojourn, and he hoped there to recover his health, for he was feeling severely the strain of so arduous a war. His plan, after resting a while in Damascus, was to go to Egypt, which he had not visited for ten years. He left Jerusalem and paid visits en route to Nablus, Tiberias, and other scenes of his recent conquests. At Berytus, Bohemond, prince of Antioch, came to pay allegiance. What most touched the sultan was that Bohemond came of his own accord, without distrust, without escort, without even having requested a safe conduct. As evidence of his satisfaction the sultan gave him a splendid welcome, and granted him several fiefs contiguous to his own principality. The lords who came with him also received presents. Saladin finally arrived in Damascus amid the acclamations of the populace. Great was the rejoicing, and poets exercised their art for the occasion. The sultan immediately took in hand the welfare of the inhabitants and reformed several abuses. In the meanwhile he betook himself with his brother Malik Adil to the pleasures of the chase. He was away a fortnight; his health seemed restored, and already he began to believe himself beyond all danger, when suddenly he fell ill of a bilious fever of which he died on the thirteenth day, March 5, 1193. Boha ad-Din, who at the time of Saladin’s death was in the city, relates that grief was universal. “That day,” he says, “was the most terrible that had ever dawned on Islam. The castle of Damascus, the city, the whole universe was struck with a sorrow that God alone could measure.”

Saladin was born at Tekrit, on the Tigris, and died at the age of fifty-seven lunar years, after having reigned twenty-four years over Egypt and nineteen over Syria. Arabian historians represent him as a most generous prince, who would ever willingly deprive himself of the necessaries of life. Boha ad-Din avows that finally his steward felt obliged, unknown to him, to put aside money in order to meet future emergencies; at his death they found in his treasury forty-seven silver pieces and one of gold. “This,” adds Boha ad-Din, “was all that remained of the revenues of Egypt, Arabia, Syria, and a part of Mesopotamia.”

It always happened that when Saladin took possession of a new province he performed deeds of great generosity in order to win over the people. When he entered Damascus after the death of Nur ad-Din, he did not take for himself any of this prince’s treasures, but distributed everything among the emirs. “Saladin,” says Abulfeda, “had gentle manners, he bore contradiction easily, and showed great indulgence to those who served him. If anything wounded his feelings he did not exhibit it. He was reserved in speech; and his example inspired the same thing in others. No one dared attack his neighbour’s honour in the sultan’s presence.

“He never could see an orphan without being moved. If one of its parents were still alive he gave it into this parent’s keeping, but himself provided for the child’s maintenance and kept watch over its education. Whenever he met an aged person he wept tenderly and bestowed some token of generosity. Such was his manner of life until God called him to his merciful bosom.”

Saladin was not insensible to domestic affection. He loved to spend his time with his family, surrounded by his children, and taking part in their sports. He was sincerely devoted to his religion and brought up his children in the same way. Boha ad-Din has preserved for us the sultan’s speech, a short time before his death, on the occasion of the departure of his son Dhahir to the post of governor of Aleppo. “O my son,” the sultan said, “I recommend to thee the fear of God, source of all goodness. Do what God asks, and thou shalt find in that thy salvation. Hold always the sight of blood in horror. Take care not to shed or stain thyself with it, for the mark is never washed away. Look to the well-being of thy subjects and inform thyself as to their needs. Thou art for them God’s minister as well as mine. Take care to please the emirs, the great men of the land, and the people of high estate. It is by my righteous ways that I have reached this degree of power. Bear no malice towards anyone whoever he may be, for we are all mortal. Be attentive to thy duty to others, for in giving them satisfaction thou obtainest the forgiveness of God better than looking to thy own account with him, for repentance to cure all; for the Lord is good and merciful.”

He loved to read the _Koran_ and he had the book read to his servitors and all those around him. Noticing one day a little child reading the _Koran_ to his father, he was touched to tears by the sight and gave money and land to both father and son. He admitted unreservedly all that religion teaches, and hated philosophers and heretics. He once imprisoned and put to death at Aleppo a young man named Sahraverdi, who mocked at and insulted religion.

Boha ad-Din relates again: “Saladin was a great lover of justice; not only was he strict on its being given, but he dispensed it himself as far as his affairs would admit. He heard cases twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays, assisted by cadis and people of the law. Great and small, everyone found the door open. He did the same on his journeys as in his capital, receiving all petitions presented to him, and rejecting no demands. When a case demanded a great amount of attention he examined it at leisure, sometimes in the day, sometimes at night, and judged it as God prompted him. Never was his sense of justice invoked in vain; it was the same for the princes of his family as for his other subjects, for he made exception of no one.”

There would be no end were one to transcribe all that the Arab chroniclers, particularly Boha ad-Din, relate concerning Saladin’s justice and piety. The latter is especially devoted to bringing out these virtues of his hero, and purposely omits to speak of the vices that stained them. In the whole course of his reign Saladin encountered no great opposition except on the part of the Christians, and especially those of the West. So he had come to believe in no enemies but the Franks. These he treated as enemies of God, and called the war they brought upon him, “the holy war.”

“When God shall have put into my hands the other Christian cities,” he told Boha ad-Din,[f] “I shall share my states with my children, leave them my last instructions, and bidding them farewell, embark upon that sea to subdue the western isles and lands. I shall never lay down my arms while there remains a single infidel upon the earth, at least if from here to there I am not stopped by death.”

Thus Saladin’s ambitions reached as far as the conquest of France, Italy, and the other Christian countries. And lest one should believe the words reported by Boha ad-Din to be a vain threat, we find the same idea in the sultan’s reply to a letter from the emperor Barbarossa. What is more singular is that the hate of Saladin was directed towards the Christians only as a body of nations. Once in his power, he looked at them through different eyes. Thus we can explain the magnificent and even exaggerated eulogies of certain contemporary Christian and especially Italian writers, eulogies which perhaps no Mohammedan writer has exceeded. For example, there is the following passage in the Arab history of the patriarchs of Alexandria, whose author was one of the Coptic Christians:

“Saladin in all the surrenders he had from the Franks was faithful to his word. When a town capitulated he left the inhabitants their liberty, with their wives, their children, and their belongings. As to their Mohammedan captives, Saladin offered to buy them back, and mentioned a sum greater than their value. If the Franks refused this he let them keep their prisoners, saying, ‘I don’t want to interfere with your captives; only treat them well, as I treat your people.’ Whenever his policy would permit it Saladin sought to please everybody. ‘I much prefer,’ he said, speaking of the Christians, ‘that they should remain contented and happy.’”

Saladin’s two most glorious achievements in the eye of the majority of the Mohammedan historians were the taking of Jerusalem and Palestine from the Christians, and the destruction of the Fatimite caliphate in Egypt. To these relate most of the titles and phrases in which they refer to him and which may be found on many monuments of the period. “With Saladin,” says Imad ad-Din, his secretary, “the great men perished, with him disappeared people of true worth; good deeds diminished, and bad ones increased; life became difficult, and earth was covered with shadows; the century had its phœnix to deplore, and Islam lost its support.”[k]

FOOTNOTES

[56] Among the causes of the First Crusade we mentioned the influence of the spirit of commerce on the love of pilgrimages. That spirit was afterwards mingled with the desire of conquest, particularly in the case of the Egyptian polities. Situated between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean, Egypt was the communication between Europe and the Indies; and the possession of that country would have rendered the Europeans masters of commerce.

[57] There was a decree in these statutes forbidding a crusader to take any woman with him, except a laundress on foot of good character. This qualification of the exception was necessary; for in the Middle Ages the words “lotrix” and “meretrix” were synonymous.

[58] It will not be worth while to inquire whether the emperor bathed in the Cydnus or the Calycadnus: “If he went in to wash himself, he neither consulted with his health nor honour. Some say, his horse foundered under him as he passed the water; others, that he fell from him. But these several relations, as variety of instruments, make a doleful concert in this, that there he lost his life; and no wonder, if the cold water quickly quenched those few sparks of natural heat left in him at seventy years of age.”--FULLER.[i]

[59] The Christian camp was so well fortified, that the Saracens used to say, “not even a bird can enter it.”

[60] Thus, as has often been the case, the extreme of misery produced the effects of the extreme of luxury. Pagans and Christians considering God as the author of temporal good and evil only, and observing that the virtuous suffered as much as the wicked, concluded that moral conduct was disregarded by heaven. Unbounded licentiousness followed. No laws of God limited the people: the laws of man were equally inefficacious, because the criminal thought that he might die before the day of trial, or if he should live to that time, those who would have been his accusers might have perished in the general calamity. Compare Thucydides’ account of the plague at Athens.

[61] [Richard of Devizes[e] calls her “a wonderful ship, a ship than which, with the exception of Noah’s ark, we do not read of any being greater.” He says the Turks “fought fiercely because ‘the only hope for the conquered is to have nothing to hope for.’”]

[62] [On the other hand Richard of Devizes[e] quotes Saladin’s brother as saying, “Thanks be to God, Richard was burdened with the king of the French and hindered by him like a cat with a hammer tied to its tail.”]

[63] [The Arab historian Imad ad-Din[d] speaks thus concerning the prisoners put to death by Richard. “After the retreat of the Christians into the town, we found the Mussulman martyrs exposed quite naked on the sands. We went to inspect them. They recognised their friends and related what they had suffered for God’s cause, what honours they had received, what benefits they had acquired by martyrdom, what felicity they enjoyed at the price of their blood.”]

[64] Defensive war was so completely the object of the crusaders, that each man was covered with pieces of cloth, united together by rings, on which he received without injury the enemy’s arrows. Boha ad-Din[f] (who narrates this curious circumstance) adds, that he himself saw several of the Christians who had not one or two, but ten arrows adhering to their backs, and yet who marched forwards with a quiet step, and without trepidation. “So close did they march, that if an apple had been thrown, it must have struck either a man or a horse,” says Vinsauf.[g]

[65] According to Boha ad-Din[f] and Abulfeda,[j] in all these negotiations, the people of the two armies lived in friendly intercourse, and mingled in the tournament and dance. More than this, through the whole of the war, Saladin and Richard emulated each other as much in the reciprocation of courtesy, as in military exploits. If ever the king of England chanced to be ill, Saladin sent him presents of Damascene pears, peaches, and other fruits. The same liberal hand gave the luxury of snow, in the hot seasons, according to Hoveden.[h] Saladin could not but have felt some kindness for gallant warriors, whether Christians or Mussulmans, if it be true, that as soon as he was old enough to bear arms, he had requested and received the honour of knighthood from a French cavalier, named Humphrey de Thoron. See Vinsauf.[g]

[66] Saladin had but little indulgence in religious matters. The abbé Renaudot, in his manuscript history, relates that he caused a philosopher to be strangled who ventured to preach new doctrines in the city of Aleppo.

[67] [The well-known story of the discovery of Richard in Leopold’s hands, by Blondel, through the singing of a song which king and minstrel had composed together, is now believed to be apocryphal and quite fabulous.]