Chapter XXIX: Book VII: Third Crusade (2)

The Christians took no other advantage of his absence but to renew their incursions upon the territory of Damascus. Renaud de Chatillon made several expeditions to the shores of the Red Sea, and even conceived the daring project of going to the cities of Mecca and Medina, and plundering the Kaaba and the tomb of the Prophet. A troop of intrepid warriors set forward on their march under his orders; they surprised the Egyptian merchants who were bearing back the treasures of India, by way of the Red Sea; and, preceded by terror, advanced in triumph, into a country which had never before seen the Christians. Renaud and his companions had already reached the valley of Rabid, situated ten leagues from Medina, when they were surprised and attacked by a Mussulman army, which had been hastily despatched from Syria. After an obstinate and sanguinary combat, victory favoured the Saracens. Renaud escaped the pursuit of the conquerors as if by a miracle, and returned with a small number of his troops to the castle of Carac. Some of the prisoners were led into Egypt, where the sentence of the cadis condemned them to the death of the lowest criminals. Others were conveyed to Mecca, where their blood was shed with that of the victims immolated at the ceremony of the great Bayram.[300]

These horrible executions did not satisfy the vengeance of Saladin. When he heard of the expedition of the Christians, which he considered a frightful sacrilege, his anger knew no bounds, and he swore upon the Koran to revenge the insult offered to the Mussulman religion. The sultan, whom the Christians already styled the _scourge of God_, re-entered Galilee with sword and flame, and advanced towards the castle of Carac, constantly repeating the oath he had taken of slaying Renaud with his own hand. The Mussulmans would have rendered themselves masters of the castle, but for the bravery of one knight, who alone maintained the drawbridge, and by a glorious death deprived Saladin of this conquest. A Christian army was soon upon the march to repel this attack of the Saracens. Saladin, despairing for the present of wreaking his revenge upon Renaud, laid waste the lands on the banks of the Jordan, in the very face of the Christian army, which did not dare to attack him. After having several times renewed his attempts upon the fortress of Carac, and given up to the flames Naplouse, Sebosto, and several other cities, he at length consented to a truce, and led back his army into Mesopotamia.

Saladin availed himself of the peace made with the Christians, to dissipate the troubles which had arisen in his states, and to pursue his conquests in Syria. At each truce he got possession of a city or a province; he extended his dominions, and thus placed under his control countries which became so many the more enemies for the Christians. The Franks, on the contrary, when war was suspended, gave themselves madly up to their internal divisions; peace with them gave birth to a thousand new factions, and the kingdom then found in its own bosom enemies much more dangerous than those against whom they had been at war.

The knights and barons, on their return to Jerusalem, accused Guy de Lusignan of having neglected the opportunity for conquering Saladin, and reproached him with having permitted the ravages exercised by the Mussulmans in the richest provinces of Palestine. Baldwin, who had yielded up the royal authority with great regret, listened to the complaints of the barons, and hastened to reascend a tottering throne. He undertook to dissolve the marriage with Sibylla, and cited Guy de Lusignan before the patriarch of Jerusalem and the nobles of the kingdom, in order to deprive him of the counties of Ascalon and Jaffa. As Guy did not appear on the day named, Baldwin, although infirm and blind, repaired to Antioch, and finding the gates shut, struck them several times with his hand without causing them to be opened.[301] This unfortunate prince called upon Heaven to witness this insult, and returned to Jerusalem, swearing to revenge himself upon Guy de Lusignan. On his side, Guy no longer observed any measures, but took up arms to sustain his revolt. In this emergency, Baldwin could find no better means of punishing Guy than to oppose to him a regent and a new king. By his orders, Baldwin V., who was five years of age, and born of the first marriage of Sibylla with the son of the marquis de Montferrat, was crowned in the church of the Holy Sepulchre, in the presence of the nobles and the clergy. Raymond, count of Tripoli, less odious to Baldwin than Guy, obtained the regency and assumed the reins of government.

The kingdom of Jerusalem, which had proceeded rapidly to decay since the reign of Baldwin III., became now an object worthy of pity. The stormy passions, almost always inseparable from a feudal government, had long since weakened all the springs of authority. The royalty, for whose remains they were quarrelling, was nothing but a vain name; in the midst of the factions by which he was surrounded, a king of Jerusalem could neither revenge his own injuries, nor those of the Church or of Christ. Want of courage was the only crime he could punish without exciting the murmurs of the barons, because with them cowards found no defenders. Amaury had ignominiously hung twelve Templars, accused of having neglected the defence of a fortress; but he had not the power to receive an ambassador sent by the _Old Man of the Mountain_, in whom the hope of freeing himself from a tribute paid to the grand master of the Templars, had awakened a desire to become a Christian. When the ambassador was assassinated in Jerusalem by a Templar, Amaury had no authority to bring the murderer to judgment; deplorable weakness of a king who possesses not the first prerogative of royalty, that of maintaining justice and causing the rights of nations to be respected!

The kingdom was covered with strong castles, the commanders of which barely recognised the authority of the king. On the summit of every mountain upon which appeared threatening towers, in caverns even, which had been transformed into fortresses, barons commanded as masters, and made peace or war at their pleasure. The military orders, the only support of the state, were divided among themselves, and sometimes shed their blood in quarrels fatal to the cause of the Christians.

Discord reigned between the clergy and the knights of the Temple and St. John; the military orders were not subject to the jurisdiction of ecclesiastics, and the clergy, accustomed to dictate laws to princes, could not endure the haughty independence of a few warriors. Led away by the spirit of discord, the Hospitallers raised edifices in front of the church of the Resurrection, and often drowned the voices of the priests who celebrated the praises of God at the foot of his altars. Some of them even went so far as to pursue priests with arrow-shots into the very church of the Holy Sepulchre. As the only vengeance, the priests gathered together in bundles the arrows that had been shot at them, and placed them on an elevated spot on the Mount of Olives, that every one might be acquainted with the sacrilege.

These quarrels, which were every day renewed, were carried before the tribunal of the Holy See, whose decisions frequently only inflamed the minds of the disputants the more. The Church of Rome, very far from restoring peace to the Christians of the East, often cast amongst them fresh coals of discord. The schisms which troubled the West, more than once kindled war in the holy places, even upon the tomb of Christ.

Concord seldom prevailed long between the inhabitants of Palestine and the European warriors who came into Asia to combat the infidels. The Syrian barons employed the forces of their auxiliaries to carry out their own ambitious views; and the latter, by their pride and disdain, laid a high price upon their services. Almost always on the arrival of fresh pilgrims, a treaty was violated or a truce broken, in order to make incursions upon the territories of the Saracens; and not unfrequently, the Crusaders, without even seeing the enemy, abandoned Palestine to the perils of a war they had themselves provoked.

In the cities, particularly the maritime cities, several nations dwelt together, and disputed precedence and sovereignty, sword in hand. All who came to establish themselves in the Holy Land, brought with them and preserved the remembrances and prejudices of their native country. In the cities of Ascalon, Tyre, or Ptolemaïs, the inhabitants were much more interested in the glory and prosperity of Pisa, Genoa, and Venice, than in the safety of the kingdom of Jerusalem.

The greater part of the barons and knights displayed none of the heroic resignation of the early soldiers of the cross, in supporting fatigues or braving difficulties. Since the conquest of Egypt had been contemplated, war was only considered as a means of acquiring wealth; and the thirst for booty destroyed the principle of honour, the love of glory, and even all anxiety for the cause of Christ. The question was no longer what enemy was to be attacked, what ally was to be defended, but what city or province was to be delivered up to pillage. Discipline degenerated in the camp; the Christian warriors still displayed their natural bravery, but they neither knew how to obey nor to command, and anarchy reigned as completely in the army as throughout the kingdom. Many of the leaders abandoned their colours under the most perilous circumstances, and sold their inaction or their neutrality. Some, like the Templar Meslier and his companions, forgetful of their vows, ravaged the Christian provinces; whilst others, urged on by ambition or vengeance, allied themselves with the Saracens, and received in the service of the infidels the reward of their disgraceful apostasy.

Religion, which ought to have been the connecting tie between the Christians established in the Holy Land, and which alone could preserve among them sentiments of patriotism,—religion had lost all empire over their minds. War was still made in its name, but its laws were unpractised and unacknowledged. The conversion of the Maronites of Libanus, who rejoined the Church of Rome in the reign of Baldwin IV., was celebrated at Jerusalem as a victory gained over heresy, but it had not the effect of bringing back the Christians to the spirit of the Scriptures. Pious men who lived in a corrupted age, groaned under the depravity of manners which every day made such frightful progress.[302] The respectable archbishop of Tyre trembles as he traces the history of this unhappy period, and fears lest truth should give to his recitals the colour of satire. “There is,” says he, “scarcely one chaste woman to be found in the city of Jerusalem.” The leaders of the Christian colonies, equally with the heads of the Church, themselves set the example of licentiousness. The Christians beheld a queen of Jerusalem, the widow of Baldwin III., keep up a criminal intercourse with Andronicus, and seek an abode among the Saracens with the companion of her debaucheries.[303] Bohemond, prince of Antioch, repudiated his wife Erina, to espouse a courtesan. The patriarch, disgusted with such a scandal, excommunicated young Bohemond, and placed an interdict upon his states; and thus the guilty amours of a Christian prince produced trouble and desolation throughout a whole nation. The sight even of the tomb of Christ was unable to inspire more holy thoughts. The patriarch Heraclius, who only owed his elevation to mundane and profane qualities, lavished the treasures due to pilgrims and the poor, upon infamous prostitutes, and the Christian people were often astonished to see the notorious Pâque de Rivery display, even in the sanctuary, ornaments purchased with the alms of the faithful.

A people thus degenerated could not possibly preserve the kingdom of Christ. The eyes of all were turned towards the West, and Heraclius, attended by the two grand masters of the Temple and St. John, was sent into Europe to solicit the prompt assistance of kings and their warriors. The king of France, Philip Augustus, received the Christian deputies with great honours; but as he had but recently ascended the throne, the interests of his kingdom would not permit him to go in person to the defence of Jerusalem. Henry II., king of England, appeared to be the last hope of the Christians; he had promised the pope to make the pilgrimage to the Holy Land, as an expiation of the murder of the archbishop of Canterbury, and Heraclius repaired to his court, presenting him with the keys and standard of the Holy Sepulchre, and pressing him to perform his promise. The bad reputation of the patriarch had preceded him into Europe, and very much weakened the effect of his words; he displayed, likewise, neither the meekness nor the charity of the Scriptures, and only irritated those whom he sought to persuade or convince. As the English monarch hesitated to fulfil his promises, alleging his advanced age and the welfare of his dominions, Heraclius loaded him with the most outrageous reproaches, threatening him with the anger of Heaven. The aged Henry appearing irritated by this language, the patriarch redoubled his insolence and pride. “You may,” said he, on terminating his discourse, “treat me as you treated my brother Thomas, for it is quite indifferent to me whether I die in Syria by the hands of infidels, or perish here by the orders of you who are more wicked than a Saracen.” Henry endeavoured to conceal his anger, and did not dare to punish the envoy of the Christians; he even treated him with great magnificence, but yet did not leave England. He contented himself with sending the Christians of Jerusalem a large sum of money, and exhorting his subjects to arm themselves for the defence of the Holy Land.

The zeal for crusades began at this time to abate, and several ambassadors returned to Jerusalem without having been able to arouse the enthusiasm of the western Christians. Nations, to be excited to active ardour for holy wars, required the example of princes or kings. The warriors of Europe paid little attention to the exhortations of the pope and Heraclius. The deputies returned into Palestine without having obtained the assistance they demanded; and their appearance produced discouragement and despair among all the Christians of the East.

The unfortunate king, Baldwin, had entirely lost the faculties of both mind and body; and, tormented by his sufferings, he every day drew nearer to the tomb, presenting but too faithful an image of the weakness and decline of his kingdom. Whilst the approach of death filled his palace with mourning, parties contended for a throne which tottered to its fall, and for a crown which the most wise compared to the crown of thorns of Christ. When he closed his eyes, the evils increased, and discord submitted to no restraint. The count of Tripoli wished to retain the reins of government as regent; whilst Sibylla was desirous of bestowing the sceptre upon her husband. In the midst of these dissensions Baldwin V., the weak and fragile hope of the kingdom, died suddenly. All who had aspired to his authority were accused of his death: unhappy period, in which such accusations could possibly be well founded, and in which a whole people could think of reproaching a queen with the murder of her own son!

Scarcely was Baldwin dead than his mother desired to reign in his place; and in order to satisfy the ambition of herself and Guy de Lusignan, she disdained no artifice and spared no perfidious promises. Whilst the count of Tripoli was gathering together at Naplouse the barons and principal men of the kingdom, the daughter of Amaury, by the advice of the patriarch and the grand master of the Templars, announced her intention of separating herself from her husband, and choosing a warrior able to defend the kingdom. When this report had circulated through Jerusalem, Sibylla ordered the gates of the city to be shut, and repaired to the church of the Holy Sepulchre. In the presence of the tomb of Christ, Heraclius took the oath of allegiance to her in the name of the clergy and the people, pronounced her divorce with a loud voice, and commanded her in the name of Heaven to bestow her hand and sceptre upon him she deemed most worthy of them. At these words Sibylla placed the crown upon the head of her husband, who was on his knees before her, saying it was not in the power of man to separate those whom God had united.

Whilst a part of the people and some of the barons, seduced by vain promises, applauded the choice of Sibylla, the partisans of Raymond were highly indignant at having been deceived by a woman. The coronation of Guy de Lusignan naturally alarmed all who thought that Jerusalem stood in less need of a king than of a defender. Baldwin of Ramla, one of the most skilful captains of his times, despaired of the safety of the kingdom, and retired into the principality of Antioch, repeating the threats of the prophets against Jerusalem. Geoffrey de Lusignan, when he heard of the elevation of his brother, could not forbear exclaiming: “_Well, if they have made a king of him, they would have made a god of me if they had known me_.”

When that which had taken place at Jerusalem was announced to the barons assembled at Naplouse, most of them resolved to abandon Palestine; but the count of Tripoli detained them, advising them to name a new king, and bestow the crown upon Homfrey de Thorou, who had recently married Isabella, the second daughter of Amaury. He even promised to gain the support of Saladin for this election, and succeeded in persuading the assembly. Whilst they were yet deliberating, young Homfrey, terrified at the burden they wished to impose upon him, fled away secretly by night, and hastened to the capital to ask pardon of Queen Sibylla, protesting that he preferred ease and life to the throne of Jerusalem. This flight disconcerted all measures and changed all projects. Several barons, not knowing to what party it would be best to ally themselves, went and took the oath to Guy de Lusignan; whilst others, returning to their castles, awaited coming events. Raymond retired to his county of Tiberias, of which he had obtained the sovereignty.

The retreat and the murmurs of the enemies of Guy only increased his pride. The more he stood in need of mildness and moderation, the more haughtiness and severity he displayed. His disdainful manners drove from him the barons who had remained faithful to him. Stimulated by the grand master of the Templars, who was the declared enemy of the count of Tripoli, he made preparations to besiege the city of Tiberias; whilst Raymond, who was determined to defend himself, carried away by the excess of his anger, implored the aid of Saladin against the king of Jerusalem.

At the approach of the evils about to fall upon the kingdom, nothing was heard but complaints and seditious clamours; but neither the dangers of the Christian colonies, nor the aspect of the threatened holy places, could silence ambition or check revolt. The historian of the kingdom of Jerusalem here feels the pen fall from his hand, and stops, terrified at the events which are left for him to describe.

Amidst the general disorder and agitation, the superstitious minds of the Christians beheld nothing in the future but great calamities, and everything seemed to present sinister presages to their eyes. “The signs which were displayed in the heavens,” says a contemporary chronicle, “allowed it to be plainly perceived that God held in abomination that which was going on. Impetuous winds, tempests, and storms arose on all sides; the light of the sun was obscured during several days, and hailstones as large as the eggs of a goose fell from heaven. The earth, equally agitated by frequent and horrible earthquakes, gave notice of coming ruin and destruction, with disasters and defeats in war which were soon to visit the kingdom. Neither could the sea confine itself within its bounds and limits, but announced to us, by its horrible floods or its unusually impetuous waves, the anger of God ready to fall upon us. Fire was seen blazing in the air like a house in flames; you would have sworn that all the elements and architecture of God were angry, and abhorred the excesses, wickednesses, dissoluteness, and offences of the human race.”

Such were the presages that struck the greater number of the Christians; but thinking men could perceive much more certain signs of the approaching fall of the kingdom of Jerusalem. Mossoul, Aleppo, and all the Mussulman cities of Syria and Mesopotamia, had submitted to the power of Saladin. The son of Ayoub had triumphed over the emirs and the scattered family of Noureddin. All the treasures of Egypt, all the forces of Asia, were in his hands; there remained only one conquest for him to make, and fortune, which had levelled all obstacles before him, soon furnished him with a pretext and an opportunity of giving the last blow to the power of the Christians.

The truce made with the king of Jerusalem was broken at the same time by both Christians and Mussulmans. Renaud de Chatillon continued his incursions upon the territories of the infidels, and only replied to the complaints of Saladin by new violations of treaties. A Mussulman army, which the sultan of Damascus had sent to the assistance of the count of Tripoli, advanced into the country of Galilee, whither five hundred knights of the Temple and St. John hastened to defend the Christian territory, and give battle to the Saracens. They were speedily overwhelmed by numbers, and almost all perished on the field of battle. Old chronicles, whilst celebrating the bravery of the Christian knights, relate prodigies which we have now great difficulty in believing. These indomitable heroes, after having exhausted their arrows, plucked from their own bodies such as had pierced them, and launched them back upon the enemy; pressed by fatigue and heat, they drank their own blood, and revived their strength by the very means which must weaken it; at length, after having broken their lances and swords, they rushed upon their enemies, fought body to body, rolling in the dust with the Mussulman warriors, and died threatening their conquerors. Above all the rest, nothing could equal the heroic valour of Jacques de Maillé, a knight of the Temple. Mounted on a white horse, he remained alone in the field of battle, and fought on, surrounded by heaps of slain. Although hemmed in on all sides, he refused to surrender. The horse which he rode, worn out with fatigue and exhausted by wounds, sunk under him, and dragged him with him; but the intrepid knight arose, lance in hand, covered with blood and dust, and bristling with arrows, and rushed upon the ranks of the Mussulmans, astonished at his audacity; at length he fell, covered with wounds, but fighting to the last. The Saracens took him for St. George, whom the Christians believed they saw descend from heaven to join their battalions. After his death the Turkish soldiers, whom an historian calls _the children of Babylon and Sodom_, drew near with signs of respect to his body, slain by a thousand wounds; they wiped off the blood, they shared the rags of his clothes and the fragments of his arms, and, in their brutal excitement, evinced their admiration by actions that make modesty blush when speaking of them.[304]

The grand master of the Templars, with two of his knights, were all that escaped from the carnage. This battle was fought on the 1st of May, 1187. In the season, says an ancient chronicle, in which flowers and roses are gathered in the fields, the Christians of Nazareth found nothing but the traces of slaughter and the mangled bodies of their brethren. They buried them in the church of St. Mary, repeating these prophetic words: “_Daughters of Galilee, put on your garments of mourning; and you, daughters of Sion, weep over the ills that threaten the kings of Judah_.” The terror which this sanguinary defeat created for a moment appeased the discords of the Christians. The king consented to be reconciled to the count of Tripoli, whilst on his part Raymond resolved to forget his private injuries, and to use every effort to repair the misfortunes he had brought upon the kingdom. He repaired to Jerusalem, where Guy de Lusignan, coming forth to meet him, received him with marks of sincere affection. The two princes embraced before the people, and swore to fight in unison for the heritage of Christ.

After the rupture of the truce, Saladin employed himself in getting together a formidable army. Turks, Arabs, Curds, and Egyptians flocked to his standard; he promised the spoils of the Christians to the Mussulman families that had been driven from Palestine; he distributed cities and provinces beforehand to his faithful emirs, and held out to all his soldiers the certainty of pillage or a glorious martyrdom. The caliph of Bagdad and all the imauns of Egypt, Syria, and Mesopotamia put up prayers for the triumph of his arms and the deliverance of Jerusalem. He crossed the Jordan, and advanced into Galilee at the head of eighty thousand horse.

In a council held at Jerusalem, Guy de Lusignan, the count of Tripoli, and the barons deliberated upon the measures most proper to be adopted to save the kingdom. The knights of the three military orders, the troops of the king and the nobles, the garrisons of cities, with all Christians able to bear arms, received orders to assemble on the plain of Sephouri. It was determined to employ in the prosecution of the war the treasures sent by Henry II., which were kept in the house of the Temple; and to associate the English monarch in the glory of this holy expedition, the arms of England were represented on the standards of the Christian army. The wood of the true cross, which had so often animated the Crusaders in fight, was exhibited to the people as a last means of safety, and carried in triumph to the place where the defenders of Jerusalem were assembled.

An army of fifty thousand fighting men had been collected on the plain of Sephouri, when the leaders learned that Saladin had carried the city of Tiberias by assault, and threatened the citadel, in which were shut up the women and children of the count of Tripoli. The Christians who had escaped from the sword of the Saracens, in the utmost terror, took refuge in the camp of Sephouri, conjuring the king and the chiefs to put an end to the ravages of the infidels. The barons assembled in the tent of Guy, and all at once exclaimed that it was necessary to march immediately against the enemy. Raymond then arose and demanded permission to speak. “I am about,” said he, “to lay before you advice which will surprise you; but I offer it with the greater confidence from its being opposed to my personal interests. My desolated country, my cities in ashes, my subjects ready to submit to death or slavery, my wife exposed to the insults of the Mussulmans all implore instant succour from me and you; but it is my duty to think of the safety of the Christian cities now left without garrisons. In this army assembled on the plain of Sephouri exists the only hope which the Christians of the East have left. You behold here all the soldiers of Christ, all the defenders of Jerusalem; if they perish, the infidels have no other foes to dread. Beware, then, of leading this multitude of men and horses into a dry and arid country, where the season, with thirst and hunger, must soon deliver them up without defence to the enemy. The number even of the Christian soldiers inspires me with more alarm than confidence. They present nothing but a confused troop of men got together in haste, and totally unable to support fatigue. The Mussulman archers are more skilful than our soldiers in casting javelins, and may harass us on our march, without our being able to defend ourselves; the cavalry of Saladin is more numerous and better trained than ours, and may attack us with advantage on the plains, across which we must pass. Abandon, then, I entreat you, Tiberias to the Mussulmans, and let us save an army which may yet repair our losses.

“I swear before God and before man, that I would willingly abandon the county of Tripoli, with all the lands I possess, to procure the safety of the city of Christ. Our only aim must be to destroy the power of Saladin, and at the same time to preserve some defenders for the kingdom of Jerusalem. If we go to meet the enemy and should be conquered, God himself will not be able to save the Christians, but will allow us to be delivered up to the infidels. If, on the contrary, the enemy come to offer themselves to our arms, all our losses will be repaired, and the evils that will fall upon me, will become for me a source of gratification, since I shall have suffered for the cause of Christ and the safety of his people.”

The more generosity there was in this advice, the less sincere it was esteemed. The grand master of the Templars, blinded by his hatred for Raymond, interrupted him several times; he reminded the assembly of the alliance of the count of Tripoli with Saladin, and exclaimed aloud that he could plainly perceive _the wolf’s skin under the fleece of the sheep_. When Raymond invoked the name of Christ, the grand master repeated with bitterness, that the name of _Mahomet_ was better fitted to the mouth of a traitor. The count of Tripoli made not the least reply to the insulting words of the grand master, but finished his speech by these words, uttered with an accent of perfect conviction: “_I will submit to the punishment of death if these things do not fall out as I have said_.”

The council of the knights and barons adopted the opinion of Raymond; but when Guy was left alone in his tent, the grand master came to him, and infused into his mind the blackest suspicions of the conduct and secret designs of the count of Tripoli. The feeble Lusignan, who had already issued several contradictory orders, gave the command for marching to meet the enemy. For the first time, the king of Jerusalem was obeyed, and that was for the ruin of the Christians.

The undetermined conduct that Lusignan had exhibited, communicated itself to the other chiefs, and this want of a fixed purpose spread trouble and confusion throughout the army. The disheartened soldiers quitted the camp of Sephouri with reluctance, and saw nothing around them but presages of an approaching defeat. The Christian army advanced towards Tiberias, and were marching in silence across a plain, which modern travellers call the plain of Batouf, when they perceived the standards of Saladin.

The Mussulman army was encamped on the heights of Loubi, with the Lake of Tiberias in its rear; it covered the tops of the hills, and commanded all the defiles through which the Christians had to pass. The barons and knights then remembered the advice of Raymond, but they had lost the opportunity of following it, and the courage of the Christian soldiers alone could repair the errors of their leaders. The bold and desperate resolution was formed of cutting themselves a passage through the army of the enemy, so as to gain the banks of the Jordan. On the 4th of July, at break of day, the Christians began their march. From the moment they were in motion, the Mussulman archers unceasingly poured upon them showers of arrows. The army of the Franks was bravely enduring, on its march, the attacks of the Saracen archers, when Saladin descended into the plain at the head of his cavalry. Then the Christians were compelled to stop, and fight with the enemy that disputed their passage.[305] The first shock was impetuous and terrible; but as the Franks had for many days been short of both provisions and water, and were oppressed by heat and thirst, they had less strength than courage, and fell more from lassitude than in consequence of their wounds. The bishops passed through the ranks, and endeavoured to revive the ardour of the soldiers by the images of religion.

The true cross, placed upon an elevated spot, for a moment reanimated them, and drew around it the most fervent and the most intrepid. Saladin himself said, in a letter, that the Christian soldiers fought around the cross with the greatest bravery, and that they seemed to consider it the strongest tie that bound them together, and as their impenetrable buckler.[306] But the sight of a revered sign, and the passing ardour which it created, only served to increase the disorder of the fight. All the Mussulman forces united in one body to attack the Christians. The cavalry of Saladin poured down upon them several times with irresistible impetuosity, and penetrated through their ranks; victory was evidently about to incline to the side of the Saracens, when night put an end to the conflict. The Franks and the Saracens both remained on the plain where they had fought all day, and prepared to renew the battle on the morrow.

The Saracens were confident of victory. Saladin went through the ranks of his army, inflaming the courage of the Mussulman soldiers by his presence and his speeches. “To-morrow,” said he, “is a festival for the true believers, for it is on Friday that Mussulmans offer up their prayers, and that Mahomet listens to the vows that are made to him.” The Mussulmans replied to their leader by the loudest acclamations. Saladin then placed archers on the heights, ordered four hundred charges of arrows to be distributed, and disposed his troops in such a manner, that the Christian army should be surrounded from the very commencement of the contest. The Christian soldiers took advantage of the darkness to rally and close in their ranks; but their powers were exhausted. Sometimes they exhorted each other to brave death; and at others, raising their hands towards heaven, implored the All-Powerful to save them. They then uttered threats against the Saracens, who were near enough to hear them; but sad and sinister presentiments appeared to deprive them of all hopes of victory. In order to conceal their alarms, they made their camp resound during the whole night with the noise of drums and trumpets.

At last daylight appeared, and was the signal for the entire ruin of the Christian army. As soon as the Franks beheld the whole of the forces of Saladin, and found themselves surrounded on all sides, they were seized with surprise and terror. The two armies remained for a considerable time drawn up in sight of each other, Saladin waiting until the sun had completely illumined the horizon, to give the signal for attack. From dawn a strong wind had prevailed, which blew full in the faces of the Christians, and covered them with clouds of dust. When Saladin gave the fatal word, the Saracens rushed upon their enemies from all sides, uttering the most terrifying cries. To employ the expressions of Oriental writers, “_It was then that the sons of Paradise and the children of fire fought out their terrible quarrel; the arrows sounded in the air like the noisy flight of birds; the water of swords_ ’sic), _the blood of arrows spouted out from the bosom of the mêlée, and covered the earth like the waters of rain_.”[307] The Christians at first defended themselves valiantly, but Saladin having set fire to the dry grass that covered the plain, the flames surrounded their army, and scorched the feet of both men and horses.

Disorder began to prevail in their ranks, but they fought bravely still. Swords gleamed through the flames, and the Christian knights, rushing from masses of smoke and fire, precipitated themselves, lance in hand, upon their enemies. In their despair, they endeavoured to pierce through the battalions of the Saracens, but everywhere met with an invincible resistance. Again and again they returned to the charge, and as often were they repulsed. A prey to hunger and a consuming thirst, they saw nothing around them but burning rocks and the sparkling swords of their enemies. The mountain of Ettin arose on their left, and in it they endeavoured to find an asylum; but, hotly pursued by the Saracens, they were cast, some down precipices, and others into narrow ravines, where their bravery was of no avail.

The knights of the Temple and St. John performed prodigies of valour, and fought until the close of day, rallying round the wood of the true cross. This sacred standard was borne by the bishop of Ptolemaïs, who was killed in the heat of the battle. The bishop of Lidda, who took it up and endeavoured to fly, was stopped, and taken prisoner. A cry of despair arose from among the Franks when they saw the sign of their safety in the hands of the conqueror; even the most brave cast away their arms, and without attempting to fly, rushed upon the swords of the infidels. The field of battle became nothing but a scene of desolation; and the Christian warriors who had not been able to save the cross of Christ, no longer feared either death or slavery. The king of Jerusalem was made prisoner with his brother Geoffrey, the grand master of the Templars, Renaud de Chatillon, and all the most illustrious knights of Palestine. Raymond, who commanded the vanguard of the Christian army, after having fought valiantly, opened for himself a passage through the Saracens, and fled to Tripoli,[308] where, a short time afterwards, he died of despair, accused by the Mussulmans of having violated treaties, and by the Christians of having betrayed both his religion and his country. Bohemond, prince of Antioch, Renaud of Sidon, the young count of Tiberias, and a small number of soldiers accompanied Raymond in his flight, and were the only persons that escaped after this day, so fatal to the kingdom of Jerusalem.

The Oriental historians whilst describing the victory of the Saracens, have celebrated the bravery and firmness of the Frank knights, covered with their cuirasses, made with rings of steel. These brave warriors at first presented an impenetrable wall to the strokes of the Saracens; but when their horses sunk, exhausted by fatigue, or wounded by lances or javelins, Saladin met with very little more resistance, and the battle became a horrible carnage. An Arabian author, a secretary and companion of Saladin, who was present at this terrible conflict, has not been able to refrain from pitying the disasters of the vanquished. “I saw,” says he, “the hills, the plains, the valleys covered with their dead bodies; I saw their colours abandoned and soiled with blood and dust; I saw their heads struck off, their members dispersed and their carcasses piled up like stones.” After the battle, the cords of the tents were not sufficient to bind the prisoners; the Saracen soldiers drove them in crowds, like vile herds of cattle. The conquerors divided the captives amongst them, and the number was so great, that, according to an historian, a pair of shoes was exchanged for a Christian knight.

Saladin caused a tent to be erected in his camp, in which he received Guy de Lusignan, and the principal leaders of the Christian army, whom victory had placed in his hands. He treated the king of the Franks with kindness, and ordered him to be served with a drink cooled in snow. As the king, after having drunk, presented the cup to Renaud de Chatillon, who was next to him, the sultan stopped him, and said, “That traitor shall not drink in my presence, for I will show him no favour.” Then addressing himself to Renaud, he made him the most severe reproaches for his violation of treaties, and threatened him with death if he did not embrace the religion of the prophet he had insulted. Renaud de Chatillon replied with noble firmness, and braved the menaces of Saladin, who struck him with his sabre. Some Mussulman soldiers, at the signal of their master, threw themselves upon the disarmed prisoner, and the head of a martyr of the cross fell at the feet of the king of Jerusalem.

On the following day the sultan ordered the knights of the Temple and St. John, who were among the prisoners, to be brought before him; and, as they were led past his throne, said, “I will deliver the earth of these two unclean races.” The grand master of the Templars found favour before him, doubtless because his imprudent counsels had given up the Christian army to the swords of the Saracens. A great number of emirs and doctors of the law surrounded the throne of Saladin, and the sultan permitted each of them to slay a Christian knight. Some of them refused to shed blood, and turned their eyes away from so odious a spectacle; but others, arming themselves with swords, massacred knights bound with fetters, without pity, whilst Saladin sat on his throne, applauding the horrible execution. The knights received the palm of martyrdom with joy; most of the prisoners were anxious for death; and many among them, although not belonging to the military orders, cried aloud that they were Hospitallers or Templars, and, as if they feared they should want executioners, pressed before each other, in order to secure the fatal stroke from the hands of the infidels.

Saladin disgraced his victory by this barbarity; the fear with which the Christians inspired him, even after defeat, made him cruel. He became more humane and generous when he felt more assured of his victory and confident of his power. Two days were devoted by the Mussulmans to returning thanks to Heaven for the victory with which it had blessed their arms; and then Saladin gave his attention to all the advantages that might be obtained from it. As soon as he became master of the citadel of Tiberias, he sent the wife of Raymond to Tripoli; and was, with his army, very shortly under the ramparts of Ptolemaïs. This city, full of merchants, and which, at a later period, sustained the attacks of the most powerful armies of the West, during three years, did not stand out two days against Saladin. The inhabitants had liberty to retire with their most valuable property; and the churches were converted into mosques, in which thanks were offered up to Mahomet for the triumphs obtained over the Christian soldiers.

The terror which preceded his army opened to Saladin the gates of Naplouse, Jericho, Ramla, and a great number of other cities which were left almost without inhabitants. The cities of Cæsarea, Arsuf, Jaffa, and Berouth shared the fate of Ptolemaïs; the yellow standards of Saladin floated over their walls. On the sea-coast, the cities of Tyre, Tripoli, and Ascalon still remained in the hands of the Christians. Saladin attacked Tyre without success, and determined to wait for a more favourable opportunity to renew the siege. Ascalon presented itself to him as a conquest of much greater importance, as it would assure his communication with Egypt. This city was besieged by the Mussulmans, but it resisted, at first, with more firmness than Saladin had expected. When a breach was effected, the sultan proposed peace; but the inhabitants, with whom despair supplied the place of courage, sent back his messengers without granting them a hearing. The king of Jerusalem, whom Saladin led with him in triumph, then entreated the defenders of Ascalon not to compromise the safety of their families and the Christians of the city by a useless defence. After this appeal, the principal among them came to the tent of the sultan: “It is not for ourselves,” said they, “that we are come to implore mercy, but for our wives and children. Of what importance is a perishable life to us? We look for a more solid blessing, and that death alone can procure us. God alone, the master of all events, has allowed you to obtain victories over the unhappy Christians; but you shall not enter into Ascalon unless you take pity on our families, and promise to restore the king of Jerusalem to liberty.”

Saladin, touched by the heroism of the inhabitants of Ascalon, accepted the conditions proposed. Such devotedness merited the redemption of a prince of nobler character and more worthy of the love of his subjects than Guy de Lusignan. Saladin consented to liberate the captive monarch at the expiration of a year.

The moment was now come in which Jerusalem was again fated to fall into the power of the infidels; and all Mussulmans earnestly implored Mahomet for this crowning triumph for the arms of Saladin. After having taken Gaza, and several fortresses in the neighbourhood, the sultan drew his army together and marched towards the holy city. A queen in tears, the children of the warriors slain at the battle of Tiberias, a few fugitive soldiers, and some pilgrims recently arrived from the West were the only guardians of the Holy Sepulchre. A great number of Christian families which had left the devastated provinces of Palestine, filled the capital, and, very far from bringing it any assistance, only served to increase the general trouble and consternation.

When Saladin drew near to the holy city, he caused the principal inhabitants to be sent for, and said to them: “I acknowledge, as well as you, that Jerusalem is the house of God; I do not wish to profane its sanctity by the effusion of blood: abandon its walls and I will bestow upon you a part of my treasures; I will give you as much land as you will be able to cultivate.” “We cannot,” they replied, “yield the city in which our God died; still less can we give it up to you.” Saladin, enraged by their refusal, swore upon the Koran to lay prostrate the towers and ramparts of Jerusalem, and to avenge the death of the Mussulmans slaughtered by the companions and soldiers of Godfrey of Bouillon.

At the moment in which Saladin was speaking to the deputies, an eclipse of the sun all at once left the heavens in utter darkness, and appeared to be a presage fatal for the Christians. Nevertheless, the inhabitants, encouraged by the clergy, prepared to defend the city, and chose as their commander Baleau d’Ibelin, who had been present at the battle of Tiberias. This old warrior, whose experience and virtues inspired confidence and respect, immediately set about repairing the fortifications, and training the new defenders of Jerusalem. As he was deficient in officers, he created fifty knights from amongst the citizens; and all the Christians able to bear arms, placed themselves under his command, and swore to shed their blood in the cause of Christ. They had no money to meet the expenses of the war, but all means of obtaining it seemed legitimate in a danger that threatened the city of God. They despoiled the churches, and the people, terrified at the approach of Saladin, beheld, without scandal, the precious metal which covered the chapel of the Holy Sepulchre converted into coin.[309]

The standards of Saladin were soon seen floating over the heights of Emaüs, and the Mussulman army encamped on the same places on which Godfrey, Tancred, and the two Roberts had pitched their tents when they besieged the holy city. The besieged at first resisted boldly, and made frequent sorties, in which they bore in one hand a lance or a sword, and in the other a shovel filled with dust, which they cast upon the Saracens. A great number of Christians received the palm of martyrdom, and ascended, say the historians, to the heavenly Jerusalem—many Mussulmans fell beneath the swords of their enemies, and _went to dwell on the banks of the river which waters Paradise_.

Saladin, after being encamped for several days on the western side of the city, directed his operations towards the north, and caused the ramparts which extended from the gate of Jehoshaphat to that of St. Stephen to be undermined. The bravest of the citizens made a sortie, and endeavoured to destroy the machines and works of the besiegers, encouraging each other by repeating these words of Scripture: “_A single one of us shall make ten infidels fly, and ten of us shall put to flight ten thousand._” They performed prodigies of valour, but they could not interrupt the progress of the siege. Repulsed by the Saracens, they were forced to return to the city, whither their appearance brought terror and discouragement. The towers and ramparts appeared ready to fall at the first signal for a general assault. Despair then took entire possession of the inhabitants, who saw no means of defence within their power but tears and prayers. The soldiers crowded to the churches instead of flying to arms; and not even the promise of a hundred pieces of gold could keep them on the tottering ramparts for one night. The clergy made processions through the streets, to invoke the protection of Heaven. Some struck their breasts with stones, whilst others tore their bodies with hair-cloth, crying aloud for _mercy_! Nothing was heard in Jerusalem but sobs and groans; “_but our Jesus Christ_,” says an old chronicle, “_would not hear them, for the luxury and impurity that were in the city would not allow either orisons or prayers to ascend before him_.” The despair of the inhabitants inspired them with the most contradictory projects at the same time; at one moment they formed the resolution of issuing in a body from the city, and seeking a glorious death in the ranks of the infidels; whilst, the next, they placed their last hope in the clemency of Saladin.

Amid the general trouble and agitation, the Greek and Syrian Christians, with the Melachite Christians, endured very unwillingly the authority of the Latins, and accused them of all the misfortunes of the war. A plot for giving up the city to the Mussulmans was discovered, which redoubled the general alarm, and made the principal inhabitants determine upon demanding a capitulation of Saladin. Accompanied by Baleau d’Ibelin, they went and proposed to the sultan to give up the place to him upon the conditions he had himself proposed before the siege. But Saladin remembered that he had sworn to take the city by assault, and put the inhabitants to the sword; and he sent back the deputies without giving them the least hope. Baleau d’Ibelin returned several times, renewing his supplications and his prayers, but always found Saladin inexorable. One day, whilst the Christian deputies were earnestly imploring him to accept their capitulation, turning towards the place, and pointing to his standards which floated over the walls, “How can you ask me,” said he, “to grant conditions to a city which is already taken?”

Nevertheless, the Saracens were repulsed; and Baleau, reanimated by the success the Christians had obtained, replied to the sultan: “You see that Jerusalem is not without defenders; if we can obtain no mercy from you, we will form a terrible resolution, and the fruits of our despair shall fill you with terror. These temples and palaces that you are so anxious to conquer, shall be totally destroyed; all the riches which excite the ambition and cupidity of the Saracens, shall become the prey of the flames. We will destroy the mosque of Omar; and the mysterious stone of Jacob, which is the object of your worship, shall be broken and pounded into dust. Jerusalem contains five thousand Mussulman prisoners; they shall all perish by the sword. We will, with our own hands, slay our wives and children, and thus spare them the shame of becoming your slaves. When the holy city shall be but a heap of ruins—one vast tomb—we will march out of it, followed by the angry manes of our friends and kindred; we will march out armed with sword and fire; and no one of us will ascend to Paradise without having consigned ten Mussulmans to hell. We shall thus obtain a glorious death, and shall die calling down upon your head the maledictions of the God of Jerusalem.”