Chapter XXXII: Book VIII: A.d. 1188-1192 (2)

On leaving the port of Messina, the English fleet was dispersed by a violent tempest; three vessels were wrecked upon the coast of Cyprus, and the unfortunate crews, who escaped, were ill-treated by the inhabitants and cast into prison. A ship, on board of which were Berengaria of Navarre, and Jane, queen of Sicily, upon presenting itself before Limisso, was forbidden to enter the port. A short time after, Richard arrived with his fleet, which he had succeeded in getting together again, and himself met with an insolent refusal. Isaac, of the family of Comnenus, who, during the troubles of Constantinople, had got possession of the isle of Cyprus, and governed it with the ostentatious title of emperor, dared to threaten the king of England.

His menaces became the signal for war; and both sides were eager for the conflict. Isaac could not resist the first shock of the English; his troops were beaten and dispersed; his cities opened their gates to the conqueror, and the emperor of Cyprus himself fell into the hands of Richard, who, to insult his vanity and avarice, caused him to be bound with chains of silver. The king of England, after having delivered the inhabitants of Cyprus from a master whom they called a tyrant, made them repay this service with the half of their property, and took possession of the island, which was erected into a kingdom, and remained nearly three hundred years under the domination of the Latins.

It was on this island, in the bosom of victory, and in the vicinity of the ancient Amathus, that Richard celebrated his marriage with Berengaria of Navarre. He then set out for Palestine, dragging after him Isaac, loaded with chains, and the daughter of that unfortunate prince, in whom, it is said, the new queen found a dangerous rival.

The Franks celebrated the arrival of Richard with _feux de joie_, lighted up throughout the camp. When the English had united their forces with those of the Christian army, Ptolemaïs saw beneath its walls all that Europe could boast of as illustrious captains and valiant warriors. The tents of the Franks covered a vast plain, and their army presented a most majestic and terrible aspect. A spectator, on beholding on the coast of the sea the towers of Ptolemaïs, and the camp of the Christians, in which they had built houses and traced streets, traversed unceasingly by an immense crowd, might have supposed he saw two rival cities which were at war with each other. Each nation had its leader and its separate quarter, and so many languages were spoken by the Crusaders, that the Mussulmans could not find interpreters enough to enable them to understand all the prisoners. In this confused multitude, each people had a different character, different manners, and different arms; but, at the signal for battle, all were animated by the same zeal and the same ardour; the presence of the two monarchs had re-established discipline, and Ptolemaïs could not have prolonged its resistance, if discord, that eternal enemy of the Christians, had not entered their camp with Richard.

The debates relative to the succession to the throne of Jerusalem were renewed on the arrival of the English. Philip declared for Conrad, which was quite enough to determine Richard to give his voice for Guy de Lusignan. The Christian army was filled with troubles, and again divided into two factions: on one side were the French, the Germans, the Templars, and the Genoese; on the other, the English, the Pisans, and the knights of the Hospital. The two parties, ready to break into open war, no longer united their efforts or their arms against the Saracens; whenever the king of France, at the head of his warriors, proceeded to the assault, the king of England remained in his tent in a state of sullen repose.[334] The besieged had never more than one of the monarchs to contend with at once, and the Christian army, after it had received such powerful auxiliaries, became much less redoubtable to the Saracens.

Amidst the disputes which divided the Crusaders, both kings fell dangerously ill, and their hatred and suspicion were so great, that each accused the other of having made an attempt upon his life. As Saladin sent them refreshments and physicians, and as they addressed frequent messages to him, each party reproached the monarch who was opposed to him with keeping up an impious understanding with the Saracens.

The perils of the army, however, with the glory of religion and the interests of the crusade, for a moment stifled the voice of faction, and induced the Crusaders to unite against the common enemy. After long debates, it was decided that Guy de Lusignan should retain the title of king during his life, and that Conrad and his descendants should succeed to the kingdom of Jerusalem. It was at the same time agreed that when one of the two monarchs should attack the city, the other should watch over the safety of the camp, and keep the army of Saladin in check. This agreement re-established harmony; and the Christian warriors, who had been upon the point of taking arms against each other, now only contended for the glory of conquering the infidels.

The siege was resumed with fresh ardour, but the Mussulmans had employed the time wasted by the Christians in vain disputes, in strengthening the city. When the besiegers appeared before the walls, they met with a resistance entirely unexpected, whilst the army of Saladin continued indefatigable and unceasing in its attacks. At the earliest break of day, the drums and trumpets constantly sounded the signal for battle, both from the walls of Ptolemaïs and the camp of the sultan. Saladin animated his troops by his presence; whilst his brother, Malec-Adel, offered an example of bravery to the emirs. Many great battles were fought at the foot of the hills on which the Christians were encamped, and twice the Crusaders gave a general assault; but on both occasions were obliged to return hastily to their tents, to defend them against Saladin.

In one of these attacks, a Christian knight singly defended one of the gates of the camp against a host of Saracens. The Arabian writers compare this knight to a demon animated by all the fires of hell. An enormous cuirass[335] entirely covered him; arrows, stones, lance-thrusts, made no impression on him; all who approached him were slain, and he alone, though stuck all over with javelins and surrounded by enemies, appeared to have nothing to fear. No weapons or force being able to prevail, the Greek fire was at length employed, which being poured upon his head, devoured by flames, he perished like one of the enormous machines that the besieged had burnt under the walls of the city.

Every day the Crusaders redoubled their efforts, and by turns repulsed the army of Saladin, or made assaults upon Ptolemaïs. In one of these assaults, they filled up a part of the ditches of the city with the carcasses of their dead horses and the bodies of their companions who had fallen beneath the swords of the enemy, or been swept away by disease. The Saracens raised up these horrid masses heaped up under their walls, and cast them back again in fragments upon the banks of the ditches, where the sword and lance were for ever immolating fresh victims. Neither the spectacle of death, nor obstacles, nor fatigue affected the Christians. When their wooden towers and their battering-rams were reduced to ashes, they dug into the earth, and by subterranean ways advanced under the foundations of the ramparts. Every day they employed some fresh means or some new machine to subdue the place. An Arabian historian relates that they raised near their camp a hill of earth of a prodigious height, and that by constantly throwing the earth up before them, they brought this mountain close to the city. It had advanced within half a bow-shot, when the Mussulmans issued from their gates, and precipitated themselves in front of this enormous mass, which grew nearer and nearer, and already threatened their walls. Armed with swords, pickaxes, and shovels, they attacked the troops employed in forwarding it, using every effort to remove it back towards the plain; but were only able to arrest its progress by digging vast and deep ditches in its passage.

Among all the Christian warriors, the French distinguished themselves greatly, and directed their efforts principally against the Cursed Tower, which was erected at the eastern side of the city. A great part of the walls began to fall, and must soon offer a passage to the besieging army. War, famine, and disease had weakened the garrison; the city had not soldiers enough left to defend the ramparts and move about the machines employed against those of the Christians. The place not only stood in need of provisions, but of warlike munitions and Greek fire. The warriors who had gone through so much, began to feel discouragement, and the people loudly murmured against Saladin and the emirs. In this extremity, the commander of the garrison came and proposed a capitulation to Philip Augustus, who swore by the God of the Christians that he would not spare a single inhabitant of Ptolemaïs, if the Mussulmans did not restore all the cities that had fallen into their power since the battle of Tiberias.

The chief of the emirs, irritated by the refusal of Philip, retired, saying that he and his companions would rather bury themselves beneath the ruins of the city, than listen to such terms, and that they would defend Ptolemaïs _as a lion defends his blood-stained lair_. On his return into the place, the commander of the Saracens communicated his courage, or rather his despair, to every heart. When the Christians resumed their assaults, they were repulsed with a vigour that astonished them. “The tumultuous waves of the Franks,” says an Arabian author, “rolled towards the place with the rapidity of a torrent; they mounted the half-ruined walls as wild goats ascend the steepest rocks, whilst the Saracens precipitated themselves upon the besiegers like stones detached from the summits of mountains.”

In one general assault, a Florentine knight of the family of Bonaguisi, followed by some of his men, fought his way into one of the towers of the infidels, and got possession of the Mussulman banner that floated from it. Overpowered by numbers, and forced to retreat, he returned to the camp, bearing the flag he had carried off from the Saracens. In the same assault, Alberic Clement, the first marshal of France of whom history makes mention, scaled the ramparts, and, sword in hand, penetrated into the city, where he found a glorious death. Stephen, count of Blois, and several knights were burnt by the Greek fire, the boiling oil, the melted lead, and heated sand which the besieged poured down upon all who approached the walls.

The obstinate ardour of the Mussulmans was sustained during several days; but as they received no succour, many emirs, at length despairing of the safety of Ptolemaïs, threw themselves, by night, into a bark, to seek an asylum in the camp of Saladin, preferring to encounter the anger of the sultan, to perishing by the sword of the Christians. This desertion, and the contemplation of their ruined towers, filled the Mussulmans with terror. Whilst pigeons and divers constantly announced to Saladin the horrible distresses of the besieged, the latter came to the resolution of leaving the city by night, and braving every peril to join the Saracen army. But their project being discovered by the Christians, they blocked up and guarded every passage by which the enemy could possibly escape. The emirs, the soldiers, and the inhabitants then became convinced that they had no hope but in the mercy of Philip Augustus, and promised, if he would grant them liberty and life, to cause to be given up to the Christians sixteen hundred prisoners, and the wood of the true cross. By the capitulation they engaged to pay two hundred thousand pieces of gold to the leaders of the Christian army, and the garrison, with the entire population of Ptolemaïs, were to remain in the power of the conquerors till the execution of the treaty.

A Mussulman soldier was sent from the city to announce to Saladin that the garrison was forced to capitulate. The sultan, who was preparing to make a last effort to save the place, learnt the news with deep regret. He assembled his council, to know if they approved of the capitulation; but scarcely were the principal emirs met in his tent, when they beheld the standards of the crusaders floating over the walls and towers of Ptolemaïs.

Such was the conclusion of this famous siege, which lasted nearly three years, and in which the crusaders shed more blood and exhibited more bravery than ought to have sufficed for the subjugation of the whole of Asia. More than a hundred skirmishes and nine great battles were fought before the walls of the city; several flourishing armies came to recruit armies nearly annihilated, and were in their turn replaced by fresh armies. The bravest nobility of Europe perished in this siege, swept away by the sword or disease. Among the illustrious victims of this war, history points out Philip, count of Flanders, Guy de Chatillon, Bernard de St. Vallery, Vautrier de Mory, Raoul de Fougères, Eudes de Gonesse, Renaud de Maguy, Geoffroi d’Aumale, viscount de Châtellerault, Josselin de Montmorency, and Raoul de Marle; the archbishops of Besançon and Canterbury; with many other ecclesiastics and knights whose piety and exploits were the admiration of Europe.[336]

In this war both parties were animated by religion; each side boasted of its miracles, its saints, and its prophets. Bishops and imauns equally promised the soldiers remission of their sins and the crown of martyrdom. Whilst the king of Jerusalem caused the book of the Evangelists to be borne before him, Saladin would often pause on the field of battle to offer up a prayer or read a chapter from the Koran.[337] The Franks and the Saracens mutually accused each other of ignorance of the true God and of outraging him by their ceremonies. The Christians rushed upon their enemies crying, “_It is the will of God! It is the will of God!_” and the Saracens answered by their war-cry, “_Islam! Islam!_”

Fanaticism frequently augmented the fury of slaughter. The Mussulmans from the height of their towers insulted the religious ceremonies of the Christians.[338] They raised crosses on their ramparts, beat them with rods, covered them with dust, mud, and filth, and broke them into a thousand pieces before the eyes of the besiegers. At this spectacle the Christians swore to avenge their outraged worship, and menaced the Saracens with the destruction of every Mahomedan pulpit. In the heat of this religious animosity, the Mussulmans often massacred disarmed captives; and in more than one battle they burnt their[339] Christian prisoners in the very field of conflict. The crusaders but too closely imitated the barbarity of their enemies; funeral piles, lighted up by fanatical rage, were often extinguished in rivers of blood.

The Mussulman and Christian warriors provoked each other during single combats, and were as lavish of abuse as the heroes of Homer. Heroines often appeared in the _mêlée_, and disputed the prize of strength and courage with the bravest of the Saracens.[340] Children came from the city to fight with the children of the Christians in the presence of the two armies.

But sometimes the furies of war gave place to the amenities of peace, and Franks and Saracens would for a moment forget the hatred that had led them to take up arms. During the course of the siege several tournaments were held in the plain of Ptolemaïs, to which the Mussulmans were invited. The champions of the two parties harangued each other before entering the lists; the conqueror was borne in triumph, and the conquered ransomed like a prisoner of war. In these warlike festivities, which brought the two nations together, the Franks often danced to the sound of Arabian instruments, and their minstrels afterwards played or sang to the dancing of the Saracens.

Most of the Mussulman emirs, after the example of Saladin, affected an austere simplicity in their vestments and manners. An Arabian author compares the sultan, in his court, surrounded by his sons and brothers, to the star of night, which sheds a sombre light amidst the other stars. The principal leaders of the crusade did not entertain the same love of simplicity, but endeavoured to excel each other in splendour and magnificence. As in the first crusade, the princes and barons were followed into Asia by their hunting and fishing appointments, and the luxuries of their palaces and castles. When Philip Augustus arrived before Ptolemaïs, all eyes were for a moment turned upon the falcons he had brought with him. One of these having escaped from the hands of his keeper, perched upon the ramparts of the city, and the whole Christian army was excited by endeavours to recapture the fugitive bird. As it was caught by the Mussulmans, and carried to Saladin, Philip sent an ambassador to the sultan to recover it, offering a sum of gold that would have been quite sufficient for the ransom of many Christian warriors.

The misery which so often visited the Crusaders, did not at all prevent a great number of them from indulging in excesses of license and debauchery. All the vices of Europe and Asia were met together on one spot. If an Arabian author may be believed, at the very moment in which the Franks were a prey to famine and contagious diseases, a troop of three hundred women from Cyprus and the neighbouring islands arrived in the camp. These three hundred women, whose presence in the Christian army was a scandal in the eyes of the Saracens, prostituted themselves among the soldiers of the cross, and stood in no need of employing the enchantments of the Armida of Tasso to corrupt them.

Nevertheless, the clergy were unremitting in their exhortations to the pilgrims to lead them back to the morals of the Gospel. Churches, surmounted by wooden steeples, were erected in the camp, in which the faithful were every day called together. Not unfrequently the Saracens took advantage of the moment at which the soldiers left their intrenchments unguarded to attend mass, and made flying but annoying incursions. Amidst general corruption, the siege of Ptolemaïs presented many subjects of edification. In the camp, or in the field of battle, charity hovered constantly around the Christian soldier, to soothe his misery, to watch his sick pallet, or dress his wounds. During the siege the warriors from the North were in the greatest distress, and could gain little assistance from other nations. Some pilgrims from Lubeck and Bremen came to their aid, formed tents of the sails of their vessels to shelter their poor countrymen, and ministered to their wants and tended their diseases. Forty German nobles took part in this generous enterprise, and their association was the origin of the hospitable and military order of the Teutonic knights.

When the Crusaders entered Ptolemaïs, they shared the sovereignty of it amongst them, each nation taking possession of one of the quarters of the city, which had soon as many masters as it had had enemies. The king of Jerusalem was the only leader that obtained nothing in the division of the first reconquered place of his kingdom.

The capitulation remained unexecuted; Saladin, under various pretexts, deferring the completion of the conditions. Richard, irritated by a delay which appeared to him a breach of faith, revenged himself upon the prisoners that were in his hands. Without pity for disarmed enemies, or for the Christians he exposed to sanguinary reprisals, he massacred five thousand Mussulmans before the city they had so valiantly defended, and within sight of Saladin, who shared the disgrace of this barbarity by thus abandoning his bravest and most faithful warriors.

This action, which excited the regret of the whole Christian army, sufficiently exposed the character of Richard, and showed what was to be dreaded from his violence; a barbarous and implacable enemy could not become a generous rival. On the day of the surrender of Ptolemaïs, he committed a gross outrage upon Leopold, duke of Austria, by ordering the standard of that prince, which had been planted on one of the towers, to be cast into the ditch.

Leopold dissembled his resentment, but swore to avenge this insult whenever he should find an opportunity. Richard, for ever carried away by his violent and imperious character, desired to command as a master, and alone dictate laws for the whole army of the Crusaders. He endeavoured to corrupt the troops of Philip by largesses; he set a price upon infidelity and treason; and Philip, fearing to compromise the dignity of a king and the interests of the crusade by punishing the outrages and perfidy of his rival, resolved to return to France, where fortune offered him more than one opportunity of usefully revenging himself upon the king of England.

Philip quitted Palestine, leaving in the army ten thousand foot and five hundred horse, under the command of the duke of Burgundy. On his arrival at Tyre, from which port he embarked, he received a solemn embassy from Saladin, who sent him magnificent presents, and complimented him as the most powerful monarch of the West. He soon arrived in Italy, where the holy pontiff praised his devotion, and bestowed upon him the palms of pilgrimage. Welcomed on his return to his kingdom by the benedictions of his people, he carried back the sacred oriflamme to the church of St. Denis, and returned thanks to the apostles of France for having protected his life and the glory of his arms amidst the greatest perils.

When Philip left Palestine, Richard remained at the head of an army of a hundred thousand Crusaders. After having repaired the walls of Ptolemaïs, and allowed his soldiers some little repose, he passed the Belus, crossed Mount Carmel, and marched towards Cæsarea. A fleet from Ptolemaïs kept close to the shore, and transported the provisions, machines of war, and baggage of the Christian army. Saladin, whom Arabian writers often compare to a lioness that has lost her young, upon receiving intelligence of the march of the Crusaders, gathered together his army, and set out in pursuit of them; sometimes getting in advance and attacking their van, at others harassing their flanks, and seizing every soldier that ventured to stray from the main body. Although Cæsarea was only twelve leagues from Ptolemaïs, the Crusaders could not accomplish the distance in less than six days. All the Christians, who were unable to keep up with the army, and fell into the power of Saladin, were put to death by his orders, and their bodies left upon the shore, as an expiation of the massacre of the garrison of Ptolemaïs.

Richard, who found that perils and obstacles multiplied in his route, desired an interview with Malek-Adel, and proposed to make peace, if the Mussulmans would restore the city of Jerusalem to the Christians. Malek-Adel replied that the last of the soldiers of Saladin would perish, rather than renounce conquests made in the name of Islamism. Richard, irritated by this refusal, swore that he would obtain by victory that which he could not obtain from Saladin, and gave orders for the army to pursue their march.[341]

The Crusaders advanced towards the city of Arsur, marching over a long but narrow plain, intersected by torrents, ravines, and marshes, and covered in many places with fragments of rocks, marine plants, and reeds. They had the sea on their right, and on the left rose the steep mountains of Naplouse, defended by the inhabitants of the country and the troops of Saladin. At every passage of a torrent, at every dune or hillock of sand, at every village, a fresh contest had to be sustained, whilst the Mussulman archers, placed upon the heights, annoyed them unceasingly with their arrows. Richard’s army marched in order of battle; the cavalry being placed in the centre; whilst the foot, closing their ranks, presented an impenetrable wall to the enemy, and braved their constantly renewed attacks.

The army of the sultan got in advance of the Crusaders, and laid waste everything in their way; exhausting their efforts and ingenuity to retard, or entirely stop their march. Across the plain of Arsur flowed a torrent which cast itself into the sea near the ramparts of the city; and not far from this torrent, a wood of oaks, which historians call the forest of Sarun, and which is believed to be the forest celebrated by Tasso, extended along the declivities of the mountains of Naplouse: it was upon this spot Saladin awaited the Crusaders to offer them a decisive battle.

A part of his army covered the heights, whilst the remainder encamped upon the banks of the torrent of Arsur. The Christians soon arrived in face of their enemy, and drew up in order of battle. The Danes, Flemings, and Tuscans, commanded by Jacques d’Avesnes, formed the van. Richard marched in the centre, at the head of the English, Normans, Gascons, the Syrian troops, and those of the count of Champagne: the rear-guard was composed of French and Germans, under the orders of the duke of Burgundy and Leopold of Austria. Whilst the archers were showering their arrows from a distance, Saladin passed through the ranks, and roused the courage of his soldiers, who replied to him with cries of _Allah ac bar!_—God is powerful.[342] Profound silence prevailed in the Christian army; the black cuirasses of the Crusaders seeming to darken the horizon, whilst sixty thousand swords gleamed out from amidst clouds of dust. All at once the Christian infantry opened their ranks, and the cavalry rushed forward towards the enemy, drawn up on the banks of the torrent of Arsur. Jacques d’Avesnes, who commanded them, penetrated twice into the closely-pressed ranks of the Saracens, and twice was compelled to retreat in disorder. At the third charge his leg was severed by the stroke of a sabre, but he still pursued the infidels, when the arm with which he fought was struck off at a blow. The Christian hero fell amidst the enemy, calling aloud upon Richard, and conjuring him to avenge his death.

The king of England advanced with the main body, sweeping away the crowd of Saracens that opposed his passage, and pursuing them to the other side of the torrent; but whilst he yielded to his ardour, and advanced before the Christian army, the chosen troops of the Mussulmans descended from the mountains of Naplouse, and poured down upon the rear of the Christians. Richard was forced to retrace his steps to support the French and Germans, who were beginning to give way. The plain in which the battle was fought, could scarcely contain all the combatants. The Christians and Mussulmans closed, and attacked each other man to man; the foot fought pellmell with the horse, exhorting each other to brave death. The cries of rage, despair, and agony were mingled with the clashing of swords, lances, and shields. The two armies, confounded and mixed together, became nothing but one horrible spectacle. If we believe the somewhat improbable account of an English historian,[343] Richard and Saladin met in the _mêlée_, and rushed upon each other sword in hand, and the two armies instantly became motionless, leaving to their great leaders the honour of deciding the fate of the battle. This singular circumstance, which poetry might envy history, is not mentioned by Arabian writers.[344] The battle lasted almost during the whole day. Towards evening the Mussulmans were broken on all sides, and retreated in disorder into the forest of Saron, whither the fear of an ambuscade prevented the Christians from pursuing them, and destroying the wreck of their army.

The battle of Arsur was one of the most celebrated of this war; in it the Mussulmans lost a great number of their bravest emirs, and particularly regretted a chief of Saladin’s Mamelukes, whose heroic courage is highly celebrated by their historians. No Saracen warrior was more prompt to meet danger, and he was always the first to fly to the assistance of his companions, though he himself needed aid from no man. His horse being slain, this brave emir was encumbered with the weight of his iron armour, and received several mortal wounds. Many Mussulman soldiers hastened to his relief; _but he was already amongst the inhabitants of heaven_!

The Christians wept for the death of Jacques d’Avesnes, who had so often shown them the path to victory. In this glorious day the loss of the Crusaders was much less than that of the Mussulmans; their leaders and soldiers displayed a degree of skill that they had never evinced before. The Saracen cavalry, superior to that of the Crusaders, had not room to perform their usual evolutions with advantage in so confined a field. They attacked the Christians several times with great impetuosity, but the Crusaders withstood them with immovable firmness, and constantly rallied around their great standard, which floated from the summit of a rolling tower. A remarkable circumstance of this battle is, that it was principally gained by the infantry, a force which, although held in contempt in the first crusade, had learnt to be redoubtable under the walls of Ptolemaïs.

Richard, who had conquered the Saracens, was not wise enough to profit by their defeat; instead of pursuing the enemy, or marching straight to Jerusalem, he led his army to Jaffa, the ramparts of which Saladin had demolished, and which the Mussulmans had abandoned. He occupied himself with repairing the fortifications, and sent for the Queen Berengaria, Jane, the widow of the king of Sicily, and the daughter of Isaac. Surrounded by a brilliant court, he forgot, in the intoxication of pleasure and festivities, the conquest of Jerusalem, for which he had come into Asia. During this fatal repose, he was on the point of losing with his life and liberty the fruit of all his victories. Being one day hunting in the forest of Saron, overcome by heat or fatigue, he alighted from his horse and fell asleep under a tree. All at once he was aroused by the cries of those who accompanied him,—a troop of Saracens was close upon them! He sprang upon his horse, and prepared to defend himself; but was near sinking beneath the force of numbers, when a knight of his suite, named _William Pourcelet_, cried out in the Arabic tongue, “_I am the king; spare my life._”[345] At these words, this generous warrior was surrounded by the Mussulmans, who made him prisoner and conducted him to Saladin. The king of England, thus saved by the heroism of a French knight, escaped the pursuit of the enemy, and returned to Jaffa, where his army learnt with terror the danger they had been in of losing their leader.

Richard formed the project of besieging Ascalon; and Saladin being doubtful of his power to defend that city, resolved to destroy it. In vain the inhabitants came to implore his pity; in the space of a few days the strongest and most flourishing city of Syria was consumed by fire, and remained nothing but a heap of ruins.

The demolition of Ascalon excited great sorrow among the Mussulmans; and the king of England, who had entertained hopes of rendering himself master of the place, was as much afflicted as if he had lost one of his conquests. This city, which had cost the Christians and Mussulmans so much blood, opened at once to the Crusaders the gates of Palestine and Egypt. Richard undertook to rebuild the ramparts that the Mussulmans had destroyed, and led his army into the plain, covered by the ruins of Ascalon.

It was a curious spectacle to behold thirty thousand warriors from the West employed in rebuilding the walls of a city of Syria. The Crusaders, as the Hebrews have been described to us whilst erecting the temple of Jerusalem, were obliged to work with the sword in one hand and the tools of masonry in the other. Saladin might have disturbed their labours; but he preferred giving his army a little repose, and recruiting its numbers; persuaded that the divisions that existed among his enemies would soon work to his advantage. The Christian army obeyed Richard very unwillingly. Leopold of Austria, accused by the king of England of remaining idle with his Germans, contented himself with replying _that he was neither a carpenter nor a mason_. The greater part of the knights who were thus employed in moving stones and digging ditches, were exceedingly indignant, and said aloud that they did not come into Asia to rebuild Ascalon, but to conquer Jerusalem.

Whilst the Christian army was in this dissatisfied state, the marquis of Tyre, who had been ill-treated by Richard, courted the alliance of the sultan, and promised to restore Ptolemaïs to him, if the Mussulmans would agree to protect him against his enemies. The king of England, warned of this perfidious negotiation, became only anxious to defeat the projects of Conrad, and himself made propositions to Saladin. He renewed the promise he had made to Malek-Adel to return into Europe if Jerusalem and the wood of the true cross were restored to the Christians. “Jerusalem,” replied Saladin, “never belonged to you; we cannot without a crime abandon it to you, for in it were accomplished the mysteries of our religion.” As to the wood of the true cross, Saladin considered it as an object of scandal, as an insult to divinity. He had refused to give it up to the king of Georgia or the emperor of Constantinople, both of whom had offered him considerable sums for it. “All the advantages to be procured by peace,” said he, “cannot bring me to restore this disgraceful monument of their idolatry to the Christians.”

Richard, who really considered the restitution of the true cross of very little importance, did not reiterate his demand; but as he was desirous of peace, he made other proposals, in which he adroitly interested the ambition of Malek-Adel, the brother of the sultan. The widow of William of Sicily, the sister of Richard, was offered in marriage to the Mussulman prince; under the auspices of Saladin and Richard, they might reign together over Mussulmans and Christians, and govern the kingdom of Jerusalem. The historian Omad was charged by Malek-Adel with the task of communicating this proposition to Saladin, who appeared to adopt it without repugnance.[346] The project of this singular union created great surprise among the imauns and doctors of the law; and the Christian bishops, when they were informed of it, expressed the strongest indignation, and threatened both Jane and Richard with the thunders of the Church.

The execution of this plan appeared impossible in the midst of a religious war: and everything leads us to believe that Saladin only affected to give it attention that he might gain time to fortify Jerusalem, which the Christians still demanded of him. Skilful workmen from Aleppo were, by his orders, employed in widening the ditches and repairing the walls. Among the Mussulman workmen were two thousand Christian prisoners, condemned to rebuild the fortresses occupied by the infidels. Saladin encouraged the labours by his presence and his example, animating the zeal of the people and soldiers by frequently reminding them of the victories of the Mussulmans, and of the massacre of their brethren slaughtered before Ptolemaïs.

The conquest of the holy city was the object of the war,—the great reward promised to the labours of the crusaders; and they at length earnestly pressed Richard to march towards Jerusalem. He was obliged to yield to their impatience, and led them as far as Bethonopolis,[347] situated between Ascalon and the capital of Palestine. At the approach of the Franks, Saladin ordered all the country through which their army must pass to be laid waste. By the commands of the sultan the ramparts of Ramla and Lidda, with the fortress of Nitro, were demolished. All the routes which led to Jerusalem were guarded by Mussulman cavalry, who unceasingly harassed the Christians, and prevented their receiving provisions from Ptolemaïs or other maritime cities.

In proportion with their approximation to Jerusalem, the enthusiasm and ardour of the Crusaders increased; but Richard and most of the leaders did not at all partake of the impatience of the soldiers. The Christian army was only one day’s march from the sea-coast, and yet want of provisions began to be sensibly felt. If in the plains of Ptolemaïs, where the Crusaders could look for provisions to the Mediterranean, they had experienced all the horrors of famine, what miseries had they not reason to expect under the walls of Jerusalem? Mussulman troops were encamped in the plains of Jericho and Hebron, and in the country of Naplouse, and had the power at all times to throw succour into Jerusalem, if that city were besieged by the Christians. Winter, besides, was beginning to create a dread of contagious diseases; the leaders of the army were divided among themselves, and even the sight of danger could scarcely bring them to act in concert. All these circumstances produced doubt and irresolution in the minds of Richard and the most prudent of the barons and knights.

Richard entertained hopes that Saladin would come and offer him battle, and that a victory would at once throw open the gates of Jerusalem to him; but the sultan, who had proved the strength and bravery of the Christians at Arsur, was not willing to expose his conquests to the hazard of a battle. Richard, on his part, dreaded the perils and fatigues of a protracted siege, and suddenly led back his army to the plains of Ascalon.

The multitude of the Crusaders, who were ignorant of or did not appreciate the motives of the king of England, only obeyed him with murmurs, and most of the leaders, declared enemies of Richard, mingled their complaints with those of the soldiers. Several dissatisfied Crusaders deserted the standards which no longer pointed out to them the road to Jerusalem.

Whilst the army was marching despondingly back to the plains of Ascalon, the Genoese and Pisans, continually at variance, broke into open war within the walls of Ptolemaïs. Conrad took part with the Genoese, whilst the king of England as eagerly defended the Pisans, and terminated this civil war by forcing Conrad and the Genoese to retreat to the city of Tyre.

Amidst these sanguinary disputes, Conrad, who had an ambassador at the court of Saladin, unable longer to endure the authority of Richard, entered into an alliance with the Mussulmans. Saladin, by treaty, abandoned to the marquis of Tyre all the cities the latter might take from the Christians, and promised to aid him in his conquests, only reserving the booty for the Mussulman soldiers. This treaty, dictated by hatred to Richard, was the signal for the death of Conrad; a very short time afterwards the marquis of Tyre perished by an unknown hand.

English authors assert that Conrad had had quarrels with the chief of the Ismaëlians, and that he was assassinated by the orders of this redoubtable enemy. Two young slaves left the voluptuous gardens, in which their master had brought them up, to execute his vengeance. They arrived at Tyre, and, in order to conceal their purpose the better, received baptism. They engaged themselves in the service of Conrad, and remained six months about his person, apparently only occupied in offering up prayers to the God of the Christians. One day, as the marquis was coming from dining with the bishop of Beauvais, the two Ismaëlians attacked him, and wounded him mortally. Whilst the people congregated tumultuously, one of the assassins fled into a neighbouring church, into which, likewise, the bleeding marquis was borne. The Ismaëlian, who had concealed himself, suddenly rushed through the crowd, and again falling upon Conrad, struck him repeatedly with his dagger, till he was quite dead. The two assassins were seized, and both died amidst tortures, without uttering a single groan, or naming the person who had employed them to take away the life of the marquis of Tyre.[348]

The continuator of Tabary says that Saladin had offered the Old Man of the Mountains ten thousand pieces of gold if he would cause the marquis of Tyre and the king of England to be assassinated; but the prince of the mountain, adds the same historian, did not think proper to deliver Saladin entirely from his war with the Franks, and only performed half of that which had been required of him. The Christians did not attribute the death of Conrad to Saladin, but many among them accused Richard of it. A short time after the murder, a letter was published, in which the lord of the mountain avowed himself to be the author of the assassination; but this letter bore no character of authenticity about it. The savage lord of the mountain could not write, and could have no interest in making the apology of a Christian prince.[349] The king of England himself strengthened the public suspicions by taking possession of Tyre, and giving the widow of Conrad in marriage to his nephew, the count of Champagne. However it may be, this accusation, which was accredited among the Christians, announced plainly the idea they entertained of the character of Richard. The account of the death of Conrad soon reached Europe, and Philip Augustus, dreading the same fate, no longer appeared in public without being surrounded by a guard. The court of France accused Richard of the blackest attempts; but it is probable that Philip, on this occasion, showed more fear than he really felt, in order to render his rival the more odious, and to arm against him the hatred of the pope, and the indignation of all the princes of Christendom.

After the death of Conrad, Richard had no rivals to suspect, or enemies to fight with among the Christians; the opinion even that was entertained of his character, only served to augment his authority, by creating a dread of his hatred or vengeance. He took advantage of a moment, in which Saladin disbanded part of his army, to get possession of the castle of Darcum, built upon the confines of Palestine, towards Egypt. He undertook several other enterprises, which spread terror and surprise among the Saracens; and, all at once, to satisfy the wishes of the Crusaders, marched towards Jerusalem, in which city Saladin had shut himself up with all the troops he could gather together. At the approach of the Christians, the sultan convoked his emirs, and made them swear, on the stone of Jacob, to be buried beneath the ruins of the city rather than yield it up to the soldiers of Richard.

The Christian army encamped at the foot of the mountains of Judea, all the passes of which were guarded by the troops of Saladin and the Saracen peasants of Naplouse and Hebron. As Richard drew near to Jerusalem, his aversion to the idea of allowing the duke of Austria and the duke of Burgundy to share in such a glorious conquest increased; whilst they were not at all willing to assist the king of England in an enterprise that would so much augment his pride and renown. Every time that he proposed to proceed against the holy city, the zeal of the leaders of the army appeared to cool;[350] and when Richard sought to defer the conquest, most of them endeavoured to arouse the enthusiasm of the Crusaders, and repeated the oath they had taken to deliver the tomb of Christ. Thus the proximity to Jerusalem, which ought to have united the Christians more firmly, only served to increase their divisions, and spread trouble, disorder, and discouragement through the whole army.

The Christians were but a few leagues from Jerusalem, and the council assembled to determine what steps must be taken. Many of the leaders thought that they ought at once to besiege the city, and spoke of the consternation of the Mussulmans. The soldiers of Saladin, said they, had not forgotten the evils of Ptolemaïs, and trembled at the idea of again shutting themselves within the ramparts of a city. Fugitives from Jerusalem had informed them that the presence even of Saladin could not keep up the spirits of the soldiers, and that all the inhabitants, seized with terror, were upon the point of flying to Damascus.

They who maintained an opposite opinion, among whom was Richard, thought that the reports spread regarding the disposition of the Mussulmans were but a snare of Saladin’s, by which he hoped to lure the Crusaders into places in which he could destroy them without fighting. “At the moment in which we are speaking,” said they, “the Mussulman cavalry surround the plain on which our army is encamped. It is difficult and dangerous to advance across the mountains of Judea. The roads, bordered by precipices, are, in many places, cut through the solid rock, and are dominated by steep heights, from which ill-armed peasants will be sufficient to crush, or at least to stop the columns of the Christians. How are we to transport through such narrow passes our baggage, our machines, or our munitions of war? If our bravery should succeed in surmounting all these difficulties, will it be easy to keep up our communications with the coast? If we are conquered, how shall we make our retreat, pursued by the army of Saladin?”

Opinions continued to be divided: the king of England wished to retreat to Ascalon; whilst the dukes of Austria and Burgundy warmly maintained that they ought to march towards Jerusalem. Twenty-four knights were selected to determine upon the course that was to be adopted, and the Christian army awaited their decision with an impatience mingled with fear. After having deliberated for some time, the twenty-four knights concluded that the army could not pursue its march without danger, and that the most prudent plan would be to retreat towards the sea-coast. Richard, after having given the order for retreat, whether he was sincerely afflicted, or whether he wished to regain the confidence and esteem of the Crusaders, turned towards Jerusalem with his eyes filled with tears, and covering his face with his buckler, declared himself unworthy to behold a city that he could not conquer.

The Crusaders once more turned their backs upon Jerusalem, which they had sworn so often and so solemnly to deliver, the soldiers totally unable to comprehend the policy or intentions of their leaders. Richard, who had led the Christian army towards the holy city, might at least be accused of want of determination of purpose.[351] The uncertainty of his plans completed the destruction of the confidence which his skill and great military talents had created; and the despair of the Crusaders put an end to the fear of a chief they no longer loved. Discord broke out with fresh fury; such as remained partisans of Richard, reproached his enemies with misleading the spirit of the army; but all parties mutually accused each other of favouring the cause of the infidels. As is generally the case in unsuccessful wars, perfidy and treachery were the subjects most current among the Crusaders.

The most violent complaints were uttered against Richard, who replied to his enemies in a strain of high-minded bravery, worthy of an Amadis or a Roland. At the head of a weak detachment, he took a convoy of seven thousand camels on the way to Jerusalem; on another occasion, going on board a vessel with a few knights, he landed at Jaffa, where the banners of Saladin floated over the towers and ramparts; he pursued the conquerors sword in hand, and forced them to abandon their temporary conquest. A few days after, the king of England, with a troop of his chosen knights, attacked a body of seven thousand Mussulman horse; he rushed in amongst them, and with a stroke of his sabre struck dead at his feet the leader of the Saracens, who all appeared stupified and motionless with surprise and fear.

But all these perils and all this glory were lost for the cause of the Christians. Richard became every day more odious to his associates; the duke of Burgundy with the French retired discontented to Ptolemaïs; the Germans, commanded by the duke of Austria, quitted Palestine, and Richard remained alone with the English.[352] Hitherto the king of England, as he himself told the ambassadors of Saladin, had taken but little interest in the deliverance of the holy places, and had only performed such prodigies of valour to increase his fame in the Christian world. A desire to efface the glory of Philip, much more than a zeal for religion, governed him in his contests with the Saracens; he underwent the labours of the holy war in the hope that his exploits in Palestine would assist him in triumphing over his rivals and enemies beyond the seas; but as he began to fear being left without an army, and dreaded the enterprises of Philip, and the plots of his brother John, against his European states, he determined to resume his negotiations with Saladin. The various thoughts that harassed his mind, the shame of not having conquered Jerusalem, the fear of losing his own kingdom, made him adopt and reject resolutions of the most opposite nature. At one time he determined upon returning to Europe without making peace at all—first he supplicated, then he menaced Saladin, and endeavoured to frighten him, by spreading a report that the pope was about to arrive in Palestine with an army of two hundred thousand Crusaders.

Winter had not yet passed away, and the passage of the Mediterranean was not without danger. “The sea is stormy,” wrote he one day to Saladin, “but I will brave its tempests, and return to Europe if you are disposed to make peace. But if you still desire war, I will brave all its perils, and will lay siege to Jerusalem.” Saladin was encamped in the vicinity of Ramla, and called his emirs together to deliberate upon the proposals of Richard. “Up to this period,” said he, “we have fought with glory, and the cause of Islamism has triumphed by our arms. I fear that death may surprise me during a peace, and may prevent my terminating the good work we have begun. Since God gives us victory, he commands us to continue the war, and we ought to obey his will.” Most of the emirs applauded the courage and firmness of Saladin, but they represented to him, “that the cities were without defence, and the provinces were devastated; the fatigues of war had weakened the Mussulman army; the horses wanted forage, and provisions for the soldiers were dearer than gold.” “If we reduce the Franks to despair,” added they, “they may still overcome us, and wrest all our victories from our hands. It is wise to observe the maxim of the Koran, which orders us to grant peace to our enemies when they ask it. Peace will give us time to fortify our cities, to recruit our forces, and resume the war with advantage; when the Franks, always faithless in treaties, will offer us fresh pretexts for attacking them.”

Saladin plainly perceived by this speech of his emirs, that the greater part of the Saracen warriors were beginning to lose the ardour and zeal they had evinced for the cause of Islamism. The sultan was abandoned by several of his auxiliaries, and dreaded the appearance of division in his own empire. The armies were close to each other, and the dust which arose from the two camps, says an Arabian author, mingled in the air and formed but one cloud. Neither the Christians nor the Mussulmans showed the least impatience to go beyond the boundaries of their ramparts and ditches, and both being equally tired of the war, it became the interest of the two leaders to make peace. The disposition of the minds of the combatants, with the impossibility of pursuing any warlike enterprises, at length led to the adoption of a truce for three years and eight months.[353]

It was determined that Jerusalem should be open to the devotion of the Christians, and that they should hold all the sea-coast from Jaffa to Tyre. The Saracens and the Christians had both claims upon Ascalon, which was considered as the key to Egypt, and which the Arabs called the _spouse of Syria_. To terminate these disputes, it was agreed that this city should be again demolished. It is not unworthy of remark, that not a word was said about the true cross, which had been the subject of the first negotiations, and for which Richard had sent several ambassadors to Saladin. The principal leaders of the two armies swore, on the one side upon the Koran, and on the other upon the Gospel, to observe the conditions of the treaty. Royal majesty assumed something more imposing and august than even the sanctity of an oath, for the sultan and the king of England contented themselves with giving their word and touching the hands of the ambassadors.