GEOFFREY OF VINSAUF.
[Sidenote: 1880.]
The children were talking, at their next meeting, of the curious question, what makes one book interesting while another is dull.
“You can almost tell,” said Hester, “when you open a book, whether it will be entertaining. It seems as if there were something in the look of the page.”
Uncle Fritz set them to guessing what were the easiest books for foreigners to read, in learning English. He told them that “The Vicar of Wakefield” is one of the books given to all beginners. This is because the English style is so simple.
“What makes books interesting to young people,” he said, “and, for that matter, to old people, is human incident; and the more life-like this incident,--nay, the more detail in it, within certain limits, of human affairs,--the more will it interest the average reader.”
Blanche said that she was on the top of Mt. Washington once, when Mr. Alger happened to be there. When he saw how she pointed out every chimney-smoke and every shed or barn, which relieved the wide spread of uninhabited forest, he told her it was the “human pathos” which gave interest to the scene.
That is an admirable observation, and the expression is worth remembering.
“Do you remember,” said Uncle Fritz, “how much interest you took in Plutarch’s Lives? That is because they are all crowded with personal anecdotes of the men he describes. In these bits of real life we see the men. It is as you look on a street at night, when there is a flash of lightning. You see the comers and goers for that instant, and, when another flash comes, you see them again. For the moment you see them well.
“Now our modern school of biography is very apt to drag us through the book, and yet not let us see the man once plainly. ‘Whether Mr. Smith were descended from Reginald Smythe, who crossed with the Conqueror, or from Thomas the smith, who held the forge at the manor of Shoebury, is not well known. The family first appears on the American registers in the person of John Smith, who, with his wife Mary, crossed in the Cat, Jones, master, in 1629,’ and so on, and so on.
“Ah me! I have read miles of such biographies.
“It is just so with histories and books of travel,” continued Uncle Fritz. “If the man will tell you something about some real people, you will read. But if he says, ‘The army this day advanced through an open country,’ or ‘The fleet this day lay by, waiting for orders,’ you skip, if you dare, because ‘army’ and ‘fleet’ do not interest you as Richard and Saladin do.”
Alice said she supposed this was the reason why novels are pleasanter reading than the dull histories.
Uncle Fritz smiled his approval, because he saw that the girl had listened intelligently so far; and Alice said that they had been reading Scott’s novel of “The Talisman” aloud, as they met to make baby-clothing in their “Lend-a-Hand Club.” They had just come to the loss of the banner, and they wanted terribly to look forward and see what happened to the brave Scot.
“While you are waiting,” said Uncle Fritz, “suppose we take down the true story of the Siege of Acre.” So he sent Fanchon for the book, which proved to be the next volume of Bohn’s Antiquarian Library to that which had the travels of Sir John Mandeville.
Uncle Fritz gave it to Alice to read about the Siege of Acre. But, as she looked for that, she came to some earlier passages first, describing the start for the Third Crusade; and once and again the children recognized scraps which Sir Walter Scott had used.
The book is by Geoffrey of Vinsauf. It is called the Itinerary of Richard I. As you will see, it has no lack of personal anecdote, or “human pathos.”
[Sidenote: 1189.]
Saladin had got possession of nearly all the kingdom, and everything succeeded to his wishes. Elated with his proud triumphs, he talked in magnificent terms of the law of Mahomet, and pointed to the result of his enterprise as a proof that it was superior to the law of Christ. These insolent vaunts he often threw out in the presence of the Christians, one of whom, well known to him for his loquacity, on a certain occasion, inspired by the Almighty, turned him into ridicule by the following reply: “God, who is the Father of the faithful, judging the Christians worthy of reproof for their crimes, has chosen thee, O prince, as his agent in this matter. Thus, sometimes, a worldly father in anger seizes a dirty stick out of the mire, wherewith when he has chastised his erring sons he throws it back among the filth where he found it.”
Whilst these things were done in Palestine the Archbishop of Tyre had embarked on shipboard, and already reported to Christendom the news of this great calamity,[8] and the affliction of so small a kingdom was felt as a calamity over many countries. Fame had carried to the ears of all the kings and of all the faithful, that the inheritance of Christ was occupied by the heathen. Some were affected to tears by the news, and some were stimulated to vengeance. First of all, Richard, the brave Earl of Poitou, assumed the cross to avenge its wrongs, and took the lead of all, inviting others by his example. His father Henry, King of England, was now declining in years; yet the young man was not deterred by either his father’s advanced age, or his own right to the throne, or the difficulties of so long a voyage; no arguments could deter him from his purpose. The Almighty, to reward the valor of this brave man, whom he had chosen to be the first inciter of the others, reserved him, after the other princes were dead or returned to their own country, to achieve his great work.
Some time after, Philip, King of France, and Henry, King of England, took the cross at Gisors, followed by the nobles of both kingdoms, with numbers of the clergy and laity,--all with equal aspirations, bent upon the same design. So great was the ardor of this new pilgrimage, that it was no longer a question of who would take the cross, but who had not yet taken it. Several persons sent a present of a distaff and wool to one another, as a significant hint that whosoever declined the campaign would degrade himself as much as if he did the duties of a woman: wives urged their husbands, mothers their sons, to devote themselves to this noble contest; and they only regretted that the weakness of their sex prevented themselves from going also. The renown of this expedition spread so extraordinarily, that many migrated from the cloister to the camp, and, exchanging the cowl for the cuirass, showed themselves truly Christ’s soldiers, in quitting their libraries for the study of arms. The prelates of the churches publicly preached to one another the virtue of abstinence, admonishing all men that, laying aside all extravagance in dress, they should refrain from their accustomed luxuries.
It was agreed also, both among nobles and bishops, by common consent, that to maintain the pilgrims that were poor, those who remained at home should pay tithes of their property; but the flagitious cupidity of many took advantage of this to lay heavy and undue exactions upon their subjects.... In process of time, Frederic, the Roman emperor, assumed the insignia of the holy pilgrimage, and displayed, both outwardly in his dress, and inwardly in his heart, the form of a true pilgrim. So great a king, whose empire was bounded on the north by the Northern Ocean, on the south by the Mediterranean Sea, whose glory was augmented by continual victories, whose fortune had experienced no check, resigns every pleasure and blandishment of the world, and humbly girds on his sword to fight for Christ. His bravery, especially in his declining years, is no less to be wondered at than praised; for though he was an old man and had sons, whose age and valor seemed better fitted to military service, yet esteeming them insufficient, he took upon himself the charge of defending Christianity; but when his sons urged him to let them discharge the task which he had undertaken, either in his stead or in his company, he left his eldest son to govern his empire, and the younger, whom he had created Duke of Suabia, he took with him on the expedition; and because the imperial majesty never assails any one without sending a defiance, but always gives notice of war to his enemies, a herald is dispatched from the emperor to Saladin, calling upon him to give full satisfaction to Christendom, which he has injured, or failing to do so, to prepare himself for war.
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[Sidenote: 1190.]
The princes of all the empire followed him, and when they were met at Mayence, according to the imperial edict, all of them joined with one acclaim in taking the vow of so noble a pilgrimage....
Thus, then, led by the Holy Spirit, they flocked together on every side; and whoever could have seen so many nations and princes under one commander must have believed that the ancient glory of Rome was not yet departed.
In this army of Christ were pontiffs, dukes, earls, marquises, and other nobles without number; for if we were to recapitulate their names and territories, the writer would become tedious, his reader be disgusted, and his plan of brevity be overthrown. It was determined by a prudent council that no one should go on this expedition whose means could not provide him with supplies for one year. A large number of carriages were constructed for the use of the pilgrims who should be sick, that they might neither give trouble to the sound, nor be left behind and perish. It had long been a question whether the mass of the army should proceed by sea or land. But it seemed that any number of ships, however large, would be insufficient to transport so great a multitude. The emperor, therefore, urging on the task which he had undertaken, determined to march through Hungary; and so, though he was the last sovereign who took the vow of pilgrimage, he was the first to carry it into effect.... Our army, having entered the territories of the Turks, experienced no hostility during several days. The sultan wished by his forbearance to allure them into the heart of his dominions, until want of food and the asperities of the road should give him more ready means of annoying them. That nefarious traitor had seized the rugged mountain-tops, the thickets of the woods, and the impassable rivers; and whilst he professed to observe the treaty which he had made, he opposed arrows and stones to our passage. This was the market and the safe-conduct which he had promised us. Such is the faith that must be placed in the unbelievers; they always esteem valor and treachery as equally praiseworthy towards an enemy.
Moreover, they avoid, above all things, coming to close quarters and fighting hand to hand; but they shower their arrows from a distance; and with them it is no less glory to flee, than to put their enemies to flight. They attack both extremities of the army, at one time the rear, at another time the van; that, if by any chance they can be separated, they may attack either the one or the other by itself. Night brought with it neither sleep nor rest; for a terrific clamor disturbed the army on every side. A shower of javelins pierced through their tents; numbers of them were slain asleep, and the enemy hung on them so incessantly that for six weeks they ate their meals under arms and slept under arms, without taking off their coats of mail. At the same time they were assailed by such violent hunger and thirst, that when they lost their horses by the chances of war, it was to them a consolation and source of delight to feed on horse-flesh and drink the blood; in this manner, by the ingenuity which necessity teaches, they found out an additional use for the animals on which they rode.
There was a place between high rocks which was rendered so difficult to pass by reason of the steep ascent and the narrowness of the paths that when the first division of the army, led by the emperor’s son, had passed through, the Turks suddenly rushed from their ambush on the last division, and in their confidence of victory, attacked them with lance and sword. The alarming news was carried to the duke, who returned with headlong haste upon his march, eagerly retracing all the difficulties which he had a little before rejoiced at having surmounted. His rage heeded not danger; his cavalry were made to gallop where, before, they could not even walk. In this manner, whilst he was anxiously and incautiously seeking for his father on every side, and incessantly shouting his father’s name, his helmet was struck off by a stone, and his teeth knocked out, yet still he remained immovable and unshaken.... At last, after many severe attacks, the army arrives at Iconium, where that wicked traitor had shut himself within the walls of the city. Our soldiers pitched their tents at no great distance, uncertain what new disasters the morrow might bring with it.
It was now about the end of Whitsuntide, and that same night so violent and sudden a storm burst upon them that its fury was felt even within the camp. In the morning, when the clouds were dispersed, the sky became clear, and behold! the Turkish army appear around on every side, with trumpets, drums, and horrid clang, ready to attack. They had never before been seen in such multitudes, nor could they have been conceived to have been so numerous. All this multitude had been roused to arms by the sultan’s son, Melkin, who wished to anticipate his father-in-law Saladin’s victory, and, trusting in the number and valor of his men, was confident of success. Meanwhile the sultan had ascended a lofty tower, where he sat in expectation, eying the country beneath him, and the armies that were ready to engage; and hoping in a short time to see accomplished what his sanguine mind had promised. The emperor, seeing some of his men alarmed at the unusual multitude of the enemy, displayed the confidence of a noble chieftain, and raising his hands to heaven, gave thanks to God, in the sight of all, that the inevitable necessity was at length arrived for that combat which had so long been deferred by the flight of the enemy.
At these words all were inspired with fresh ardor as they looked on the emperor’s placid countenance, and one old man, weak though he was, supplied an incentive of valor to many who were young and strong. What God is so great as our God? All that multitude, who were so sure of victory that they brought chains with them rather than swords, were overthrown in a moment, and at once the city was taken and occupied, and the enemy without vanquished; everywhere were blood and death and heaps of slain; their number impedes their flight, and they fall by those very means on which they had counted for triumph. The battle is now fought hand to hand; the bows are snapped asunder; the arrows no longer fly, and they have scarcely room to wield their swords. Thus everything is thrown into confusion by the multitude, and what our enemies intended for our ruin turns out to our greater glory; the flying war, which had been waged among brambles and the gorges of rocks, is now carried on in a fair and open field; the Christians satiate their fury, which had so often been put forth in vain. The Turks experience, against their will, how well their enemies can fight hand to hand whom they had so often provoked at a distance. This splendid victory was not granted unworthily by the Divine excellence to His faithful servants; for they observed chastity in the camp and discipline when under arms; in all, and above all, was the fear of the Lord; with all was the love of their neighbor; all were united in brotherly affection as they were also companions in danger....
The victorious army now enters the Armenian territories; all rejoice at having quitted a hostile kingdom, and at their arrival in the country of the faithful. But, alas! a more fatal land awaits them, which is to extinguish the light and joy of all. On the borders of Armenia there was a place, surrounded on one side by steep mountains, on the other side by the river Selesius. Whilst the sumpter-horses and baggage were passing this river the victorious emperor halted. He was indeed an illustrious man, of stature moderately tall, with red hair and beard; his hair was partly turning gray, his eyelids were prominent and his eyes sparkling; his cheeks short and wide; his breast and shoulders broad; in all other respects his form was manly. There was in him, as is read of Socrates, something distinguished and awful; for his look denoted the firmness of his mind, being always immovably the same, neither clouded by grief, nor contracted by anger, nor relaxed by joy.
He so much reverenced the native language of Germany that although he was not ignorant of other languages yet he always conversed with ambassadors from foreign countries by means of an interpreter.
This great man having halted some time, in consequence of the sumpter-horses crossing the river, became at last impatient of delay, and wishing to accelerate the march he prepares to cross the nearest part of the stream, so as to get in front of the sumpter-horses and be at liberty to proceed.[9] O sea! O earth! O heaven! The ruler of the Roman empire, ever august, in whom the glory of ancient Rome again flourished, its honor again lived, and its power was augmented, was overwhelmed in the waters and perished. If the mountains of Gilboa, where the brave ones of Israel were slain, deserved to be deprived of the dew and rain, what imprecations may we not deservedly utter upon this fatal river, which overthrew a main pillar of Christendom? There were some who said that the place had been marked by a fatality from ancient times, and that the nearest rock had long borne upon it these words inscribed, “Here the greatest of men shall perish.” The lamentable report of his death was spread around, and filled all with dismay. If we search all the traditions of history and the fictions of romance, concerning the sorrows of mothers, the sighs of brides, or the distresses of men in general, the present grief will be found to be without example, never before known in any age, and surpassing all tears and lamentations. There were many of the emperor’s domestics present, with some of his kinsmen and his son, but it was impossible to distinguish them amid the general lamentation, with which all and each lamented the loss of their father and their lord. This, however, was a consolation to all, and they all returned thanks for it to Divine Providence, that he had not died within the territories of the infidels.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: 1188.]
In the mean time Christ’s soldiers, who had been conveyed by sea to the succor of the Holy Land, were laying siege to Acre. That the order of the siege may be better understood, we will relate it from the beginning. Guy, King of Jerusalem, after he had been a year in captivity at Damascus, was released by Saladin, on the strict promise that he should abjure his kingdom, and, as soon as possible, go into exile beyond the sea. The clergy of the kingdom determine to release the king from the bond of his oath; both because what is done under compulsion deserves to be annulled, and because the bands of the faithful who were on their way would find in him a head and a leader. It was right, indeed, that art should overreach, and that the treachery of the tyrant should be deceived by its own example.... But God so ordered it that the counsel of Belial was brought to nought; for the tyrant was baffled in his hopes of retaining the kingdom, and the king was released by the sentence of the clergy from the enormity of his promise.... Thus, then, when numbers had flocked together to meet the king at Tripoli, the minds of all were inspired with bravery, so that they not only strove to keep what they had retained, but also to recover what they had lost.
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[Sidenote: 1189.]
After a while the king assembled his army and proceeded to Tyre; but, demanding admittance, was refused by the marquis, though the city had been committed to his custody on the condition that it should be restored to the king and the heirs of the kingdom. Not content with this injury he adds insult to the breach of faith, for whenever the king’s messenger, or any of the pilgrims, endeavored to enter the town, they were treated harshly, and were in his sight no better than Gentiles and publicans. But the Pisans, who possessed no small part of the city, would not be induced to consent to his perfidy, but with commendable rebellion stood up for the king’s rights. The marquis directed not only insults but civil war against them, and they, prudently withdrawing for a time, retired with others from the city to the army. The troops had pitched their camp in an open plain, but none of them were allowed to enter the city, even to buy provisions, and they all found an enemy where they had hoped to find an ally. Whilst these events were going on the marquis was afflicted by a complaint to which he had long been subject; but, as it chanced to assail him this time with greater violence than usual, he conjectured that he had taken poison. Upon this he issued a harsh edict against physicians who make potions; innocent men were put to death on false suspicions, and those whose province it was to heal others now found the practice of their art lead to their own destruction. The king was urged by many to attack the city, but he prudently dissembled his own wrong, and hastily marched with all the army he could collect to besiege the town of Acre.
There were seven hundred knights, and others more numerous still, collected out of all Christendom; but if we were to estimate the whole army, its strength did not amount altogether to nine thousand men. At the end of August, on St. Augustin’s day, two years after the city had been taken, they bravely commenced that long and difficult siege, which was protracted during two years longer before the city surrendered. The Turks, from the battlements of the walls, beheld the army approach, but without knowing who they were, or for what they came. When they learnt the truth they feared not their approach, and treated their intentions with derision. The men of Pisa, who chose to proceed by sea, as shorter and easier, approached Acre in due order in their ships and bravely occupied the shore; where they had no sooner secured a station than they formed the siege on the side towards the sea with equal courage and perseverance. The king, with the rest of his army, fixed his tents on a neighboring hill, commonly called Mount Turon, from which, by the eminence of the ground, he overlooked the approach both by sea and land. This hill was higher on the eastern side of the city; and, as it allowed the eye to rove freely round, it gave a prospect over the plain on all sides, far and wide. On the third day after their arrival the Christians made an assault upon the town; and deeming it tedious to await the effect of engines for throwing stones, together with other machines, they trusted to the defence of their shields alone, and carried scaling-ladders to mount the walls. That day would have put a happy termination to the toil of so many days, if the malice of the ancient enemy and the arrival of false information had not frustrated their achievement when it was almost completed, for it was reported that Saladin was at hand, and our men returned with speed to the camp, but when they perceived that it was only a small body that had come in advance they expressed indignation rather than complaint that the victory had been snatched from them. They were, indeed, few that had come, but fear had reported that an innumerable multitude was at hand; for it is not unusual that things should be magnified through terror.
The sultan, at this time, was besieging the castle of Belfort, and when he heard what was going on he marched in haste with a large army to Acre. Our men, unequal to cope with him, kept themselves within the limits before described. The Turks assailed them perseveringly, both morning and evening, trying every means to penetrate to the hill-top; and thus those who came to besiege others were now besieged themselves. In this position, then, were our men when the Morning Star visited them from on high; for, behold! fifty ships, such as are commonly called coggs, having twelve thousand armed men on board, are seen approaching,--a grateful sight to our men on account of the strait which they were in. Grateful is that which comes when prayed for, more grateful still is that which comes contrary to our hope, but grateful beyond all is that which comes to aid us in the last necessity; yet ofttimes we suspend our belief concerning a thing we so much long for, and cannot credit what we so much desire. Our army, from the top of the hill, see the reinforcements coming, and dare not hope for an event so joyful, and the new comers, also, look upon the camp as an object of suspicion. When, however, they came nearer and saw the ensigns of the Christian faith, a shout is raised on both sides; their joyful feelings find vent in tears; they eagerly flock together and leap into the waves to go and meet them. O happy fleet, which, sailing from the Northern Ocean, and encountering a voyage never before tried, passed over so many seas, so many coasts, so many dangers, and came from Europe, along the shores of Africa, to succor Asia in her distress! The crews of these ships were Danes and Frisons, men inured to labor by the rigors of the north, and having three qualities good in war,--large limbs, invincible minds, and devout fervor for the faith.... To Acre, then, they came; and, having pitched their camp between the city and Mount Turon, they turned their invincible prowess to the destruction of the enemy, whom they assailed, not by frequent skirmishes, but by one continued conflict; for their prodigal valor and reckless fury exposed them to so many dangers that afterwards, when the city was taken, hardly a hundred men remained alive out of the twelve thousand.
* * * * *
At a season of calm, when Easter was close at hand, the marquis at our request returned from Tyre, with a large equipment and supplies of men, arms, and provisions. For by the provident care of the chiefs, the king and marquis were pacified on the pretext that the marquis should have possession of Tyre, Berytus, and Sidon, and on condition that he should be faithful and strenuous for the interests of the king and his kingdom.
* * * * *
At length the towns-people liked not their privation of liberty, and determined to try the issue of a sea-fight. They, therefore, led forth their galleys by twos, and keeping good order they rowed into the offing to meet and attack those that were coming; our men prepared to meet them as they came on, and since there was no means of getting away, prepared to face them with greater resolution. On the other hand our men got on board our war-ships, and straining to the left by an oblique course, retreated to a distance and gave the enemy free means of egress. The sea was perfectly tranquil and calm, as if it favored the battle, and the rippling wave impeded neither the shock of the attacking ship nor the stroke of the oars. As they closed, the trumpets sounded on both sides. A terrific clang is roused, and the battle is commenced by the throwing of missiles. Our men implore the Divine assistance and ply their oars strenuously, and dash at the enemy’s ships with their beaks. Soon the battle began; the oars become entangled and they fight hand to hand, having grappled each others’ ships together, and they fire the decks with burning oil, which is vulgarly called Greek fire. That kind of fire, with a detestable stench and livid flames, consumes both flint and steel; it cannot be extinguished by water, but is subdued by the sprinkling of sand, and put out by pouring vinegar on it. But what can be more dreadful than a fight at sea? what more savage where such various fates await the combatants? Some are tortured by the burning flames; some, falling overboard, are swallowed by the waves; others, wounded, perish by the enemy’s weapons. One galley, unskilfully managed by our men, exposed its flank to the foe; and being set on fire received the Turks as they boarded her on all sides. The rowers in their fright fell into the sea; but a few soldiers, impeded by their heavy armor, and restrained by ignorance of swimming, took courage from desperation, and commenced an unequal fight; and trusting in the Lord’s valor, a few of them overcame numbers; and having slain the foe, they brought back the half-burnt vessel in triumph. Another ship was boarded by the enemy, who had driven the combatants from the upper deck, while those who were below strove to escape by the help of their oars. Wondrous and terrible was the conflict; for, the oars being pulled different ways, the galley was drawn first one way, then the other, as the Turks drove it; yet our men prevailed, and the enemy, who rowed on the upper deck, being overcome and thrust down by the Christians, yielded. In this naval contest the enemy lost both the galley and a galleon, together with their crews; and our men, unhurt and joyful, gained a glorious triumph.
Having drawn the captured galley on shore, they gave it up to be plundered by both sexes, who came to meet them. On this, our women, dragging the Turks by the hair, after treating them shamefully, beheaded them.... A like sea-fight was never seen,--so destructive in its issue, accomplished with so much danger, and completed with so much cost. In the mean time the Turkish army from without, though deeply bewailing our victory, persisted in making attacks upon our men who were within the trench, endeavoring either to fill up the completed portion, by casting back the earth, or to slay those who resisted. Our men sustaining their attack, though with difficulty, fight under great disadvantages, for they seemed unequal to contend against so countless a multitude,--for the numbers of the assailants continually increased, and we had to take precautions on the side of the city lest they also should rush in and assault us. There was amongst the assailants a fiendish race, very impetuous and obstinate; deformed in nature, as they were unlike to the others in character; of a darker appearance, of vast stature, of exceeding ferocity, having on their heads red coverings instead of helmets; carrying in their hands clubs bristling with iron teeth, which neither helmet nor coat of mail could withstand; and they had a carved image of Mahomet for a standard. So great was the multitude of this evil race, that as fast as one party was thrown to the earth, another rushed forward over them. Thus, by their constant attacks, they confounded our men so much that we doubted which way to turn ourselves; for as there was neither security nor rest, we were distressed on all sides; at one time guarding ourselves from sallies of the besieged from the city, at another from the incessant attacks of the enemy from without; and again from the side of the sea, where their galleys were lying in wait to convey the Turks into the city as they arrived, or to intercept the succors which were coming to us, the Christians. At length, by favor of the Divine mercy, our adversaries were driven back and repulsed.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, according to the various events of war, as has been said, success changing from one side to the other, there occurred manifold incidents, not less wonderful than to be wondered at, which seem worthy of our notice.... Amongst those who were carrying earth to make a mound in the ditch for assaulting the town more easily was a woman who labored with great diligence and earnestness, and went to and fro unceasingly, and encouraged others unremittingly, in order that the work might be accomplished; but her zeal put an end to her life and labors; for while a crowd of all sexes and ages were constantly coming and going to complete the work in question, and while the aforesaid woman was occupied in depositing what she had brought, a Turk, who had been lying in wait for her, struck her a mortal blow with a dart. As she fell to the ground, writhing with the violence of her pain, she entreated her husband and many others who had come up to assist her, with tears in her eyes, and very urgently, saying, “By your love for me, my dearest lord, by your piety as my husband, and the faith of our marriage contracted of old, permit not my corpse to be removed from this place but I pray and beseech you, that since I can do nothing more towards the fulfilment of the work, I may deem myself to have done some good, if you will allow my lifeless body to be laid in the trench instead of earth, for it will soon be earth.” Oh, zeal of woman, worthy of imitation! for she ceased not, even dead, to help those who labored, and in her death continued to show her zeal in the cause!
There were two friends, comrades in misfortune as well as in war, so needy and distressed that the two possessed only one piece of money, commonly called an angevin, and with that only they wished to purchase something to eat; but what could they do? It was a mere trifle, and worth little, even if there had been abundance of all sorts of good things; and they had nothing else but their armor and clothing. They considered for a long time very thoughtfully what they should buy with that one little piece, and how it could be done to ward off the pressing evil of the day. They at last came to the resolution of buying some beans, since nothing was to be bought of less value; with difficulty, therefore, they obtained, after much entreaty, thirteen beans for their dinner, one of which, on returning home, they found consumed by maggots, and therefore unfit for eating. Upon this, by mutual agreement, they went a long distance in search of the seller, who consented, not without difficulty and after much supplication, to give them a whole bean in exchange.
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On the Saturday before the festival of the blessed apostle Barnabas, in the Pentecost week, King Richard[10] landed at Acre with his retinue, and the earth was shaken by the acclamations of the exulting Christians. The people testified their joy by shouts of welcome and the clang of trumpets. The day was kept as a jubilee, and universal gladness reigned around, on account of the arrival of the king, long wished for by all nations. The Turks, on the other hand, were terrified and cast down by his coming; for they perceived that all egress and return would be at an end, in consequence of the multitude of the king’s galleys. The two kings conducted each other from the port, and paid one another the most obsequious attention. Then King Richard retired to the tent prepared for him, and forthwith entered into arrangements about the siege; for it was his most anxious care to find out by what means, artifice, and machines they could capture the city without loss of time.
No pen can sufficiently describe the joy of the people on the king’s arrival, nor tongue detail it. The very calmness of the night was thought to smile upon them with a purer air; the trumpets clanged, horns sounded, and the shrill intonations of the pipe, and the deeper notes of the timbrel and harp, struck upon the ear; and soothing symphonies were heard, like various notes blended into one; and there was not a man who did not, after his own fashion, indulge in joy and praise,--either singing popular ballads to testify the gladness of his heart, or reciting the deeds of the ancients, stimulating by their example the spirit of the moderns. Some drank wine, from costly cups, to the health of the singers, while others, mixing together, high and low, passed the night in constant dances. And their joy was heightened by the taking of Cyprus by King Richard,--a place so useful and necessary to him, and one which would be of the utmost service to the army. As a further proof of the exultation of their hearts, and to illume the darkness of the night, wax torches and flaming lights sparkled in profusion, so that night seemed to be usurped by the brightness of day, and the Turks thought the whole valley was on fire.
By the conjunction of the retinue of two kings an immense army of Christians was formed. With the King of France, who had arrived on the octaves of Easter, there came the Count of Flanders, the Count of St. Paul, William de Garlande, William des Barres, Drogo d’Amiens, William de Mirle, and the Count of Perche; and with them also came the marquis, of whom we have before spoken, and who aspired to be King of Jerusalem. But why should we enumerate them singly? There was not a man of influence or renown in France who came not, then or afterwards, to the siege of Acre; and on the following day of Pentecost, King Richard arrived with an army, the flower of war, and upon learning that the King of France had gained the good-will and favor of all by giving to each of his soldiers three _aurei_ a month, not to be outdone or equalled in generosity, he proclaimed by mouth of herald, that whosoever was in his service, no matter of what nation, should receive four statute _aurei_ a month for his pay. By these means his generosity was extolled by all, for he outshone every one else in merit and favors, as he outdid them in gifts and magnificence. “When,” exclaimed they, “will the first attack take place by a man whom we have expected so long and anxiously,--a man, by far the first of kings, and the most skilled in war throughout Christendom? Now let the will of God be done, for the hope of all rests on King Richard!”
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The King of France first recovered from his sickness and turned his attention to the construction of machines and petrariæ, suitable for attacks, and which he determined to ply night and day, and he had one of superior quality, to which they gave the name of “Bad Neighbor.” The Turks also had one they called “Bad Kinsman,” which by its violent casts often broke “Bad Neighbor” in pieces, but the King of France rebuilt it, until by constant blows he broke down part of the principal city wall, and shook the tower Maledictum. On one side, the petraria of the Duke of Burgundy plied; on the other, that of the Templars did severe execution; while that of the Hospitallers never ceased to cast terror among the Turks. Besides these, there was one petraria, erected at the common expense, which they were in the habit of calling the “petraria of God.” Near it there constantly preached a priest, a man of great probity, who collected money to restore it at their joint expense, and to hire persons to bring stones for casting. By means of this engine a part of the wall of the tower Maledictum was at length shaken down, for about two poles’ length. The Count of Flanders had a very choice petraria of large size, which after his death King Richard possessed; besides a smaller one, equally good. These two were plied incessantly, close by a gate the Turks used to frequent, until part of the tower was knocked down. In addition to these two, King Richard had constructed two others of choice material and workmanship, which would strike a place at an incalculable distance. He had also built one put together very compactly, which the people called “Berefred,” with steps to mount it, fitting most tightly to it; covered with raw hides and ropes, and having layers of most solid wood, not to be destroyed by any blows, nor open to injury from the pouring thereon of Greek fire, or any other material. He also prepared two mangonels, one of which was of such violence and rapidity that what it hurled reached the inner rows of the city market-place. These engines were plied day and night, and it is well known that a stone sent from one of them killed twelve men with its blow. The stone was afterwards carried to Saladin for inspection; and King Richard had brought it from Messina, which city he had taken. Such stones, and flinty pieces of the smoothest kind, nothing could withstand; but they either shattered in pieces the object they struck, or ground it to powder.
The city of Acre, from its strong position, and its being defended by the choicest men of the Turks, appeared difficult to be taken by assault. The French had hitherto spent their labor in vain in constructing machines and engines for breaking down the walls with the greatest care; for whatever they erected, at a great expense, the Turks destroyed with Greek fire or some devouring conflagration. Amongst other machines and engines which the King of France had erected for breaking down the walls, he had prepared one, with great labor, to be used for scaling it, which they called a “cat,” because like a cat it crept up and adhered to the wall. He had also another made of strong hurdle-twigs, put together most compactly, which they used to call a “cercleia,” and under its covering of hides the King of France used to sit, and employ himself in throwing darts from a sling; he would thus watch the approach of the Turks, above on the walls, by the battlements, and hit them unawares. But it happened one day that the French were eagerly pressing forward to apply their cat to the walls, when, behold! the Turks let down upon it a heap of the driest wood, and threw upon it a quantity of Greek fire, as well as upon the hurdle they had constructed with such toil, and then aimed a petraria in that direction, and all having forthwith caught fire, they broke them in pieces by the blows from their petraria. Upon this the King of France was enraged beyond measure, and began to curse all those who were under his command; and rated them shamefully for not exacting condign vengeance of the Saracens, who had done them such injuries. In the heat of his passion, and when the day was drawing in, he published an edict, by voice of herald, that an assault should be made upon the city on the morrow.... There happened a wonderful event, not to be passed over in silence. There was a man of renown for his tried valor and excellence, named Alberic Clements, who, when he saw the French toiling to very little purpose, exerted his strength in the vehemence of his ardor, exclaiming, “This day I will perish, or, if it please God, I will enter into the city of Acre.” With these words he boldly mounted the ladder; and as he reached the top of the wall the Turks fell on him from all sides and killed him. The French were on the point of following him, but were overwhelmed by the pressure of numbers which the ladder could not hold, and some were bruised to death, and others dragged out much injured. The Turks shouted with the greatest joy and applause when they saw the accident, for it was a very severe misfortune. They surrounded and overcame Alberic Clements, who was left alone on the top of the wall, and pierced him with innumerable wounds. He thus verified what he had before said,--that he would die a martyr if he was unable to render his friends assistance by entering Acre. The French were much discouraged by his loss, and ceasing the assault gave themselves up to lamentation and mourning on account of his death, for he was a man of rank and influence and great valor.
Not long after the French miners, by their perseverance, undermined the tower Maledictum, and supported it by placing beams of wood underneath. The Turks also, digging in the same direction, had reached the same part of the foundations; on which they entered into a mutual treaty of peace that the Turks should depart uninjured, and some of the Christians whom they held captive were, by agreement, in like manner set at liberty. On discovering this the Turks were very much chagrined, and stopped up the passages by which they had gone out.... What can we say of this race of unbelievers who thus defended their city? They must be admired for their valor in war, and were the honor of their whole nation, and had they been of the right faith they would not have had their superiors as men throughout the world. Yet they dreaded our men, not without reason, for they saw the choicest soldiers from the ranks of all Christendom come to destroy them; their walls in part broken down, in part shattered, the greater portion of their army mutilated, some killed, and others weakened by their wounds....
Meanwhile, the petrariæ of the Christians never ceased, day and night, to shake the walls, and when the Turks saw this they were smitten with wonder, astonishment, terror, and confusion; and many, yielding to their fears, threw themselves down from the walls by night, and without waiting for the promised aid, very many sought, with supplications, the sacrament of baptism and Christianity. There was little doubt, and with good reason as to their merits, that they presumptuously asked the boon more from the pressure of urgent fear than from any divine inspiration; but there are different steps by which men arrive at salvation.
Saladin, perceiving the danger of delay, at length determined to yield to the entreaties of the besieged; he was, moreover, persuaded by his admirals and satraps, and his influential courtiers, who had many friends and kinsmen amongst the besieged. The latter alleged also that he was bound to them by his promise made on the Mahometan law, that he would procure for them an honorable capitulation at the last moment, lest, perchance, made prisoners at discretion, they should be exterminated or put to an ignominious death, and thus the law of Mahomet, which had been strictly observed by their ancestors, be effaced by its dependence on him; and, nevertheless, very much would be derogated from his name and excellence if the worshippers of Mahomet should fall into the hands of the Christians. They also begged to remind Saladin of the fact that they, a chosen race of Turks, in obedience to his commands, had been cooped up in the city and withstood the siege for so long a time; they reminded him too that they had not seen their wives and children for three years, during which period the siege had lasted; and they said it would be better to surrender the city than that people of such merit should be destroyed. The princes persuading the sultan to this effect that their latter condition might not be worse than their former one, he assented to their making peace on the best terms they could, and they drew up a statement of what appeared to them the most proper terms of treaty. On the messengers bringing back the resolution of Saladin and his satraps the besieged were filled with great joy, and forthwith the principal men of the city went to the kings, and, through their interpreters, offered to surrender unconditionally the city of Acre, the Cross, and two hundred and fifty noble Christian captives; and when they perceived this did not satisfy them they offered two thousand noble Christian captives, and five hundred of inferior rank, whom Saladin would bring together from all parts of his kingdom, if they would let the Turks depart from their city, with their shirts only, leaving behind them their arms and property; and, as a ransom for themselves, they would give two hundred thousand Saracenic talents. As security for the performance of these conditions they offered to deliver up, as hostages, all the men of noble or high rank in the city. After the two kings had considered with the wisest of the chiefs the opinion of all was for accepting the offer and consenting to the conditions, that on taking the oath for security and subscribing the terms of peace they might quit the city without carrying anything with them, having first given up the hostages....
And when the day came that the Turks, so renowned for their courage and valor, most active in the exercise of war, and famous for their magnificence, appeared on the walls ready to leave the city, the Christians went forth to look at them, and were struck with admiration when they remembered the deeds they had done. They were also astonished at the cheerful countenances of those who were thus driven almost penniless from their city, their demeanor unchanged by adversity; and those who but now had been compelled by sheer necessity to own themselves conquered, and betake themselves to supplication, bore no marks of care, as they came forth, nor any signs of dejection at the loss of all they possessed--not even in the firmness of their countenances, for they seemed to be conquerors by their courageous bearing; but the form of superstitious idolatry and the miserable error of sinfulness threw a stain upon their warlike glories. At last, when all the Turks had departed, the Christians, with the two kings at their head, entered the city without opposition, through the open gates, with dances and joy and loud vociferations, glorifying God and giving Him thanks, because He had magnified His mercy to them, and had visited them, and redeemed His people.
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On the Wednesday before the feast of St. Mark the Evangelist, the king and his army set out to Gadida to protect the city, but found no one there, for the enemy had taken to flight when they heard of his coming. On their way back the king attacked a fierce boar, which, hearing the noise of the party passing by, had come out and stood in the way. The fierce animal, foaming at the mouth with rage, and with his shaggy hair bristling up, and his ears erect, seemed to be collecting all his strength and fury to receive or make an attack. He did not move from his place when the king shouted; nay, when the king made a circuit round him, he also turned himself in his astonishment round in a circle, and kept himself in the same place which he had first occupied. The king, now making use of his lance for a hunting spear, moved on to pierce him; and the boar, turning a little to one side, prepared to meet him. The animal was of enormous size and terrible aspect, and the lance which was boldly thrust against his broad breast broke in two, from not being strong enough to bear the force of both, as they were closing with each other. The boar, now rendered furious by his wound, rushed with all his might upon the king, who had not an inch of room, or a moment of time to turn away; so putting spurs to his horse he fairly leapt over the animal, unharmed, though the boar tore away the hinder trappings of his horse, but the activity of the latter frustrated the blow, and the part of the lance which was fixed in the animal’s breast prevented him from coming to closer quarters. They then made a simultaneous attack on each other, and the boar made a rapid movement, as if to close with the king; but he, brandishing his sword, smote him with it as he passed, and stunned him with the blow; then wheeled round his horse, and, cutting the boar’s sinews, he consigned the animal to the care of his huntsmen.
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It also happened ... that while the king was staying there (at Betnoble) they were much comforted by news which was brought to the king; for a devout man, the abbat of St. Elie, whose countenance bespoke holiness, with long beard and head of snow, came to the king and told him that a long time ago he had concealed a piece of the Holy Cross, in order to preserve it, until the Holy Land should be rescued from the infidels and restored entirely to its former state, and that he alone knew of this hidden treasure, and that he had often been pressed by Saladin, who had tried to make him discover the Cross by the most searching inquiries, but that he had always baffled his questioners by ambiguous replies, and deluded them with false statements; and that on account of his contumacy, Saladin had ordered him to be bound, but he persisted in asserting that he had lost the piece of the Cross during the taking of the City of Jerusalem, and had thus deluded him notwithstanding his anxiety to find it. The king, hearing this, set out immediately, with the abbat and a great number of people, to the place of which the abbat had spoken; and having taken up the piece of the Holy Cross with humble veneration, they returned to the army; and, together with the people, they kissed the Cross with much piety and contrition.
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In the mean time our men, having by God’s grace escaped destruction, the Turkish army returned to Saladin, who is said to have ridiculed them by asking where Melech Richard was, for they had promised to bring him a prisoner. “Which of you,” continued he, “first seized him, and where is he? why is he not produced?” To whom one of the Turks that came from the furthest countries of the earth, replied: “In truth, my lord, Melech Richard, about whom you ask, is not here; we have never heard since the beginning of the world that there ever was such a knight, so brave, and so experienced in arms. In every deed at arms he is ever foremost; in deeds he is without a rival, the first to advance, and the last to retreat; we did our best to seize him, but in vain, for no one can escape from his sword; his attack is dreadful; to engage with him is fatal, and his deeds are beyond human nature.”