BOOK VIII.

A.D. 1188-1192.

WHILST the crusade was being preached in Europe, Saladin was following

up the course of his victories. The battle of Tiberias and the taking

of Jerusalem had created so general a terror, that the inhabitants of

the Holy Land were persuaded it was useless to endeavour to resist the

army of the Saracens. Amid this consternation, one city alone defied

and checked all the united forces of the new conqueror of the East.

Saladin was exceedingly anxious for the conquest of Tyre, and had

twice collected both his fleets and his armies to attack it. But the

inhabitants had sworn to die rather than surrender to the Mussulmans;

which noble determination was the work of Conrad, who had recently

arrived in the city, and appeared to have been sent by Heaven to save

it.

Conrad, son of the marquis of Montferrat, bore a name renowned

throughout the West, and the fame of his exploits had preceded him into

Asia. In his earliest youth he had distinguished himself in the war of

the Holy See against the emperor of Germany. A passion for glory and a

love of adventure then led him to Constantinople, where he suppressed

a sedition which threatened the imperial throne, and killed the leader

of the rebels on the field of battle. The sister of Isaac Angelus and

the title of Cæsar were the reward of his courage and his services; but

his restless character would not allow him to enjoy his good fortune

long. Whilst surrounded by peaceful grandeur, he was roused by the

fame of the holy war, and, heedless of the tenderness of a bride,

or the gratitude of an emperor, he hastened into Palestine. Conrad

reached the coast of Phœnicia a few days after the battle of Tiberias.

At the moment of his arrival, the city of Tyre had named deputies

to demand a capitulation of Saladin; but his presence revived the

courage of the besieged, and changed the face of everything. He caused

himself to be made commander, he widened the ditches, and repaired the

fortifications; and the inhabitants of Tyre, attacked by sea and land,

becoming all at once invincible warriors under his orders, were able to

contend with the fleets and armies of the Saracens.

The old marquis of Montferrat, the father of Conrad, who had left his

peaceful states to visit the Holy Land, was present at the battle

of Tiberias. Made prisoner by the Mussulmans, he languished in the

prisons of Damascus, until his children might be able to deliver him or

purchase his liberty.

Saladin sent for him to his army, and promised the brave Conrad to

restore his father, and grant him rich possessions in Syria, if he

would open the gates of Tyre to him. He threatened at the same time

to place the old marquis before the front rank of the Saracens, and

expose him to all the arrows of the besieged. Conrad haughtily replied

that he despised the gifts of infidels, and that the life of his father

was less dear to him than the cause of the Christians. He added that

nothing should stop his exertions, and that if the Saracens were so

barbarous as to sacrifice an old man who had surrendered himself upon

the word of Saladin, he should take glory from being descended from a

martyr. After this reply the Saracens renewed their attacks, and the

Tyrians continued to defend themselves bravely. The Hospitallers, the

Templars, and the bravest of the warriors that were still in Palestine,

repaired to Tyre to take part in this glorious defence. Among the

Franks who distinguished themselves by their valour, no one was more

remarkable than a Spanish gentleman, known in history by the name of

_The Green Knight_. Alone, say the old chronicles, he repulsed and

dispersed whole battalions of the enemy; he fought several times in

single combat, always overcoming the most intrepid of the Mussulmans,

and creating in Saladin the strongest admiration for his courage and

his feats of arms.

The city did not contain a single citizen that was not an active

combatant; the children even were so many soldiers, and the women

animated the warriors by their presence and their applause. On board

the ships, under the walls, battles were continually fought; and the

Saracens, on all occasions, again met with the Christian heroes that

had so often inspired them with fear.

Saladin, despairing of taking Tyre, resolved to raise the siege, and

attack Tripoli; but was not more successful in this new enterprise.

William, king of Sicily, upon being informed of the disasters in

Palestine, sent assistance to the Christians. Admiral Margarit, whose

talents and victories had procured for him the surname of _King of the

Sea_ and the _New Neptune_, arrived on the coast of Syria with fifty

galleys, three hundred knights, and five hundred foot-soldiers. The

Sicilian warriors hastened to the defence of Tripoli, and, commanded by

the _Green Knight_, who had so eminently distinguished himself at the

siege of Tyre, forced Saladin to abandon his undertaking.

The city and country of Tripoli, since the death of Raymond, had

belonged to Bohemond, prince of Antioch. Saladin, exasperated by his

double disappointment, laid waste the banks of the Orontes, and forced

Bohemond to purchase a truce of eight months. The Mussulmans then took

possession of Tortosa and some castles built on the heights of Libanus.

The fortress of Carac, from which had issued the war so fatal to the

Christians, defended itself during a whole year against a Mussulman

army. The besieged, destitute of all succour, and a prey to every kind

of evil and privation, carried resignation and bravery to perfect

heroism. “Before they would surrender,” says the continuator of William

of Tyre, “they sold their wives and children to the Saracens, and there

remained not an animal in the castle of which they could make food.”

They were at length, however, forced to yield to Saladin; the sultan

granting them their lives and their liberty, and restoring to them

their wives and children, whom a barbarous heroism had condemned to

slavery.

Throughout his conquests, Saladin still kept Guy de Lusignan in chains;

but when he became master of Carac and the greater part of Palestine,

he at length set the unfortunate king of Jerusalem free, after having

made him swear upon the Gospel to renounce his kingdom for ever, and

to return to Europe. This promise, extorted by force, could not be

regarded as binding in a war in which fanaticism set at nought the

power of an oath, on the one side or the other. Saladin himself never

entertained an idea that Guy would keep his word; and if he consented

to liberate him, it was doubtless from the fear that a more able prince

would be chosen in his place, and from the hope that his presence would

bring discord among the Christians.

Guy was scarcely released from captivity, when he made his bishops

annul the oath he had taken, and sought earnestly for an opportunity

of reconstructing a throne upon which fortune had for a moment placed

him. He presented himself in vain before Tyre; that city had given

itself up to Conrad, and would not acknowledge as king a prince who had

not been able to defend his own states. The king of Jerusalem wandered

for a long time about his own kingdom, accompanied by a few faithful

attendants, and at length resolved to undertake some enterprise that

should draw attention, and unite under his banners the warriors who

flocked from all parts of Europe to the assistance of the Holy Land.

Guy laid siege to Ptolemaïs, which had surrendered to Saladin a few

days after the battle of Tiberias. This city, which historians call by

turns _Acca_, _Accon_, and Acre, was built at the western extremity

of a vast plain. The Mediterranean bathed its walls; it attracted, by

the commodiousness of its port, the navigators of Europe and Asia,

and deserved to reign over the seas with the city of Tyre, which was

situated not far from it. Deep ditches surrounded the walls on the land

side; and, at equal distances, formidable towers had been built, among

which was conspicuous _The Cursed Tower_, which dominated over the city

and the plain. A dyke, built of stone, closed the part towards the

south, terminated by a fortress, erected upon an isolated rock in the

midst of the waves.

The plain of Ptolemaïs is bounded on the north by Mount Saron, which

the Latins called _Scala Tyrorum_,—the ladders of the Tyrians; on the

east by the mountains of Galilee; and on the south by Mount Carmel,

which stretches into the sea. The plain is intersected towards the city

by two hills,—the _Turon_, or the Mountain of the Worshipper, and

the Mahameria, or the Hill of the Prophet. Several rivers or torrents

descend from Mount Saron or from the mountains of Galilee, and flow

impetuously into the sea at a short distance from Ptolemaïs. The most

considerable of these torrents is the Belus, which discharges itself

to the south of the city. In the rainy season it overflows its banks,

and forms around it marshes covered with rushes and reeds. The other

torrents, whose beds in summer present nothing but an arid sand,

overflow in winter like the Belus. During several months of the year a

great part of the plain of Ptolemaïs is under water; and when summer

comes to dry the long-flooded fields, the exhalations corrupt the air

and spread around the germs of epidemic diseases.

Nevertheless, the plains of Ptolemaïs were fertile and smiling: groves

and gardens covered the country near the city; some villages arose on

the declivities of the mountains, and houses of pleasure dotted the

hills. Religious and profane traditions had bestowed names upon several

spots in the neighbourhood. A little hill reminded travellers of the

tomb of Memnon; and upon Mount Carmel was pointed out the retreat of

Eli and Pythagoras. Such were the places that were soon to become the

theatre of a sanguinary war, and see assembled and fighting the armies

of Europe and Asia.

Guy de Lusignan had but nine thousand men when he laid siege to

Ptolemaïs; but the whole West was preparing to fly to the defence of

the Holy Land. The army of the Christians soon became of sufficient

magnitude to excite serious alarm among the Saracens. French, English,

and Flemish warriors preceded Philip and Richard, under the command of

Jacques d’Avesnes, one of the greatest captains of his time, and the

bishop of Beauvais, brother to the count of Dreux. The Genoese, the

Venetians, and the Pisans, with the greater part of the Crusaders from

the provinces of Italy, arrived in Palestine under the orders of the

archbishops of Pisa and Ravenna. The cries of alarm of the Christians

of the East had resounded even to the north of Europe, where young

warriors had taken up arms to combat the infidels. All the nations

of the West furnished Jerusalem with defenders, and eighty thousand

Crusaders attacked the ramparts of Ptolemaïs, whilst the powerful

monarchs who had placed themselves at the head of the crusade, were

still engaged in preparations for their departure.

Saladin, who had at first despised the Christians, now thought it

prudent to gather his powers together to oppose them. After assembling

his army at Damascus, he crossed Anti-Libanus, and the mountains of

Galilee, and encamped at a short distance from Ptolemaïs. He pitched

his tents and pavilions at the extremity of the plain, on the mountains

of Casan, from whence he could overlook all the sea-coast. On one side

his army extended from the river Belus, and on the other as far as

_Mahumeria_, or the _Hill of the Mosque_. The sultan occupied all the

elevated posts, and all the passages by which the Christians could pass

out from the spot upon which they were encamped. Thus the besiegers

were besieged, and the army before the walls of the city saw the

banners of the Mussulmans floating around it.

The Christians made their intrenchments, dug wide ditches,[324] and

raised towers at proper distances around their camp, in order to

repulse the attacks of Saladin or the garrison of Ptolemaïs. The

Mussulman army had scarcely pitched its tents when it presented itself

in battle array before the trenches of the Crusaders, and fought

with them several combats, in which victory was doubtful. In one of

these conflicts the sultan penetrated to the city, and after having

ascertained from the top of the towers the position of the Crusaders,

he joined the garrison in a sortie, and surprised, and drove them into

their camp. By entering into Ptolemaïs, Saladin revived the courage

of the inhabitants and troops; he arranged measures necessary for the

providing of supplies, he left them some of his chosen warriors, and

gave them for leaders the most intrepid of his emirs, Melchou, the

faithful companion of his victories, and Karacoush,[325] whose capacity

and bravery had been often tried during the conquest of Egypt. The

sultan then returned to his camp, prepared to combat afresh the army of

the Crusaders.

The roads of Galilee were covered with Mussulman soldiers coming from

Damascus; and as Saladin looked daily for the arrival of a fleet from

Egypt, which would make him master of the sea, he hoped soon to be

able to triumph over the Christians, and deliver Ptolemaïs. A few days

after the victory he had gained, a great number of vessels appeared

upon the sea, directing their course towards the land. Both armies

were filled with hope and joy, the Mussulmans believing them to be a

fleet from the ports of Damietta and Alexandria, whilst the Crusaders

confidently hoped them to be a Christian armament coming to their aid.

The standard of the cross was soon seen floating from the masts of the

vessels, which, whilst it excited the liveliest joy in the Christians,

equally depressed the Mussulmans. Two fleets from western ports entered

the Road of Ptolemaïs. The first bore the German Crusaders, commanded

by the duke of Gueldres and the landgrave of Thuringia, and the other

the warriors of Friesland and Denmark, who, after having fought the

Saracens in Spain, came to defend the kingdom of Jerusalem. Conrad,

marquis of Tyre, could not remain idle while this war was going on; he

armed vessels, raised troops, and united his forces with those of the

Christian army.

The arrival of the new reinforcements restored the ardour of

the Crusaders. The Christian knights, according to an Arabian

historian,[326] covered with their long cuirasses of steel, looked,

from a distance, like serpents spread over the plain; when they flew to

arms, they resembled birds of prey, and in the _mêlée_, they were as

indomitable lions. In a council, several emirs proposed to Saladin to

retire before an enemy as numerous, they said, as the sands of the sea,

more violent than tempests, and more impetuous than torrents.

The Christians, encouraged by the reinforcements that continued to

arrive daily, resolved to attack Saladin, and drive him beyond the

mountains. They marched out from their intrenchments, and drew up in

order of battle. Their army extended from the mouth of the Belus to the

hill of Turon. The Crusaders, full of zeal and ardour, were commanded

by many illustrious captains, among whom the grand master of the

Templars, the marquis of Tyre, the counts of Blois, Bar, and Clermont,

with de Brioude, and Guy and Gauche de Chatillon, were conspicuous.

The clergy even appeared in arms; the archbishops of Ravenna, Pisa,

Canterbury, Besançon, Nazareth, and Montréal; the bishops of Beauvais,

Salisbury, Cambrai, Ptolemaïs, and Bethlehem, assumed the helmet and

cuirass, and led warriors on to battle. The Christian army presented

so redoubtable an aspect, and appeared so full of confidence, that a

Christian knight cried out, in the height of his enthusiasm: “_Let God

remain neuter, and the victory is ours!_”

The king of Jerusalem, who caused the book of the Evangelists to be

borne before him, wrapped in a covering of silk, and supported by four

knights, commanded the right wing; he had under his orders the French

and the Hospitallers; his lines extended to the Belus. The Venetians,

the Lombards, and the Syrians formed the left wing, which was flanked

by the sea, and marched under the banners of Conrad. The centre of the

army was occupied by the Germans, the Pisans, and the English, headed

by the landgrave of Thuringia. The grand master of the Templars, with

his knights, and the duke of Gueldres, with his soldiers, formed the

body of reserve ready to hasten wherever danger or the chances of the

day might call them. The guardianship of the camp was intrusted to

Gerard d’Avesnes and Geoffrey de Lusignan.

When the Christian army was drawn up on the plain, the Saracens issued

from their intrenchments, and prepared to sustain the shock of the

Crusaders. Saladin placed himself with his Mamelukes in the centre; his

nephew Teki-eddin Omar, one of his most skilful lieutenants, commanded

the right wing, which extended to the sea at the north-east of

Ptolemaïs; the princes of Mossoul and Sandjar commanded the left wing,

bearing upon the river Belus. By this disposition, Saladin inclosed the

Christians between the river Belus and the sea, and left them no means

of retreat if fortune should favour his arms.

The archers and cavalry of the Christians commenced the conflict. At

the first charge they broke the right wing of the Mussulmans, commanded

by the nephew of Saladin. The cavalry and infantry of the marquis of

Tyre advanced upon the field of battle, the Saracens giving way before

them as they proceeded. Pursuing the enemy, who fled in disorder,

the Christians ascended the hill of the Mosque, and planted their

standards in the camp of the infidels. The count of Bar even penetrated

to the tent of the sultan, which was given up to pillage. An Arabian

historian,[327] who followed the army, says of himself, that upon

beholding the rout of the Mussulmans, he took to flight, and did not

stop till he came to Tiberias. The terror was so great, that several

Saracens fled as far as Damascus. Saladin remained almost alone upon

the field of battle, and was several times in great danger.[328]

Followed by a few of his faithful Mamelukes, he endeavoured to rally

his scattered forces, and at length succeeded in reviving their

courage. No sooner had he the means of support, than he returned to the

fight with characteristic energy, rushing down upon the Christians,

whom he surprised in all the disorder of victory. The Mussulman cavalry

now charged in their turn, and dispersed the cavalry of the Franks. The

different bodies of the Christian army became soon separated from one

another, and in vain endeavoured to rally in their flight. The grand

master of the Templars then advanced with the reserve, to support the

troops that fled, but he met the Mussulman cavalry in full career, that

crushed everything in their passage. The reserve was broken at the

first shock; they returned several times to the charge, but without

being able to stand against the impetuosity of the Saracen horsemen. On

all sides, victory was escaping from the hands of the Crusaders, terror

pervaded the whole Christian army, and disorder and confusion reigned

everywhere. Whilst the left wing was put to flight, and the body of

reserve was making vain efforts to check the Mussulmans, the right

wing and the centre were attacked not only by the princes of Aleppo,

Mossoul, and Sandjar, with Teki-eddin Omar, but by the garrison of

Ptolemaïs, which issued from the city in order of battle.

The Saracens made a most horrible slaughter; every part of the

Christian army was broken and put to flight, and utter destruction

threatened them if their camp should fall into the hands of the enemy.

The conquerors proceeded at once to the attack of the intrenchments,

but the height of the walls, the depth of the ditches, and the bravery

of Geoffrey de Lusignan and Jacques d’Avesnes,[329] stopped the

Mussulman cavalry, and preserved the last asylum of the Christian army.

During the contest, Saladin appears to have been everywhere at once:

after having re-established the battle in his right wing, he returned

to the centre, and thence passed to the left. Ten times he crossed

the lines of the Christians, and himself directed every charge of

his cavalry. The battle lasted during the whole day; in the evening,

still many combats were kept up around the camp of the Christians, and

night alone brought repose to the two armies. As the Mussulmans and

Christians had by turns been victors, the loss was equal on both sides.

The Crusaders had to deplore the death of several of their leaders; the

grand master of the Templars, covered with wounds, was made prisoner

on the field of battle, and led to the camp of the infidels. The emirs

reproached him with having taken up arms against Saladin, who had

generously broken his chains after the battle of Tiberias. He replied

with haughty firmness, and received the palm of martyrdom. André de

Brienne was cast from his horse whilst endeavouring to rally the

Crusaders. He in vain implored assistance of his companions, whom fear

rendered deaf to pity, and Erard de Brienne, whilst precipitating his

flight, trampled under his horse’s feet his brother, expiring on the

field of battle.

The Latin historians attribute the defeat of the Crusaders to

an unexpected accident,[330] which threw the combatants into

disorder.[331] An Arabian horse, which had been taken from the enemy,

escaping in the heat of the battle, was pursued by some soldiers, and

it was believed they were flying before the Saracens. All at once a

rumour prevailed that the Christian army was conquered and dispersed,

and the news redoubled the tumult, and gave birth to general terror.

Whole battalions, seized with a panic, abandoned their triumphant

banners, and sought safety in a precipitate flight.

We only report this singular circumstance to show the spirit of the

contemporary chronicles. The fate of the battle might be much better

explained by saying that the Christian soldiers abandoned the fight for

the sake of plunder; and that the greater part of the leaders, less

skilful than brave, neither knew how to prevent or repair the reverses

to which an undisciplined army must be exposed.

In the plain of Ptolemaïs, trod by two hundred thousand warriors, on

the morrow was only to be seen, to employ an Oriental image, birds

of prey and wolves attracted by the scent of carnage and death. The

Christians did not dare to leave their intrenchments, and victory

itself could not reassure Saladin, who had seen his whole army put

to flight. The most frightful disorder prevailed in the camp of the

Saracens; the slaves had pillaged it at the commencement of the battle,

and had fled, carrying away the booty that escaped the hands of the

Crusaders. Both the emirs and soldiers had lost their baggage; some

pursued the fugitive slaves, whilst others addressed their complaints

to Saladin. Amidst such confusion and tumult, it was impossible for

the sultan to follow up the advantage he had gained, and as winter was

approaching, and the Mussulmans were short of provisions, he abandoned

the plain, and retired to the mountain Karouba.

The Christians, who now remained masters of the plain, extended their

lines over the whole chain of hills that surrounded the city of

Ptolemaïs; the marquis of Montferrat, with his troops, the Venetians,

the Pisans, and the Crusaders commanded by the archbishop of Ravenna

and the bishop of Pisa, encamped towards the north, and occupied

ground from the sea to the road to Damascus. Near the camp of Conrad,

the Hospitallers pitched their tents, in a valley which had belonged

to them before the taking of Ptolemaïs by the Saracens. The Genoese

occupied the hill which contemporary historians call Mount Musard. The

French and English, who were in front of the Cursed Tower, were placed

in the centre, under the orders of the counts of Dreux, Blois, and

Clermont, and the archbishops of Besançon and Canterbury. Close to the

camp of the French floated the banners of the Flemings, commanded by

the bishop of Cambrai, and Raymond II., viscount de Turenne.

Guy de Lusignan encamped with his soldiers and knights upon the hill of

Turon, which part of the camp served as citadel and head-quarters to

the whole army. The king of Jerusalem had with him the queen Sibylla,

his two brothers Geoffrey and Aimar, Humphrey de Theron, the husband

of the second daughter of Amaury, the patriarch Heraclius, and the

clergy of the holy city. The viscount de Chatellerault, who was of the

same country as Guy de Lusignan, ranged himself under the standard of

the king of Jerusalem. The knights of the Temple, and the troop of

Jacques d’Avesnes, fixed their quarters between the hill of Turon and

the Belus, and guarded the road that led from Ptolemaïs to Jerusalem.

On the south of the Belus stood the tents of the Germans, the Danes,

and the Frisons: these northern warriors, commanded by the landgrave of

Thuringia and the duke of Gueldres, were placed along the shore of the

Road of Ptolemaïs, and protected the disembarkation of the Christians

who arrived from Europe by sea.

Such was the disposition of the Christian army before Ptolemaïs, and

this order was preserved during the whole siege. The Christians dug

ditches on the declivities of the hills whose heights they occupied;

they raised high walls round their quarters, and their camps were so

inclosed, says an Arabian historian, that the birds could scarcely find

entrance. All the torrents which fell from the neighbouring mountains

overflowed their banks, and covered the plain with their waters; and

the Crusaders, having nothing to fear from surprise by the army of

Saladin, prosecuted the siege without intermission. Their machines

battered the walls night and day, and with each morning their assaults

were renewed. The garrison, which opposed them with obstinate bravery,

could not much longer defend itself without the aid of the Mussulman

army. Every day pigeons bearing letters under their wings, and divers,

who threw themselves into the sea, were sent to warn Saladin of the

imminent dangers of Ptolemaïs.

At the approach of spring, several Mussulman princes of Mesopotamia and

Syria came to range themselves and their troops under the standards

of the sultan. Then Saladin quitted the mountain of Karouba, and his

army descending towards the plain of Ptolemaïs, defiled in sight of

the Christians, with colours spread and drums and trumpets sounding.

The Crusaders had soon fresh contests to maintain. The ditches they

had dug, to employ the expression of a Mussulman historian, became

their own sepulchres, and were often filled with their dead bodies. The

hopes they had fondly entertained of getting possession of the city,

vanished at the sight of such formidable enemies. They had constructed

during the winter three rolling towers, similar to those which Godfrey

of Bouillon had erected at the taking of Jerusalem. These three towers

arose above the walls of Ptolemaïs, and threatened the city with

destruction. Whilst the Crusaders were engaged in repelling the attacks

of Saladin, inflamed arrows and pots filled with burning naphtha were

hurled on their machines, that were left unprotected at the foot of the

ramparts. All at once the Christians saw flames arise in the air, and

their wooden towers, seized upon by an unextinguishable fire, were

consumed and reduced to ashes before their eyes, as if they had been

struck by the lightning of heaven. So great was the terror spread among

the Crusaders by this conflagration, that the landgrave of Thuringia

quitted the siege and returned to Europe, believing that God no longer

protected the cause of the Christians.

Saladin followed up his attacks so incessantly, that he left his enemy

no repose. Every time that an assault was attempted on the city, the

noise of drums and trumpets resounded from the ramparts to warn the

Mussulman troops, who then flew to arms and attacked the camp of the

Christians.

The Road of Ptolemaïs was often covered with vessels from Europe,

and Mussulman vessels from the ports of Egypt and Syria. The latter

brought supplies to the city, and the former to the Christian army.

At a distance might be seen masts surmounted with the standards of

the cross, and others bearing the banners of Mahomet, which seemed to

mingle and float together. Several times the Franks and Saracens were

spectators of the conflicts between their fleets laden with arms and

provisions, that took place near the shore. At the sight of a naval

combat the warriors of the cross and of Mahomet struck upon their

shields, and announced by their cries their hopes and their fears.

Sometimes even the two armies were so excited as to attack each other

on the plain to assure the victory, or avenge the defeat of those who

had fought upon the waves.

In the battles that took place sometimes on the banks of the Belus, and

sometimes under the walls or at the foot of the hills, the Saracens

often prepared ambushes, and did not disdain to have recourse to all

the stratagems of war. The Christians, on the contrary, placed no

confidence in anything but their valour and their own good swords. A

car, upon which was raised a tower, surmounted by a cross and a white

flag, served them as a rallying-point, and was their guiding star in

battle. When the enemy gave way, the thirst for booty soon made every

man quit the ranks; their chiefs, almost always without authority

in the tumult of battle, became no more than simple soldiers in the

_mêlée_, and had nothing to oppose to the enemy but their sword and

lance. Saladin, more respected by his troops, commanded a disciplined

army, and often profited by the disorder and confusion of the

Christians to combat them with advantage and snatch a victory. Every

battle began at sunrise, and the Christians were generally conquerors

up to the middle of the day; but when even they had invaded and partly

plundered the camp of the Mussulmans, and at evening returned home

loaded with booty, they were almost sure to find their own camp had

been broken into by the troops of Saladin or the garrison.

After the sultan’s descent from the mountain of Karouba, an Egyptian

fleet entered the port of Ptolemaïs. At the same time Saladin welcomed

to his camp his brother Malec-Adel, who brought with him troops

raised in Egypt. This double reinforcement revived the courage of

the Mussulmans, but they did not long profit by these advantages,

and the hope of conquering the Christians began to give way to the

most serious alarms. A report was spread throughout the East that the

emperor of Germany had quitted Europe at the head of a numerous army,

and was advancing towards Syria. Saladin sent troops to meet such a

formidable enemy, and several Mussulman princes quitted the sultan’s

army to defend their own states, which were menaced by the Crusaders

coming from the West. Ambassadors were sent to the caliph of Bagdad,

the princes of Africa and Asia, and to the Mussulman powers of Spain,

to engage them to unite their efforts against the enemies of Islamism.

Whilst terror thus took possession of the Saracens, the Crusaders

conceived fresh hopes, and redoubled their efforts to gain possession

of Ptolemaïs before the arrival of the Germans. After several contests,

they resolved to make one last attempt to drive the Mussulman army

beyond the mountains. Marching from their camp, they presented

themselves in order of battle before the Saracens. The Mussulman

historians compare their multitude to that which will assemble at the

last day in the valley of Jehoshaphat.

At the first signal, the two armies approached, mingled, and soon

appeared nothing but one horrible, contending mass. Arrows hissed

through the air, lances crossed, and the rapid blows of sabres and

swords resounded from the bucklers and steel casques. The Christian

knights seemed animated with an invincible ardour. The Templars and

Hospitallers carried death wherever they directed their course; Syrians

and Franks, foot-soldiers and horsemen, contended for the prize of

valour, and rushed together to meet peril and find victory or death.

The Mussulman army could not resist their impetuosity, and at the first

charge retired in disorder. The plains and hills were covered with

Saracen warriors, who fled, throwing away their arms. Victory remained

with the Christians; but soon the thirst of booty led them to abandon

their ranks, and the face of the battle was changed. The Mussulmans

had time to rally, and returned to surprise the conquerors, who were

pillaging the tent and camp of the sultan. All at once the Christians

were surrounded on every side; and having laid down their arms in their

eagerness for booty, could not defend themselves, but were seized by

a terror like that with which they had inspired their enemies. The

Mussulmans, irritated by their defeat, immolated to their vengeance

every Christian that fell in their way. Such of the Crusaders as were

most greedy of plunder, lost their lives, together with the spoils with

which they were loaded, and were slaughtered without defence in the

very tents they had invaded. “The enemies of God,” says Bohaheddin,

“dared to enter into the camp of the lions of Islamism; but they

experienced the terrible effects of divine wrath. They fell beneath the

sword of the Mussulmans as leaves fall in autumn, under the gusts of

the tempest. The earth was covered with their bodies, heaped one upon

another, like lopped branches which fill the valleys and hills in a

forest that has been cut down.” Another Arabian historian speaks thus

of this bloody battle: “The Christians fell under the swords of the

conquerors, as the wicked will fall into the abode of fire at the last

day. Nine ranks of dead covered the ground between the hill and the

sea, and each rank was of a thousand warriors.”

Whilst the Christians were being conquered and dispersed, the garrison

of Ptolemaïs made a sortie; and, penetrating into their camp, carried

off a great number of women and children that were left without

defence. The Crusaders, whom night saved from destruction, returned to

their camp, deploring their double defeat. The sight of their plundered

tents and the losses they had experienced, quite depressed their

courage; and the death of Frederick Barbarossa, with the disasters of

the German army, of which they were soon informed, appeared to fill

up their cup of wretchedness. The despair of the leaders was so great

that they determined to return to Europe, and, in order to secure their

departure, were seeking to obtain a disgraceful peace of Saladin, when

a fleet arrived in the Road of Ptolemaïs, and landed a great number of

French, English, and Italians, commanded by Henry, count of Champagne.

Once more hope was restored to the Crusaders; the Christians were again

masters of the sea, and might, in their turn, make Saladin tremble,

who had believed he had nothing more to dread from them. They renewed

their attacks upon the city with spirit. The count of Champagne, who

had restored abundance to the camp, caused to be constructed, at

great expense, rams of a prodigious size, with two enormous towers

composed of wood, steel, iron, and brass. These machines are said to

have cost fifteen hundred pieces of gold. Whilst these formidable

auxiliaries menaced the ramparts, the Christians mounted several times

to the assault, and were, more than once, on the point of planting the

standard of the cross on the walls of the infidels.

But the besieged continued to repulse them, and the Mussulmans shut up

in the city supported the horrors of a long siege with heroic firmness.

The emirs Karacoush and Melchoub were unremitting in their endeavours

to keep up the courage of their soldiers. Vigilant, present everywhere,

sometimes employing force, and as often stratagem, they allowed no

opportunity of surprising the Christians to escape, or to render

their attacks abortive. The Mussulmans burnt all the machines of the

besiegers, and made several sorties, in which they drove the Christians

to the security of their camp.

The garrison received daily reinforcements and provisions by sea;

sometimes barks stole along the shore, and got into Ptolemaïs under

the favour of night; at others, vessels from Berytus, manned by

apostate Christians, hoisted the white flag with a red cross, and thus

deceived the vigilance of the besiegers. The Crusaders, to prevent all

communication by sea, resolved to get possession of the Tower of the

Spies, which overlooked and dominated the port of Ptolemaïs. A vessel,

upon which was placed a wooden tower, advanced towards the fort they

wished to attack, whilst a bark filled with combustible matters, to

which fire had been set, was launched into the port among the Mussulman

fleet. Everything seemed to promise success to this attempt, when,

all at once, the wind changed, and drove the blazing fire-ship full

upon the wooden tower, which was rapidly consumed by the flames. The

duke of Austria, who commanded this perilous expedition, followed by

several of the bravest of his warriors, had mounted the tower of the

infidels sword in hand; but at the sight of the conflagration which was

devouring the vessel he came on, he cast himself into the sea, covered

with his own blood and that of the Saracens, and gained the shore

almost alone.

Whilst the duke of Austria attacked the tower, the army left their camp

to make an assault upon the city. The besiegers performed prodigies of

valour without success, and were obliged to return in haste to defend

their own tents, undergoing fire and pillage by the army of Saladin.

It was amidst this double defeat that Frederick, duke of Swabia,

arrived under the walls of Ptolemaïs with five thousand men, the

deplorable remains of a numerous army. When the Christians in Syria

had heard of the preparations of the Germans, their invincible powers

were the theme of every tongue, and the Crusaders before Ptolemaïs were

animated by the most sanguine expectations; but when they arrived,

and related the disasters they had undergone, their presence spread

mourning and depression throughout the army.

Frederick wished to signalize his arrival by an attack upon the

Saracens. “The Christians,” say the Arabian writers, “issued from their

camp like ants swarming to their prey, and covered the valleys and

hills.” They attacked the advanced post of the Mussulman army, encamped

upon the heights of Aiadhiat, not far from the mountains of Galilee.

Saladin, whom a serious illness prevented from mounting on horseback,

caused himself to be carried to Mount Karouba, from whence he could

overlook all that went on, and issue his orders. The Christians renewed

their attacks several times without producing any effect upon their

enemies; and after having fought the whole day, they renounced the

hope of a triumph, and returned to their camp, where the famine, which

was beginning to be severely felt, allowed them nothing wherewith to

recruit their exhausted strength.

Every leader of this multitude of Crusaders was obliged to feed the

troops that he commanded, and they at no time were possessed of more

than provisions for one week. When a Christian fleet arrived, they

enjoyed abundance; but when no vessels appeared for a time, they were

destitute of the commonest necessaries of life. As winter approached,

and the sea became more stormy, want was necessarily proportionately

increased.

When the Crusaders made incursions upon neighbouring lands to procure

provisions, they fought amidst the ambuscades of the Saracens.

Animated by despair, they several times attacked the enemy in their

intrenchments, but were always repulsed. At length famine began to

make frightful ravages in the Christian army; a measure of flour,

that weighed two hundred and fifty pounds, was sold for ninety-six

crowns, a sum so exorbitant that not even princes could pay it. The

leaders insisted upon fixing the prices of all provisions brought to

the camp; the venders then hid them in the earth, and the scarcity was

increased by the very measures adopted to lessen it.[332] The Crusaders

were obliged to feed upon their horses; next they devoured leather,

harness, and old skins, which were sold for their weight in gold. Many

Christians, driven from their camp by famine, took refuge in that of

Saladin; some embraced Islamism to obtain relief in their misery;

whilst others, going on board Mussulman vessels, and braving the

perils of the sea, went to pillage the isle of Cyprus and the coasts of

Syria.

During the rainy season the waters covered the plains, and the

Crusaders remained crowded together on the hills. The carcasses left

on the banks of the rivers, or cast into the torrents, exhaled a

pestilential odour, and contagious diseases were very soon added to

the horrors of famine. The camp was filled with mourning and funeral

rites; from two to three hundred pilgrims were buried daily. Several of

the most illustrious leaders found in contagion the death they had so

often braved in the field of battle. Frederick, duke of Swabia, died

in his tent, after having escaped all the perils of war. His unhappy

companions in arms gave tears to his memory, and, despairing of the

cause of the Christians, for which they had suffered so much, returned

to the West.

To complete their misfortune, Sibylla, the wife of Guy de Lusignan,

died, with her two children, and her death gave rise to fresh discord.

Isabella, second daughter of Amaury, and sister to Queen Sibylla, was

heir to the throne of Jerusalem; consequently Humphrey de Thoron, the

husband of this princess, immediately asserted her rights. On the other

side, Guy de Lusignan could not consent to abandon his, and maintained

that the character of king was indelible; no one had the right to

deprive him of a crown he had once worn. Amidst these disputes, Conrad,

already master of Tyre, was all at once seized with the ambition of

reigning over Jerusalem and Palestine; he succeeded in gaining the love

of Isabella, induced the council of bishops to dissolve the marriage of

Humphrey, and, although himself married to the sister of the Emperor

Isaac, espoused the sister and heiress of Baldwin, determined to defend

with the sword the rights which this new union gave him.

The Christians, though plunged in such horrible misery, and at the

same time constantly menaced by Saladin, were entirely engaged by the

pretensions of the two rival princes. Humphrey, who defended his rights

very weakly, was in great dread of the threats of Conrad, and was wise

enough not to regret a sceptre which he must win, or a wife who had

abandoned him. He renounced all his claims, and would have been happy

if his docility had restored unanimity; but there remained still two

kings for an invaded, or rather a nominal kingdom, and the two factions

divided the army. Some were touched by the misfortunes of Guy, and

declared themselves his partisans; whilst others, admiring the bravery

of Conrad, thought the kingdom should fall to him who was most capable

of defending it. Guy was reproached with having fostered the power of

Saladin; the marquis of Tyre, on the contrary, was praised for having

preserved the only two cities that remained in the power of the Franks:

he alone, they added, could furnish the Christians with provisions, and

put an end to the famine which was consuming them.

Not one of the Crusaders was ignorant of this quarrel. Dissension

spread from the leaders to the soldiers; they heaped abuse upon each

other, and were even ready to cut the throats of their comrades to

determine who should possess a broken sceptre and the vain title of

king. The bishops at length calmed the fury of these differences, and

persuaded the rivals to refer the matter to the judgment of Richard and

Philip.

These two princes, who had embarked at Genoa and Marseilles, met at

Messina. Sicily was then at war with Germany for the succession of

William II. Constance, the heir of William, had married the Emperor

Henry VI., and had charged him with the duty of proclaiming her

rights, and defending her inheritance; but Tancred, natural brother of

Constance, who had obtained the love of the nobility of Sicily, had

usurped the throne of his sister, and maintained himself upon it, by

force of arms, against the efforts of the Germans.

This prince, not firmly settled on his throne, was much alarmed at the

approach of the Crusaders. He feared in Philip an ally of the emperor

of Germany, and in Richard, the brother of Queen Jane, the widow of

William, whom he had ill-treated, and still detained in prison. Being

totally unable to contend with them, he attempted to conciliate them by

his submission and attentions: he at first succeeded with Philip beyond

his expectations, but had much more trouble in appeasing Richard,

who, immediately after his arrival, haughtily demanded the liberty of

Jane, and took possession of the two forts which commanded Messina.

The English soon got embroiled with the subjects of Tancred, and the

banners of England were seen floating over the capital itself. By this

act of violence and authority Richard gave great umbrage to Philip,

whose vassal he was. The king gave orders that Richard’s standards

should be removed; and the impetuous Cœur de Lion was forced to

comply, though trembling with rage. This submission, although it was

accompanied with menaces, seemed to appease Philip, and put an end to

the quarrel; but from that time Richard became friendly with Tancred,

who endeavoured to create suspicions of the loyalty of the king of

France, and to secure peace to himself, sowed dissension among the

Crusaders.

The two kings by turns accused each other of breach of faith and

perfidy, and the French and English took part in the hatred of their

monarchs. Among these divisions, Philip pressed Richard to espouse the

princess Alice, who had been promised to him in marriage; but the face

of circumstances had changed, and the king of England refused with

contempt a sister of the king of France, whom he had himself earnestly

sought, and for whom he had made war against his own father.

Eleanor of Guienne, who had only ceased to be queen of the French to

become their implacable enemy, had for a long time endeavoured to

dissuade Richard from this marriage. In order to complete her work,

and create an eternal division between the two kings, she brought with

her into Sicily, Berengaria, the daughter of Don Sancho of Navarre,

with the view of marrying her to the king of England. The report of

her arrival augmented the suspicions of Philip, and was a fresh source

of complaints on his part. War was upon the point of breaking out, but

some wise and pious men succeeded in soothing these angry spirits; the

two kings formed a new alliance bound by new oaths, and discord was for

a moment quelled. But a friendship which required to be sworn to so

often, and a peace which every day demanded a fresh treaty, were very

little to be relied on.

Richard, who had just been making war upon Christians, all at once

became a prey to repentance and penitence; he assembled the bishops

that had accompanied him in a chapel, presented himself before them

in his shirt, confessed his sins, and listened to their reproofs

with the docility of the humblest of the faithful. Some time after

this whimsical ceremony, his mind[333] being naturally inclined to

superstition, he took a fancy to hear Abbot Joachim, who lived in

retirement in the mountains of Calabria, and passed for a prophet.

In a voyage to Jerusalem, this solitary had, it was said, received from

Jesus Christ the faculty of explaining the Apocalypse, and to read in

it, as in a faithful history, all that was to take place on earth. On

the invitation of the king of England, he quitted his retreat, and

repaired to Messina, preceded by the fame of his visions and miracles.

The austerity of his morals, the singularity of his behaviour, with

the mystical obscurity of his discourses, at once procured him the

confidence and veneration of the Crusaders. He was questioned upon the

issue of the war they were about to make in Palestine; and he predicted

that Jerusalem would be delivered seven years after its conquest by

Saladin. “Why, then,” said Richard, “are we come so soon?” “Your

arrival,” replied Joachim, “is very necessary; God will give you the

victory over his enemies, and will render your name celebrated above

all the princes of the earth.”

This speech, which did not at all flatter the passions or impatience

of the Crusaders, could only minister to the self-love of Richard.

Philip was very little affected by a prediction which was afterwards

also falsified by the event; and was only the more anxious to encounter

Saladin, the redoubtable conqueror, in whom Joachim saw one of the

seven heads of the Apocalypse. As soon as spring rendered the sea

navigable, Philip embarked for Palestine. He was received there as an

angel of the Lord, and his presence reanimated the valour and hopes

of the Christians, who had during two years unsuccessfully besieged

Ptolemaïs. The French fixed their quarters within bow-shot of the

enemy, and, as soon as they had pitched their tents, proceeded to the

assault. They might have rendered themselves masters of the city; but

Philip, inspired by a chivalric spirit, rather than by a wise policy,

was desirous that Richard should be present at this first conquest.

This generous consideration proved fatal to the enterprises of the

Christians, and gave time to the Saracens to receive reinforcements.

Saladin had passed the winter on the mountain of Karouba, and fatigue,

frequent combats, want, and disease had greatly reduced his army. He

himself likewise was weakened by a complaint which the physicians could

not cure, and which, on many occasions, prevented him from accompanying

his warriors to the field of battle. When he heard of the arrival of

the two powerful Christian monarchs, he once more, by his ambassadors,

called upon the Mussulman nations for assistance. In all the mosques

prayers were put up for the triumph of his arms and the deliverance

of Islamism; and in every Mussulman city the Imauns exhorted the true

believers to hasten to the war.

“Numberless legions of Christians,” said they, “are come from countries

situated beyond Constantinople, to bear away from us conquests that

gave such joy to the Koran, and to dispute with us a land upon which

the companions of Omar planted the standard of the Prophet. Spare

neither your lives nor your treasures to oppose them. Your marches

against the infidels, your perils, your wounds, all, even to the

passage of the torrent, is written in the book of God. Thirst, hunger,

fatigue, death itself will become for you treasures in heaven, and will

open to you the gardens and delicious bowers of Paradise. In whatever

place you may be, death must overtake you; neither your mansions nor

your lofty towers can defend you against his darts. Some among you have

said, Let us not go to seek for battles during the heats of summer, or

the rigours of winter; but hell will be more terrible than the rigours

of winter or the heats of summer. Go, then, and bravely fight your

enemies in a war undertaken for religion. Victory or Paradise awaits

you; fear God more than the infidels; it is Saladin who calls you to

his banners; and Saladin is the friend of the Prophet, as the Prophet

is the friend of God. If you do not obey, your families will be driven

from Syria, and God will plant in your places other nations better than

you. Jerusalem, the sister of Medina and Mecca, will fall again into

the power of idolaters, who give a son, a companion, an equal to the

Most High, and wish to extinguish the knowledge of God. Arm yourselves

then with the buckler of victory; disperse the children of fire, the

sons of hell, whom the sea has vomited upon your shores, and remember

these words of the Koran: ‘_He who shall abandon his dwelling to defend

the holy religion, shall meet with abundance and a great number of

companions._’”

Animated by such discourses, the Mussulmans flew to arms, and from all

parts flocked to the camp of Saladin, whom they looked upon as the arm

of victory, and the beloved son of the Prophet.

Whilst this was going on Richard was retarded in his march by interests

quite foreign to the crusade. At the moment that his rival was waiting

for him to take a city from the Saracens, and was willing to share even

glory with him, he made himself master of a kingdom, and kept it for

himself.

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.