[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.
[Illustration: KING HENRY II. OF ENGLAND]
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.
* * * * *
[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.
* * * * *
[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.
* * * * *
[Illustration: RICHARD CŒUR-DE-LION]
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!”
* * * * *
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.
* * * * *
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.
* * * * *
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.
* * * * *
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.”