Conrad’s Death
The intention of Frederick’s faithless allies to destroy his army by
hunger rather than by the sword was frustrated by the indefatigable
exertions of the Germans. Though greatly reduced in numbers, they had
thwarted every device of cunning and hatred, and though menaced by
continually increasing numbers, had reached the region they had hoped
for—a region where no German foot had ever trodden before. They found
everything there which they needed, and even more, for the enemy had not
been able to carry it away or destroy it.
Frederick, who had accurately divined the plans of the enemy, only
allowed his army to take so much rest as was absolutely needed, for his
foes behind the mountains were increasing their strength every day. All
the princes approved of the Emperor’s policy to advance at the earliest
moment and overcome the enemy, and not to take a long rest until it
became indispensable.
Conrad again led the advance, and this time the Emperor’s son, Frederick
of Swabia, like his noble father, a true type of German chivalry,
accompanied him. The army followed on foot. The advance approached the
open country on the other side of the grandly swelling hills unmolested,
and there the knights made their first stand against the Turks, who
confronted them in dense masses. It was then the German knights showed
their prowess. With levelled lances they charged into the close ranks of
the enemy, dashed them to the earth in heaps, then with lightning-like
swiftness exchanged lance for sword and battle-axe, with which they
fought so furiously that all who could make their escape fled shrieking
and howling. The onset made room for those in the rear, and the base of
the hills soon swarmed with Christians, who fiercely attacked the Turks
at a swift gallop and drove them back with broken heads.
The battle, which lasted nearly all day, showed that the Turks had been
surprised by the Christians before all their preparations were
completed; for as evening came on, the Christians beheld large dark
masses of troops coming from the distance to strengthen the enemy. Every
one realized that a great battle was impending on the following day, and
all eagerly awaited it. The Christians gradually and steadily advanced,
in accordance with the Emperor’s orders, while the enemy’s force fell
back to support their approaching reinforcements and gain more room for
their cavalry.
Frederick and the princes realized that they must meet a formidable foe.
His orders for the disposition of his forces showed great skill and
experience. The superior numbers of the enemy, which were continually
increasing, and the fact that the ground was specially favorable to the
latter, particularly to their cavalry, called for the highest skill and
most persistent courage on the part of the Christians. On the other
side, in the rear of the enemy, lay a rich fertile region, for the
protection of which they would exhaust their resources in order not to
crowd upon their neighbor, the Sultan Saladin, who might be willing
enough to help them, but who would not, under any circumstances, be
disposed to share the country with them if they were defeated. The only
alternatives for the Christians were victory or death; for behind them
was a malignant, perfidious people, who had harassed and plundered them
when they were victorious. What, then, might they expect, if they were
defeated, disarmed, and exhausted? Battle was inevitable, and all were
certain it must be a life-and-death struggle.
On the evening of May thirteen, the Emperor held another council of war;
preparations for the struggle were thoroughly discussed. Nothing was
overlooked, and every one was asked for his opinion. As soon as the
plans had been settled upon and it was decided to attack in the morning,
all betook themselves to rest.
Morning dawned after a short, cool May night. The first faint streaks of
light were barely visible when the outposts noticed a great bustle in
the enemy’s camp. As soon as Conrad was informed of it he ordered
Raymond to carry the news to the Emperor’s tent. Raymond found the
Emperor already busily making his preparations. After a hurried
observation of the enemy he ordered that attack should be made as
quickly as possible. The camp was at once astir. Noiselessly, but with
astonishing rapidity, the eagerly expected commands were executed, the
various divisions led by the princes and the nobles were massed, and
messengers hurried in all directions conveying the orders of the
Emperor, who meanwhile mounted his battle-horse in full armor and rode
to the front with Raymond. Cheers greeted the grizzled old hero faring
forth to battle as fresh and vigorous as in the days of his youthful
strength. Victory shone in his eyes and declared itself in his general
bearing. The faintest-hearted must have been emboldened by his look. The
enemy in the meantime were busily engaged with their own preparations.
The German army steadily advanced upon the Turks, who at first fell back
without striking a blow. Nevertheless, there were real encounters, for
here and there small groups of the enemy would come within arrow shot,
kill some Christians, and then swiftly retreat, and avoid pursuit. Many
believed the Turks were repeating their old game, and that either they
did not intend to make a stand or they were luring them on to some
favorable spot where they could make an attack from every side.
The leaders watched these movements very carefully, giving especial
attention to the enemy’s wings to prevent themselves from being
surrounded. These tactics lasted for some hours, and during that time
the two armies were often so near to each other that battle seemed
inevitable. The Christians were eager for it, but found no opportunity
to attack, for whenever they made anything resembling an offensive move,
the Turks scattered like chaff. The Emperor, who kept in the front,
repeatedly ordered an attack, but before a sword could be drawn the
enemy would fly in every direction and render it useless.
This style of fighting was repugnant to the Germans and the German
nature. They were accustomed to look an enemy in the eye, meet him
valiantly, and not retreat. This useless expenditure of strength, this
wearisome effort to force the Turks into an engagement enraged them, and
they determined to make an end of it. As a large body of Turks came
near, the Emperor loudly cried, “Why delay longer to purchase the
heavenly kingdom with our blood? Christ commands! Christ triumphs!” With
these words he dashed into the densest of the enemy’s ranks, taking them
by surprise. They waved their scymitars, with loud cries of “Allah!” The
battle had begun, Frederick fighting like a lion in the midst of the
constantly increasing enemy. The mailed giants hurled themselves upon
the Turks with all their force, and the fight soon raged all along the
line. Here the Turks swarmed around a troop of German knights, and there
single knights fought against superior numbers, who strove in vain to
break through their steel mail. Arrows whizzed through the air;
battle-axes and clubs crashed down. The fight was furious on both sides;
where the German foot-soldiers were engaged, the Turks were most
successful, for being unprotected by armor, the former were slain by
arrows. But when the full-armed knights, the flower of the army, were
encountered, their assailants fell, never to rise again.
The noonday sun flamed down so fiercely upon the knights that their
armor glowed with heat and their faces were bathed in perspiration. Some
were hardly able to raise their weapons. They no longer sought the
enemy, being satisfied to repel him when attacked. The German ranks were
already thinned, but their losses were not so great as the enemy’s.
The Germans, after almost endless exertions, succeeded in forcing the
enemy back, and looked upon a field covered with slain. They also heard
loud wailings and lamentations for the dead, which inspired them with
fresh courage. The Turks fiercely disputed every foot of ground, and
every step gained was dearly paid for. It was apparent that the enemy
either were unwearied or else that they were frequently reinforced, for
each fresh attack was stoutly resisted. Seemingly it would have been an
endless battle had not night stopped the slaughter. As the sun went
down, its intense heat lessened, but heated passions did not cool. The
whole field resounded with shouts of “Allah!” and “Christ!” The Germans
succeeded in driving the enemy before them. As the latter fell back they
defended themselves step by step, but as the darkness fell they suddenly
abandoned the struggle and disappeared.
The Emperor wisely and emphatically forbade pursuit. The knights stood
by their panting horses and wiped the sweat from their brows, while the
foot-soldiers gathered about their leaders. They distrusted the enemy
for a long time and held themselves in readiness to repulse one of those
subtle attacks which were so characteristic of the Turks. When the
spies, however, reported that they could find no trace of them,
Frederick gave orders to pitch the tents. Every one sought food and
drink, the first requisites after a hard battle. As soon as all were
satisfied, they searched for the wounded, of whom there were not many
thus far; partly because almost every scymitar blow had been fatal, and
partly because the heat hastened the death of the severely wounded.
Those who could rest by the side of their own friends and
comrades-in-arms were fortunate. Among these was Conrad of Feuchtwangen,
who held both his sons in his arms, while they in turn embraced him and
murmured prayers of thankfulness to God for protecting him. Then the
weary ones slumbered, gathering fresh strength for new victories, of
which their souls dreamed while their bodies rested from their strenuous
exertions.
With the first beams of the rising sun, the Turks renewed their
operations by approaching the Christians and daring them to battle. The
latter advanced more quickly than on the previous day so as not again to
waste their strength, and also to force the enemy back more speedily.
The entire plain was covered with the combatants. It seemed like some
great thoroughfare upon which one crowd was advancing and the other
retiring. Only here and there did they come together. Except in such
spots, the two movements were continuous and in a southerly direction.
The Christians imagined that the enemy made this move so as to reach the
extreme frontier of the kingdom of Iconium and meet the approaching
Egyptian troops, and then jointly attack. The Emperor himself at last
came to this opinion. He regarded it as possible, although he failed to
understand why the enemy on the day before had made such sacrifices when
there was no prospect of victory. Nevertheless, he completed his
preparations to attack the united forces, and, if God so willed, to
crush them at a blow, and thus all the more quickly accomplish the
object of the expedition.
The Turks, indeed, made little resistance all that day, and many were so
credulous as to believe they would disappear again as they did on the
preceding day; but toward evening they again rallied in force,
apparently to make a vigorous attack. The Christians were at once in
readiness to meet them. The princes headed the knights, with levelled
lances. Conrad, with his large retinue, did the same, and like a
terrible thunder storm in a dark night they hurled themselves upon the
enemy. The latter’s dense mass was riven in twain as if by a lightning
stroke, and a fearful hand-to-hand encounter ensued. Lances were soon
exchanged for battle-axes and war-clubs, and these in turn for swords.
The Christians strove to overcome the superior numbers of the enemy by
separating them so as to attack them in detached groups, and the plan
succeeded. Every knight was engaged with three or four or more of the
enemy, handjars[30] and sabres flashed in the air, and many a one, who
up to this time had escaped fatal assault, fell lifeless in sight of his
comrades, and his blood mingled with that of his foe. Conrad and his
sons, who as yet were safe, fought like lions against overpowering
numbers, but Raymond was suddenly wounded in the arm by a blow from a
scymitar. In his anxiety for him, Conrad for a moment neglected his own
safety, and as he turned to help his son, he received a terrible cut in
the neck. At the same instant Raymond’s sword descended with all the
strength of his wounded arm upon the head of the Turk, who fell dead
from his horse. Raymond’s sword, however, dropped from his hand, and he
found himself unable to protect his father or himself amid a swarm of
bloodthirsty Turks. But help was at hand, for the Emperor had led his
forces to a glorious victory. Those of the enemy who were not disabled
fled before the lions, who shook their manes in furious rage and looked
about them for more victims.
With tears in their eyes the two youths stood by the side of their dying
father. They had laid their dear one under a great oak tree, which
extended its branches over him like protecting arms, and sought to
stanch his wound. The sight bitterly grieved the Emperor as he
approached. He had found the steed and shield of his old
comrade-in-arms, and well knew what he had lost; but the spot showed
clearly what his life had cost the enemy, for the shield was covered
with blood and a wall of slain lay beside it. He at once ordered that
his brave friend should be taken to his own tent and cared for as such a
friend deserved.
“Were it possible to purchase thy life, thou faithful one, I would give
this day’s honor,” said the Emperor, with great emotion.
“Thanks, my noble sovereign, for thy true friendship, which accompanies
me even to the grave,” said Conrad; “but I feel I shall not long enjoy
it. Death steadily approaches, and my life swiftly nears its close. But
it would be a great consolation in my dying hour to know that my sons
will be cared for. I brought them here in the morning of their life that
they might see how brave knights can die for God and their Emperor. I
think I myself have set them the best example—I can do no more. Take
them when I am gone.”
“I will care for them,” said the Emperor, “as if they were my own sons,
and they shall always be near me. I pledge my life for them as freely
and as courageously as thou hast pledged thine for me.”
The dying Conrad cast a look of gratitude upon the Emperor, then turned
to his sons, pressed their hands to his heart with all his remaining
strength, and said:
“Be worthy of your ancestors your whole life long—turn not a step from
the path—of virtue—true to your Emperor to—the last breath—to innocence
a—protector—to evil-doers and blasphemers—an avenging judge—and—I die
willingly.”
Thus Conrad of Feuchtwangen passed away. All were in tears. Even the
Emperor’s eyes were moist. At last he ordered that the body should be
buried with the highest honors, and that Raymond and Conrad should
follow him to his tent and stay with him in future.