and Saracen, then met on a plain near the seashore, called Azotus.
Saladin commenced the attack upon the wing of Richard’s army, composed
of the French troops under the command of the duke of Burgundy. They
resisted and drove the Saracens back. Then Richard gave the signal for
a charge, and rode forward at the head of his troops, mounted on his
famous charger, and flourishing his heavy battle-axe. This axe was a
ponderous weapon. Richard had ordered it made before leaving England,
and it was so immense that few men could lift it. But as Richard Cœur
de Lion was a man of marvellous strength, he wielded this huge weapon
with prodigious force. When it came down upon the head of a steel-clad
knight, on his horse, it often crushed both man and steed to the
ground. The darts and javelins of the Mohammedans glanced off from King
Richard’s steel armor, without inflicting any wound, while Saracen
after Saracen was felled to the earth by the blows from his ponderous
battle-axe.
It was not long before Saladin’s army was flying in all directions,
pursued by the crusaders. After this battle Richard established his
army in Jaffa. In the meantime Saladin was collecting forces for a
more vigorous resistance. Historians have condemned this inactivity
of Richard’s army for so many weeks at Jaffa, thus enabling Saladin
to rally his men and become more determined in his defence. During
the time while Richard’s army was resting and feasting at Jaffa,
King Richard and Saladin entered upon several negotiations, which
were carried on through Saphadin, the brother of Saladin, who was
provided with a safe conduct through the enemies’ lines. One of these
propositions was that Richard and Saladin should cease hostilities
and become allies, and that their difficulties should be settled by a
marriage between Joanna, Richard’s sister, the ex-queen of Sicily, and
Saphadin, the brother of Saladin. But this, and all other propositions,
at length came to naught, and in November, Richard advanced with his
army as far as Bethany, with a forlorn hope that they might find
themselves strong enough to attack Jerusalem. But this hope was vain.
Richard’s men were dying from sickness and famine, caused by a large
amount of their provisions being spoiled by the fall rains which had
now set in, and many of the discouraged soldiers deserted. These losses
so thinned King Richard’s ranks, that he was obliged to retreat to
Acre. While they were at Bethany, a band of crusaders had ascended a
mountain overlooking Jerusalem. King Richard was asked to come and see
the holy city in the distance. “No,” said he, covering his face with
his cloak, “those who are not worthy of conquering Jerusalem should not
look upon it.”
While at Acre, Richard learned that Saladin was besieging Jaffa. The
historian Guizot thus describes the rescue of Jaffa from the Saracens:—
“When King Richard arrived at Jaffa, the crescent already shone upon
the walls; but a priest who had cast himself into the water in front
of the royal vessel told Richard that he could yet save the garrison,
although the town was already in the hands of the enemy. The ship had
not yet reached the landing-stage, and already the king was in the
water, which reached to his shoulders, and was uttering the war-cry
‘St. George!’ The infidels, who were then plundering the city, took
fright, and three thousand men fled, pursued by four or five knights of
the cross. The little corps of Christians intrenched themselves behind
planks of wood, and tuns; ten tents held the whole of the army. Day had
scarcely dawned, when a soldier flew to Richard’s bedside. ‘O king, we
are dead men!’ he cried; ‘the enemy is upon us.’ The king sprang up
from his bed, scarcely allowing himself time to buckle on his armor,
and omitting his helmet and shield. ‘Silence!’ he said to the bearer
of the bad news, ‘or I will kill you.’ Seventeen knights had gathered
round Cœur de Lion, kneeling on the ground, and holding their lances;
in their midst were some archers, accompanied by attendants who were
recharging their arquebuses. The king was standing in the midst. The
Saracens endeavored in vain to overawe this heroic little band; not
one of them stirred. At length, under a shower of arrows, the knights
sprang on their horses, and swept the plain before them. They entered
Jaffa towards evening, and drove the Mussulmans from it. From the time
of daybreak Richard had not ceased for a moment to deal out his blows,
and the skin of his hand adhered to the handle of his battle-axe.”
Still more graphically do the old chronicles thus describe this battle:—
“Where the fight was fiercest there rode King Richard, and the Turks
fell beneath his flashing sword. Then the galley-men, fearing for their
lives, left the battle and took refuge in their boats, and the Turks
thought to seize the town while the army was fighting in the field. But
the king, taking with him but two knights and two crossbowmen, entered
the town and dispersed the Turks who had entered, and set sentinels to
guard it, and then, hasting to the galleys, gathered together the men,
and encouraging them with his words, brought them back to the fight.
And as he led them to the field, he fell upon the enemy so fiercely,
that he cut his way all alone into the midst of the ranks, and they
gave way before him. But they closed around him, and he was left alone,
and at that sight our men feared greatly. But alone in the midst of his
enemies he remained unmoved, and all as they approached him were cut
down like corn before the sickle. And there rode against him a great
admiral, distinguished above all the rest by his rich caparisons, and
with bold arrogance assayed to attack him, but the king with one blow
of his sword cut off his head and shoulder and right arm. Then the
Turks fled in terror at the sight, and the king returned to his men,
and lo! the king was stuck all over with javelins, like the spines of a
hedgehog, and the trappings of his horse with arrows. The battle lasted
that day from the rising to the setting sun, but the Turks returned to
Saladin, and he mocked his men, and asked them where was Malek-Rik,
whom they had promised to bring him. But one of them answered, ‘There
is no knight on earth like Malek-Rik; nay, nor ever was from the
beginning of the world.’”
King Richard’s forces were now so weakened, that he found it would
be hopeless to endeavor to take Jerusalem. The Archduke Leopold, of
Austria, had left the army with his men and gone home. This was caused
by a quarrel between himself and King Richard. Saladin having left
Ascalon, Richard hastened to repair its fortifications. In order to
encourage his soldiers, he himself carried stones to the workers,
urging the archduke to do the same. “I am not the son of a mason,”
replied the Austrian, haughtily. Whereupon, Richard, in anger, struck
him a blow in the face, which indignity so enraged the archduke, that
he immediately took his forces and returned to Austria.
Another event occurred at this time, the blame of which some historians
lay upon King Richard. Conrad of Montferrat, one of the claimants to
the title of King of Jerusalem, was murdered by two emissaries, sent
by the “Old Man of the Mountain,” who was a famous chieftain, living
with his band of bold robbers among the mountains. The men under this
chieftain were trained to obey without any dissent the commands given
by their leader. A story was spread abroad that these men were hired by
King Richard to kill Conrad. The friends of Richard declared, however,
that it was caused by a quarrel between Conrad and the Old Man of the
Mountain.
Two incidents are related of Saladin’s generosity towards Richard,
his foe. At one time King Richard was very sick with fever, and
Saladin supplied him with cooling drinks and fresh fruits, thus kindly
ministering to the comfort of his sick enemy. At another time, during
a battle with the Saracens, Saladin beheld King Richard standing on a
little knoll, surrounded by his knights. “Why is he on foot?” asked
Saladin, for Richard’s famous charter had been killed that day in the
battle. “The king of England should not fight on foot, like a common
soldier,” exclaimed Saladin, and forthwith he sent Richard a splendid
horse as a present. When the steed was brought to the king, one of his
knights mounted him to try his speed. Whereupon, the intelligent animal
immediately turned and ran with his rider to the camp of the Saracens.
Saladin was so chagrined at this unlooked-for occurrence, and fearing
lest Richard should imagine his kindly present had only been sent as a
treacherous stratagem, immediately placed the Christian knight upon a
more gentle horse, and sent with him a still handsomer charger, as a
present to the English king, which Richard gladly received.
[Illustration: “MOST HOLY LAND, FAREWELL!”]
Disquieting news now reached King Richard from England. His brother
John, aided by Philip of France, had deposed the chancellor, and
caused himself to be made governor-general of the kingdom. Under these
circumstances, and the hopelessness of capturing Jerusalem, King
Richard concluded a truce with Saladin, giving up Ascalon to him, but
keeping Jaffa, Tyre, and the fortresses along the coast, and promising
to refrain from any hostilities during a period of three years, three
months, three weeks, three days, and three hours. “Then I will come
back,” said Richard, “with double the men that I now possess, and will
reconquer Jerusalem.” Saladin answered: “that if the Holy City was
to fall into the hands of the Christians, no one was more worthy of
conquering it than Malek-Rik.”
On the 9th of October, 1192, Richard Cœur de Lion left Palestine to
return to his own kingdom. The queens embarked first in their vessel,
followed soon after by Richard in his war-ship. As the shore of the
Holy Land was receding from view, Richard gazed upon it from the deck
of his galley; and stretching out his arms towards it, exclaimed,—
“Most holy land, farewell! I commend thee to God’s keeping and care.
May He give me life and health to return and rescue thee from the hands
of the infidels.”
A storm soon arose, and the vessels of King Richard’s fleet were
separated. The queens arrived safely in Sicily, but King Richard was
driven to the Island of Corfu. Here he hired three small vessels to
take him to the head of the Adriatic Sea, and then he endeavored to
cross through Germany by land. He assumed the garb of a merchant, lest
his many enemies should discover him. Thus he travelled through the
mountains of the Tyrol. But having sent a ring with a messenger to the
governor of Goritz, seeking a passport, the governor exclaimed, “This
ring belongs to no merchant, but only to the king of England.”
Thus was King Richard discovered; and he was seized by his old enemy,
Duke Leopold of Austria, and put into prison. Which event, coming
to the knowledge of the emperor of Germany, he himself claimed the
illustrious captive, saying, “A duke cannot possibly keep a king.”
So King Richard was shut up in the castle of Trifels by the emperor,
where he languished for two years. Meanwhile neither his wife nor
mother could obtain any trace of him; and even after his brother
John learned that Richard was imprisoned by the emperor of Germany,
he joined King Philip of France in making propositions to the German
emperor, promising to pay him large sums of money if he would keep the
king of England in prison. The place of King Richard’s imprisonment
was said to have been discovered by a celebrated troubadour named
Blondel, who had known Richard in Palestine, and was now travelling
through Germany. As he went along in front of the castle where Richard
was confined, he was singing one of the troubadour songs. When he had
finished one stanza, King Richard, who knew the song, sang the next
verse through the bars of his prison window. Blondel recognized the
voice, and perceiving that Richard was a prisoner, he made all speed to
go to England and inform King Richard’s friends of his sad situation.
It is said that the first news Berengaria received of Richard’s fate
was by seeing a jewelled belt offered for sale in Rome. This belt
she recognized as one which King Richard wore when he left Acre.
But upon inquiry, she could only learn that Richard was somewhere
in Germany. The news that King Richard Cœur de Lion was a prisoner
in Germany roused great excitement in England and in Rome. The Pope
excommunicated Duke Leopold for having seized Richard, and threatened
to excommunicate the emperor if he did not release him. Finally the
emperor agreed to set the king of England free upon the payment of a
certain sum of money, two-thirds of which were to be received before
the king should be released. At length, in February, 1194, about two
years after Richard was first imprisoned, the first payment was made,
and King Richard Cœur de Lion was allowed to go free; and he arrived in
England in March, when the people gave him a magnificent reception. As
soon as Richard had arranged his affairs, he determined to be crowned
a second time as king of England, lest the two years of his captivity
might have weakened his claims. He was accordingly recrowned with the
greatest pomp and splendor. At the request of his mother he pardoned
his brother John, saying, “I hope that I shall as easily forget the
injuries he has done me as he will forget my forbearance in pardoning
him.” But Richard treated Berengaria with great unkindness and open
neglect, until he was suddenly seized with a severe illness, which so
alarmed him that he called for a great number of monks and priests, and
began to confess his sins, vowing, if God would spare his life, he
would abandon his profligate and wicked habits, and treat his wife with
kindness. He recovered, and he so far kept his vows as to send for his
wife, and become, outwardly at least, reconciled to her. But the fault
was all on his side; for poor Berengaria had given him no cause for his
cruel treatment of her. The reign of Richard Cœur de Lion was soon to
end, however, and the cause was one which shed neither glory nor honor
upon his fame. A rich treasure had been found by one of his vassals,
the viscount of Limoges. Richard at once claimed it, and the viscount
sent him half. But Richard determined to secure the whole of it, and
accordingly went to the castle of Chaluz, where the treasure was, and
laid siege to the place. It was well defended, but provisions becoming
short, the garrison wished to capitulate. “No,” said Richard, “I will
take your place by storm, and cause you all to be hanged on the walls.”
[Illustration: JOHN]
While King Richard was examining the point of attack, a young archer,
named Bertrand de Gourdon, shot an arrow at the king, and wounded him
upon the shoulder. The town was taken and all the garrison were hung.
King Richard’s wound, through the unskilful handling of the surgeons,
proved to be fatal. As he was dying he sent for Gourdon. “Wretch!” said
Richard to the archer, “what had I done to you that you should have
attempted my life?”
“You have put my father and two brothers to death,” said Bertrand, “and
you wanted to hang me.”
The dying king, at last struck with remorse for his many cruel deeds,
said, “I forgive you,” and he ordered the chains of the archer to be
removed, and that he should receive one hundred shillings. This humane
command, however, was not obeyed, and Bertrand was flayed alive.
Richard Cœur de Lion died on the 6th of April, 1199, at the age of
forty-two, and was buried, according to his request, at the foot of
the grave of Henry II., his father, in Fontevraud Abbey. The figures
in stone of the father, mother, and son, who quarrelled so much while
living, all lie now on one monument. Richard Cœur de Lion was well
called the Lion-Hearted. His glory consisted in his reckless and brutal
ferocity. He pretended to be the champion and defender of the cause of
Christ, but he used the sacred name of Christianity only as a means of
gratifying his own wild ambitions and his inhuman thirst for blood.
Though he won the fame of a brave and valorous knight, his savage
barbarity and reckless cruelties tarnished all the brightness of his
glory, and brought disgrace and dishonor upon the sacred cause of true
religion, of which he pretended to be the most zealous upholder.
ROBERT BRUCE.
1274-1329 A.D.
“Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,
Scots, whom Bruce has aften led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
On to victorie!”—BURNS.
“BRUCE to the rescue! Bruce to the rescue!” was the war-cry of the
valiant little band of Scottish chiefs who gathered under the banner of
Robert Bruce, who was the seventh lord of Annandale, and also earl of
Garrick.
The heroic William Wallace had already endeavored to free his country
from the yoke of bondage in which they were held by the English king,
Edward I.
Alexander III., the ninety-fifth king of Scotland, had died in 1286,
leaving his grand-daughter Margaret, the Fair Maid of Norway, heir to
the Scottish throne. This child-princess was betrothed to the son of
the English king; but when quite young, as she sailed from her father’s
castle in Norway to her future home in Scotland, she died on the voyage
thither. Thus the crown of Scotland became the cause of dispute amongst
thirteen noblemen, descendants of members of the royal family, who set
up claims to the vacant throne.
There were but two claimants whose pretensions were based upon
sufficient grounds to insure any prospect of success. These were John
Baliol and Robert Bruce, grandson and son of the two elder daughters
of David, earl of Huntingdon, who was the younger brother of King
William, the Lion, who was the ninety-third king of Scotland. This
Robert Bruce was the grandfather of the hero who is the subject of this
sketch.
[Illustration: WARREN, EARL OF SURREY, GOVERNOR OF SCOTLAND UNDER
EDWARD I.]
King Edward of England, having been requested by the Scots to act as
arbitrator amongst all these claimants, decided to give the preference
to John Baliol, who was crowned king in November, 1292, having sworn
fealty to Edward, king of England. Thus did the wily English sovereign
place upon the Scottish throne a king weak enough to be used as his
tool. And poor John Baliol soon found, to his sorrow, that he was a
king only in name; but in reality a slave in the hands of his ambitious
and powerful neighbor.
Edward, having placed the feeble Baliol upon the throne of Scotland,
spared him no humiliation. Every time any Scottish petitioner appealed
to Edward, Baliol’s liege lord, regarding any decision of the king of
Scotland which had failed to satisfy his subject, Edward would summon
Baliol to appear at his court, to render an account of his judgment.
This occurred four times the first year of his reign. At length Baliol
refused to comply longer with these demands of Edward, whereupon the
English king advanced with an army against the Scots. After a fearful
massacre at Berwick, and the capture of several castles by the English,
Baliol begged for peace, and was sent to the Tower in honorable
captivity. He subsequently ended his life in his domains in Normandy.
Robert Bruce at once claimed the crown. But Edward exclaimed, angrily,
“Do you think that I have nothing else to do but to conquer kingdoms
for you?”
Scotland was now treated as a conquered country; and Warrene, earl of
Surrey, was appointed governor, Hugh de Cressingham, treasurer, and
William Ormesby, chief justicier.
Robert Bruce the grandfather, and also Robert Bruce the father of
our hero, considered it the better part of discretion to resign all
pretensions to the throne of Scotland. They therefore swore fealty to
King Edward.
Robert de Bruce, the sixth lord of Annandale, had accompanied Edward,
when prince of England, and Louis I. of France, to the Holy Land, where
he acquired great renown. A romantic story is told of his courtship and
marriage.
One day this knight of the crusades was riding through the domains of
Turnberry. As he was proceeding leisurely along through the majestic
forests, charmed with the beauty of the sylvan scenery, watching the
glinting sunbeams dance athwart the leaves, and play hide-and-seek
with the shadows, in the cosey nooks where moss-banks nestled, he was
startled by the sound of a hunting-horn; and shortly a gay cavalcade of
lords and ladies dashed through the forest on their way to the castle
near by. One of the ladies, Margaret, countess of Garrick, the owner of
this castle, and hostess of this splendid retinue, being captivated by
the lordly bearing of the handsome, unknown knight, with the freedom
and natural courtesy of one who felt her independence upon her own
domain, reined in her high-bred steed, whose wild spirits were curbed
by slightest touch of her fair fingers, and, bowing to the knight
with queenly dignity, she invited him to join her visitors, and share
her hospitality. Robert de Bruce, knowing the high position of this
gracious lady, and fearing to accept too eagerly such an unexpected
honor, courteously declined the kind invitation, which he supposed had
been offered only out of a courtly hospitality, as he had been found a
stranger within her own domains. But the beautiful countess, moved by
some strange attraction, which she did not stop to analyze, gaily laid
hold of the reins of his steed, and laughingly replied:—
“Ah, noble knight! no trespasser on my grounds ever escapes
imprisonment in my castle;” and thereupon she led him away, like a
captive knight, to her castle of Turnberry.
For fifteen days he was the honored guest amidst all the festivities at
the castle, and the first in the chase, by the side of the bewitching
countess; and, having obtained her heart, as well as her hand, they
were married, without the consent of the king, whose ward she was, or
the knowledge of her relatives; in consequence of which the estates and
castle of the young countess were seized by the sovereign, and were
only saved to her by the payment of a large fine to the crown.
The eldest son of this brave knight and beautiful countess, who had
risked so much for love, and whose marriage was as romantic as any
described in Scottish tales of fiction, was Robert the Bruce, our hero,
who was afterwards King Robert I. of Scotland. He was born on the 21st
of March, 1274. He spent his early youth at Carrick, where he was
distinguished for his brave spirit and persevering energy.
The grandfather of Robert the Bruce, Robert, lord of Annandale,
refusing to take the oath of homage to his rival, John Baliol, when
King Edward of England decided in his favor, gave up his Scottish
domains in Annandale to his son, the earl of Carrick, lest he should
hold them as Edward’s minion. This proceeding was also followed by
the earl in 1293, in behalf of his son, Robert the Bruce, who was
then serving the king of England. Notwithstanding the sympathy of
young Bruce with the cause of Scotland, and his resolve to assert his
claims to the Scottish crown, he had, during the greater part of the
reign of his weak rival, adhered to the fortunes of Edward, deeming
it better policy to yield himself to the uncontrollable necessity of
circumstances, rather than risk his cause by undue haste. Sometimes
he appeared to assert his own pretensions to the crown, and the
independence of his country; and then, again, he yielded submission
to the superior power of the English king, whose good-will he wished
to keep until a favorable opportunity should offer itself of openly
asserting his rights. Robert might have obtained the crown if he would
have acknowledged the superior power of England, and submitted himself
as a vassal to the English king, as Baliol had done. But he would not
receive it on any other terms than as a free crown, which had been worn
by his ancestors, and of right belonged to him.
When John Baliol was raised to sovereign power, the family of Bruce,
although looking upon his elevation with envy, deemed it prudent to
conceal their dissatisfaction, and the father of young Robert, who
possessed the earldom of Carrick, in right of the countess his wife,
resigned to his son these possessions, who was admitted to do homage to
Baliol, the Scottish king, and thus became earl of Carrick.