THE TRAGEDY OF PHARESCOUR.
AT Pharescour, on the margin of the Nile, the Sultan of Egypt had a
remarkable palace. It appears to have been constructed of wood, and
covered with cloth of brilliant colours. At the entrance was a pavilion,
where the emirs and chiefs were in the habit of leaving their swords,
when they had audience of the sultan; and beyond this pavilion was a
handsome gateway which led to the great hall where the sultan feasted;
and adjoining the great hall was a tower, by which the sultan ascended
to his private apartments.
Between the palace and the river was a spacious lawn, in which there was
a tower, to which the sultan was wont to ascend when he wished to make
observations on the surrounding country; and hard by was an alley which
led towards the margin of the hill, and a summer-house formed of
trellis-work and covered with Indian linen, where he frequently repaired
for the purpose of bathing.
The chroniclers of the period who write of the crusade of St. Louis
fully describe this palace. Indeed, the appearance of the place was
strongly impressed on the memory of the Crusaders. It was there that
Touran Chah, when on his way from Mansourah to Damietta, halted to
receive the congratulations of the Moslem chiefs on the victory that had
been achieved over the Franks; there, in their company, he celebrated
his triumph by a grand banquet; and there was enacted the terrible
tragedy that exposed the surviving pilgrims to new dangers and fresh
trials.
By this time, indeed, the emirs and Mamelukes had become so exasperated
at the elevation of the sultan's favourite courtiers that they vowed
vengeance; and, in order to justify their project, they ascribed to him
the most sinister designs. It was asserted that many of the emirs were
doomed to die on a certain day; and that, in the midst of a nocturnal
orgy, Touran Chah had cut off the tops of the flambeaux in his chamber,
crying--'Thus shall fly the heads of all the Mamelukes.' In order to
avenge herself for the neglect to which she was exposed under the new
reign, Chegger Edour, the sultana who had played so important a part in
the last days of Melikul Salih, exerted her eloquence to stimulate the
discontent; and the emirs and Mamelukes, having formed a conspiracy,
only awaited a convenient opportunity to complete their projects of
vengeance at a blow.
It was the day after his arrival at Pharescour, on which Touran Chah
gave a banquet to the chiefs of his army; and, as it happened, the
company comprised the Mamelukes and the emirs who were, or who deemed
themselves, in danger. It would seem that everything went forward
quietly and ceremoniously till the feast was ended, and the sultan rose
to ascend to his chamber. Not a moment, however, was then lost. As soon
as Touran Chah moved from table, Bibars Bendocdar, who carried the
sultan's sword, struck the first blow, and instantly the others rushed
furiously upon their destined victim. Touran Chah parried the blow of
the Mameluke chief with his hand; but the weapon penetrated between two
of his fingers and cut up his arm.
'My lords,' said he, taken by surprise; 'I make my complaint against
this man, who has endeavoured to kill me.'
'Better that you should be slain than live to murder us, as you intend
to do,' cried all present, with the exception of an envoy of the caliph,
who had arrived from Bagdad, and appeared much terrified at the scene so
suddenly presented.
Touran Chah looked round him in amazement; and, as he did so, he was
seized with terror. However, the instinct of self-preservation did not
desert him. With a spring he bounded between the motionless guards,
escaped into the lawn, took refuge in the tower, and looking from a
window demanded of the conspirators what they really wanted; but they
were not in a humour to spend time in talk.
'Come down,' cried they; 'you cannot escape us.'
'Assure me of safety, and I will willingly descend,' said the sultan.
At this stage the envoy of the caliph, having mounted his horse, came
forward as if to interfere; but the conspirators menaced him with
instant death if he did not return to his tent, and, still keenly bent
on completing their work of murder, ordered the sultan to come down.
Touran Chah shook his head, as if declining the invitation.
'Fool,' cried the conspirators, scornfully, 'we have the means of
compelling you to descend, or to meet a worse fate;' and without further
parley they commenced assailing the tower with Greek fire.
The Greek fire caught the cloth and timber, and immediately the whole
was in a blaze. Touran Chah could no longer hesitate. One hope remained
to him, namely to rush towards the Nile, to throw himself into the
water, and to take refuge on board one of the vessels that he saw
anchored near the shore. Accordingly he leaped from the blazing tower,
with the intention of rushing across the lawn. But the toils were upon
him. A nail having caught his mantle, he, after remaining for a moment
suspended, fell to the ground. Instantly sabres and swords waved over
him; and he clung in a supplicating posture to Octai, one of the
captains of his guard; but Octai repulsed him with contempt.
Nevertheless, the conspirators hesitated; and they were still
hesitating, when Bibars Bendocdar, who was never troubled either with
fears or scruples, and who, indeed, had struck the first blow, made a
thrust so stern that the sword remained sticking fast between the ribs
of the victim. Still resisting, however, the sultan contrived to drag
himself to the Nile, with a hope of reaching the galleys from which the
captive Crusaders witnessed the outrage; but some of the Mamelukes
followed him into the water; and close to the galley in which the Lord
of Joinville was, the heir of Saladin--the last of the Eioubites--died
miserably.
It was now that the Mamelukes rushed into the tent where Louis and his
brothers were.
'King,' cried Octai, pointing to his bloody sword, 'Touran Chah is no
more. What will you give me for having freed you from an enemy who
meditated your destruction as well as ours?'
Louis vouchsafed no reply.
'What!' cried the emir, furiously presenting the point of his sword;
'know you not that I am master of your person? Make me a knight, or thou
art a dead man.'
'Make thyself a Christian, and I will make thee a knight,' said Louis,
calmly.
Rather cowed than otherwise with his reception, and with the demeanour
of the royal captive, Octai retired; and the French king and his
brothers once more breathed with as much freedom as men could under the
circumstances. But they were not long left undisturbed. Scarcely had the
Mameluke aspirant for knighthood disappeared when the tent was crowded
with Saracens, who brandished their sabres and threatened Louis with
destruction.
'Frenchman!' cried they, addressing the king, wildly and fiercely; 'art
thou ignorant of thy danger, or what may be the fate that awaits thee?
Pharescour is not Mansourah, as events may convince thee yet. Here thou
mayest find a tomb instead of the house of Lokman, and the two terrible
angels, Munkir and Nakir, instead of the Eunuch Sahil.'