This retreat had most fatal results; whilst the leaders reproached

each other with the disgrace of the army and the egregious error

they had committed, the knights and soldiers sank into a state of

discouragement. The patriarch of Jerusalem refused from that time to

bear the wood of the true cross in the van of the Crusaders, as he

found the sight of it could neither revive their piety nor reanimate

their courage. The kings and princes who directed the crusade, wishing

to retrieve so shameful a reverse before they returned to Palestine,

led the army towards Phœnicia. In this new campaign no exploit

signalized their arms being winter, a great number of the soldiers,

overcome by cold, remained abandoned on the roads, whilst others fell

into the hands of the Bedouin Arabs. On Christmas eve, the Crusaders,

who were encamped between Tyre and Sarphat, were surprised by a violent

tempest; wind, rain, hail, whirlwinds, incessant peals of thunder

killed their horses, carried away their tents, and scattered their

baggage. This disaster completed their despondency, and created a

belief that Heaven refused them its support.

As they were in serious want of provisions, and the whole army could

not subsist in one place, they resolved to divide themselves into four

different bodies till the end of winter. This separation, which was

made amidst mutual complaints, appeared to be the work of discord much

more than of necessity. The king of Jerusalem, the duke of Austria, and

the grand master of St. John encamped in the plains of Cæsarea; the

king of Hungary, the king of Cyprus, and Raymond, son of the prince of

Antioch, retired to Tripoli;[203] the grand masters of the Templars and

the Teutonic knights, and Andrew d’Avesnes, with the Flemish Crusaders,

went to fortify a castle built at the foot of Mount Carmel; the other

Crusaders retired to Ptolemaïs with the intention of going back to

Europe.

The king of Cyprus fell ill and died just as he was upon the point of

embarking for his own kingdom. The king of Hungary was discouraged, and

began to despair of the success of a war so unfortunately commenced.

This prince, after a sojourn of three months in Palestine, thought his

vow accomplished, and resolved, all at once, to return to his dominions.

The West had doubtless been surprised to see Andrew abandon his

kingdom, torn by factions, to repair to Syria; and the Eastern

Christians were not less astonished at seeing this prince leave

Palestine without having done anything for the deliverance of the holy

places. The patriarch of Jerusalem reproached him with inconstancy,

and employed his utmost efforts to retain him beneath the banners of

the cross; but finding Andrew would not yield to his prayers, he had

recourse to threats, and displayed the formidable train of the weapons

of the Church. Nothing, however, could shake the resolution of the king

of Hungary, who satisfied himself with not appearing to desert the

cause of Christ by leaving half his troops under the command of the

king of Jerusalem.

After having quitted Palestine, Andrew remained for a long time in

Armenia, appearing to forget his own enemies, as he had forgotten those

of Christ. He came back into Europe through Asia Minor and beheld,

whilst passing Constantinople, the wreck of the Latin empire, which

ought to have roused him from his pious indolence, and have reminded

him of his own dangers. The Hungarian monarch, who had left his army in

Syria, took back with him a number of relics; such as the head of St.

Peter, the right hand of the apostle Thomas, and one of the seven vases

in which Christ changed water into wine at the marriage in Cana: his

confidence in these revered objects made him negligent of the means of

human prudence; and, if we may believe a contemporary chronicle,[204]

when he returned into Hungary, the relics which he brought from the

Holy Land sufficed for the suppression of all the troubles of his

states, and caused peace, the laws, and justice, to nourish throughout

his provinces. The greater part of the Hungarian historians, however,

hold quite another language,[205] and reproach their monarch with

having dissipated his treasures and his armies in an imprudent and

an unfortunate expedition; the nobility and people took advantage of

his long absence to impose laws upon him, and obtain liberties and

privileges which weakened the royal power, and scattered the germs of a

rapid decay in the kingdom of Hungary.

After the departure of the king of Hungary, a great number of Crusaders

arrived from the ports of Holland, France, and Italy. The Crusaders

from Friesland, Cologne, and the banks of the Rhine had stopped on the

coast of Portugal, where they had conquered the Moors in several great

battles, killed two Saracen princes, and mounted the banners of the

cross upon the walls of Alcazar. They described the miracles by which

Heaven had seconded their valour, and the apparition of angels, clothed

in resplendent armour, who had fought on the banks of the Tagus, in the

ranks of the soldiers of Christ.[206] The arrival of these warriors,

with the account of their victories, revived the courage of the

Crusaders who had remained in Palestine under the command of Leopold,

duke of Austria; with such a powerful reinforcement, nothing was talked

of but renewing the war against the Mussulmans.

The project of conquering the banks of the Nile often occupied the

thoughts of the Christians; since the idea of a war in Egypt had been

put forth by the pope himself amidst the council of the Lateran, it had

been considered as an inspiration from Heaven; they only thought of

the advantages of a rich conquest, and the perils of so difficult an

enterprise appeared of no importance in the eyes of the soldiers of the

cross.

The Christian army, commanded by the king of Jerusalem, the duke

of Austria, and William, count of Holland, embarked at the port of

Ptolemaïs, and landed within sight of Damietta, on the northern bank of

the second mouth of the Nile. The city of Damietta,[207] situated at

the distance of a mile from the sea, had a double rampart on the river

side, and a triple wall on the land side; a tower arose in the middle

of the Nile, and an iron chain, which reached from the city to the

tower, prevented the passage of vessels. The city contained a numerous

garrison, with provisions and munitions of war for a long siege.

Damietta had already several times resisted formidable attacks of the

Christians. Roger, king of Sicily, had made himself master of it in the

preceding century, but he was not able to retain and defend it, against

the united forces of the Mussulmans.

The Crusaders arrived before Damietta early in April; having pitched

their tents in a vast plain, they had behind them lakes and pools

abounding in fish of all kinds;[208] before them the Nile, covered with

their vessels; a thousand canals, crowned with evergreen papyrus and

reeds, intersected the lands, and spread freshness and fertility around

them. In the fields which had so lately been the theatre of sanguinary

contests, no traces of war were to be seen; harvests of rice covered

the plains in which Christian armies had perished by famine; groves of

oranges and citrons loaded with flowers and fruit; woods of palms and

sycamores, thickets of jasmines and odoriferous shrubs, with a crowd

of plants and wonders, unknown to the pilgrims, created the image of

an earthly paradise, and made them fancy that Damietta must have been

the first dwelling of man in his state of innocence. The aspect of a

beautiful sky and a rich climate intoxicated them with joy, kept hope

alive in their hearts, and held out to them the accomplishment of

all the divine promises. In their religious and warlike enthusiasm,

they believed they saw Providence prodigal of its miracles for the

success of their arms; scarcely had they established their camp on

the bank of the Nile, when an eclipse of the moon covered the horizon

with darkness; and even this phenomenon inflamed their courage, as it

appeared to them a presage of the greatest victories.

The first attacks[209] were directed against the tower built in the

middle of the Nile; vessels, in which were placed towers, ladders,

and drawbridges, approached the walls. The soldiers who manned them,

braving the arrows and murderous machines of the Mussulmans, made

several assaults; but prodigies of strength, courage, and skill were

useless. The most intrepid of the Crusaders, victims of their own rash

bravery and devotedness, perished, swallowed up by the waves, without

being able to be succoured or avenged by their companions. In all

the attacks, nothing could equal the impetuous valour of the Western

warriors; but this valour was not seconded by either the prudence of

the commanders or the discipline of the soldiers; each nation had its

leader, its machines of war, its days for fighting; no order governed

either attack or retreat; the soldiers on board the vessels wished to

manœuvre them, the sailors would fight.

The frequent checks they experienced, at length, however, taught

them prudence: the lightest of their vessels ascended the Nile, and

returning to cast anchor above the tower built in the middle of the

river, attacked and broke asunder the bridge of boats which united

the tower with the city. Industry likewise lent its assistance to the

bravery of the Crusaders; machines of war were invented, of which no

models had previously existed. An enormous wooden castle, built upon

two vessels,[210] joined together by beams and joists, was admired as

a miraculous invention, and considered as a certain pledge of victory.

Upon this floating castle was a drawbridge, which could be lowered

upon the tower of the Saracens, and galleries destined to receive the

soldiers who were to attack the walls. A poor priest of the church

of Cologne,[211] who had preached the crusade on the banks of the

Rhine, and followed the Christian army into Egypt, was charged with

the superintendence of the erection of this formidable edifice. As the

popes in their letters always advised the Crusaders to take with them

to the East men skilled in the mechanical arts,[212] the Christian

army was in no want of workmen to perform the most difficult labours;

the liberality of the leaders and soldiers supplied all the necessary

expenses.

The whole army looked with impatience for the moment at which

the enormous fortress should be brought near to the tower on the

Nile; prayers were offered up in the camp for the protection of

Heaven; the patriarch and the king of Jerusalem, the clergy and the

soldiers, during several days, submitted to all the austerities of

penitence,—all marched in procession barefooted to the seashore. The

leaders had fixed upon the festival of the apostle St. Bartholomew as

the day for the assault, and the Crusaders were filled with hope and

ardour. They vied with each other in eagerness to be of the assaulting

party, for which the best soldiers of each nation were selected, and

Leopold, duke of Austria, the model of Christian knights, obtained the

honour of commanding an expedition with which the first success of the

crusade was connected.

On the appointed day, the two vessels surmounted by the wooden tower

received the signal for moving. They carried three hundred warriors

fully armed; and an innumerable multitude of Mussulmans assembled on

the walls contemplated the spectacle with surprise mingled with dread.

The two vessels pursued their silent course up the middle of the river,

whilst all the Crusaders, either drawn up in battle-array on the left

bank of the Nile, or dispersed over the neighbouring hills, saluted

with loudest acclamations the moving fortress which bore the fortunes

and the hopes of the Christian army. On drawing near to the walls the

two vessels cast anchor, and the soldiers prepared for the assault.

Whilst the Christians hurled their javelins and got ready their lances

and swords, the Saracens poured upon them torrents of Greek fire, and

employed every effort to make the wooden castle on which their enemies

fought a prey to the flames. The one party was encouraged by the

shouts and applauses of the Christian army, the other by the thousand

times repeated acclamations of the inhabitants of Damietta. Amidst

the fight, the machine of the Crusaders all at once appeared on fire;

the drawbridge lowered on to the walls of the tower wavered and was

unsteady; the flagstaff of the duke of Austria fell into the Nile, and

the banner of the Christians remained in the hands of the Mussulmans.

At this sight the Saracens uttered the most extravagant cries of joy,

whilst groans and sounds of grief were heard along the shore on which

the Crusaders were encamped; the patriarch of Jerusalem, the clergy,

the whole army, fell on their knees, and raised their supplicating

hands towards heaven.

But soon, as if God had been favourable to their prayers, the flames

were extinguished, the machine was repaired, the drawbridge was

replaced, and the companions of Leopold renewed the attack with more

ardour than ever. From the top of their fortress they commanded

the walls of the tower, and dealt mighty blows with sabre, spear,

battle-axe, and iron mace. Two soldiers sprang upon the platform upon

which the Saracens defended themselves; they carried terror among the

besieged, who descended tumultuously to the first stage of the tower;

the latter set fire to the floor, and endeavoured to oppose a rampart

of flames between themselves and the enemies who rushed down in pursuit

of them; but these last efforts of despair and bravery presented but a

vain resistance to the Christian soldiers. The Mussulmans were attacked

in all parts of the tower; and their walls, shaken by the machines,

appeared to be sinking around them, and about to bury them beneath the

ruins: in this hopeless condition they laid down their arms, and sued

to their conquerors for life.

After this memorable victory, the Christians, masters of the tower of

the Nile, broke the chain which impeded the passage of vessels, and

their fleet was able to approach close to the ramparts of the city.

About the same time (September, 1217) Malek-Adel, who had rendered

himself so formidable to the Christians, died in the capital of Egypt.

He heard before his death of the victory which the Christians had

gained at Damietta; and the Crusaders did not fail to say that he had

sunk under the effects of despair, and that he carried with him to the

tomb the power and glory of the Mussulmans.

The Christians, in their histories, have represented Malek-Adel as an

ambitious, cruel, and stern prince; Oriental writers celebrate his

piety and mildness. An Arabian historian boasts of his love of justice

and truth,[213] and paints, by a single trait, the moderation of the

absolute monarchs of Asia, when he says, “that the brother of Saladin

listened without anger to that which displeased him.”

Historians unite in praising the bravery of the Mussulman prince,

and the ability he displayed in the execution of all his designs. No

prince knew better how to make himself obeyed, or to give to supreme

power that brilliant exterior which strikes the imagination of nations,

and disposes them to submission. In his court, he always appeared

surrounded with the pomp of the East: his palace was as a sanctuary

which no one durst approach: he rarely appeared in public; when he

did, it was in a manner to inspire fear: as he was fortunate in all

his undertakings, the Mussulmans had no difficulty in believing that

the favourite of fortune was the favourite of Heaven: the caliph of

Bagdad sent ambassadors to salute him _king of kings_. Malek-Adel was

pleased to be styled in camps Seïf Eddin[214] (the sword of religion),

and this glorious name, which he had merited by his contests with the

Christians, drew upon him the love and confidence of the soldiers of

Islamism. He astonished the East by his abdication, as much as he had

astonished it by his victories; the surprise he excited only added

to his glory as well as to his power; and, that his destiny might

in everything be extraordinary, fortune decreed that when he had

descended from the throne, he should still remain master. His fifteen

sons, of whom several were sovereigns, still trembled before him;

nations prostrated themselves on his passage; up to the very hour in

which he closed his eyes, his presence, his name only, maintained peace

in his family and the provinces, and order and discipline in the armies.

At his death the face of everything began to change; the empire of

the Ayoubites, which he had sustained by his exploits, gave tokens

of decline; the ambition of the emirs, for a long time restrained,

broke out into conspiracies against the supreme authority; a spirit of

license began to be apparent in the Mussulman armies, and particularly

among the troops that defended Egypt.

The Crusaders ought to have profited by the death of Malek-Adel, and

the consequences it was sure to produce, by attacking the discouraged

Mussulmans without intermission. But instead of following up their

success, after they had obtained possession of the Tower of the Nile,

they all at once neglected the labours of the siege, and appeared

to have fallen asleep over their first victories. A great number of

them, persuaded that they had done enough for the cause of Christ,

only thought of embarking to return into Europe. Every vessel that

left the port recalled to the pilgrims remembrances of home; and the

beautiful sky of Damietta, which had inflamed their imaginations at

the commencement of the siege, was not sufficient to retain them in a

country which they began to consider as a place of exile.

The clergy, however, warmly censured the retreat and desertion of

the Crusaders, and implored Heaven to punish the base soldiers who

thus abandoned the standards of the cross. Six thousand pilgrims from

Brittany, who were returning to Europe, were shipwrecked on the coast

of Italy, and almost all perished; and the ecclesiastics, with the most

ardent of the Crusaders, did not fail to see, in so great a disaster, a

manifestation of divine anger. When the Crusaders of Friesland, after

having deserted the banners of the Holy Land, had returned into the

West, the ocean all at once broke through the dykes, and overflowed its

customary boundaries; the richest provinces of Holland were submerged,

and a hundred thousand inhabitants, with whole cities, disappeared

beneath the waters. Many Christians attributed this calamity to the

culpable retreat of the Frieson and Dutch Crusaders.

The pope beheld with pain the return of the pilgrim deserters from the

cause of Christ. Honorius neglected nothing to secure the success of

a war he had preached; and he every day, both by prayers and threats,

pressed the departure of those who, after having taken the cross,

delayed the accomplishment of their vow.

According to the usual custom of navigators, two periods of the year

were fixed upon at which it was best to cross the sea. The pilgrims

almost always embarked in the month of March and in the month of

September, whether to repair to the East or to return to Europe; which

caused them to be compared to those birds of passage that change their

climate at the approach of a new season, and towards the end of fine

weather.[215] At each passage, the Mediterranean was covered with

vessels which transported Crusaders, some returning to their homes,

others going to fight the infidels. At the very moment the Christians

were deploring the loss of the Frieson and Dutch warriors, their

spirits were restored by seeing Crusaders from Germany, Pisa, Genoa,

Venice, and several provinces of France, arrive in the camp at Damietta.

Among the French warriors, history names Hervé, count of Nevers; Hugh,

count de la Marche; Miles de Bar-sur-Seine; the lords John of Artois

and Ponce de Crancey; Ithier de Thacy, and Savary de Mauléon; they

were accompanied by the archbishop of Bordeaux, the bishops of Angers,

Autun, Beauvais, Paris, Meaux, Noyon, &c. England also sent the bravest

of her knights into Egypt. Henry III. had taken the cross after the

council of the Lateran; but as he could not quit his dominions, at that

time a prey to civil wars and torn by discord, the earls of Harcourt,

Chester, and Arundel, with Prince Oliver,[216] were honoured with the

charge of acquitting, in his name, the vow he had taken to fight in the

East for the cause of Christ.

At the head of the pilgrims who arrived at that time in Egypt were

two cardinals, whom the pope had sent to the Christian army. Robert

de Courçon, one of the preachers of the crusade, was charged with the

mission of inculcating the moral precepts of Christ in the camp of the

Crusaders, and animating the zeal and devotion of the soldiers by his

eloquence. Cardinal Pelagius, bishop of Albano, was invested with the

entire confidence of the Holy See; he brought with him the treasures

that were to defray the expenses of the war; the Crusaders from Rome

and several other cities of Italy marched under his orders, and

recognised him as their military leader.

Cardinal Pelagius, by his position, was endowed with great authority

in the Christian army, and his naturally imperious character led him

to assume even more power than he had received from the Holy See. In

whatever affair he was employed, he acknowledged no equal, and would

not endure a superior. He had been known to oppose the sovereign

pontiff in the bosom of the conclave; he would have resisted the most

powerful monarchs, even in their own councils. Cardinal Pelagius,

persuaded that Providence meant to make use of him to accomplish great

designs, believed himself fit for all works, and appointed to all

kinds of glory; when he had formed a determination, he maintained it

with invincible obstinacy, and was influenced by neither obstacles nor

perils, nor even by the lessons of experience. If Pelagius originated

any advice in council, he supported it with all the menaces of the

court of Rome, and often gave cause for a belief that the thunders of

the Church had only been confided to his hands, that he might secure

the triumph of his own opinions.

Pelagius had scarcely arrived in Egypt, when, as legate of the pope,

he disputed the command of the army with John of Brienne. To support

his pretensions, he asserted that the Crusaders had taken up arms at

the desire of the sovereign pontiff; that they were the soldiers of

the Church, and ought to recognise no other head than the legate of

the Holy See: these assumptions gave great offence to the barons and

principal leaders. From that time it was easy to foresee that discord

would be introduced by him whose mission it was to establish peace;

and that the envoy of the pope, charged to preach humility among

Christians, was about to ruin everything by his mad presumption.[217]

Cardinal de Courçon died shortly after his arrival.

The continuator of William of Tyre, whilst deploring the death of this

legate, who had been remarkable for his moderation, characterizes, by a

single word, the conduct of Pelagius, and the consequences that might

be expected from it, by saying: “Then died Cardinal Peter, and Pelagius

lived, which was a great pity.”

In the mean time, the approach of danger had reunited the Mussulman

princes. The caliph of Bagdad, whom James of Vitri[218] styles _the

pope of the infidels_, exhorted the nations to take up arms against

the Christians. All the sons of Malek-Adel, who reigned over the

provinces of Syria and of Yemen, prepared to march to the assistance

of Egypt. The sultan of Damascus, after having made several incursions

into the territories of Ptolemaïs, gathered together his whole army,

and resolved to go and defend Damietta. As he had reason to fear the

Christians might take advantage of his absence to seize Jerusalem and

fortify themselves in it, he caused the ramparts of the holy city to be

demolished. He also ordered the fortress of Tabor, and all those that

the Mussulmans held along the coasts of Palestine, to be destroyed; a

vigorous measure that afflicted the infidels, but was calculated to

afflict the Christians still more; as it proved to them that they had

to contend with enemies animated by despair, and disposed to sacrifice

everything to secure their own safety.

The sultan of Cairo encamped in the vicinity of Damietta, where he

awaited the princes of his family. The garrison of the city received

every day provisions and reinforcements, and was in a condition to

resist the Christian army for a length of time. The preparations and

the approach of the Mussulmans at length roused the Crusaders from

their state of inaction. Animated by their leaders, but more by the

appearance of danger and the presence of a formidable enemy; still led

by the king of Jerusalem, who had resisted the pretensions of Pelagius,

the Christian soldiers resumed the labours of the siege and made

several assaults upon the city on the river side. The winter, which had

just set in, did not at all prevent their attacks; nothing could equal

the heroic constancy with which they braved, during several months,

cold, rain, hunger, all the fatigues of war, and all the rigours of the

season. A contagious malady committed great ravages in the Christian

army: a frightful storm, which lasted three days, carried away the

tents and the baggage of both leaders and soldiers; but nothing

diminished the fury of the contests, which were incessantly renewed.

At length the Christians, having become masters of all the western

bank of the Nile, determined to cross the river, and attack the city

on the land side. The passage was difficult and dangerous; the sultan

of Cairo had fixed his camp on the opposite shore; the plain on which

the Crusaders wished to pitch their tents was covered with Mussulman

soldiers; an unexpected event removed all obstacles.

We have spoken of the seditious spirit of the emirs, who, since the

death of Malek-Adel, had openly shown their ambitious designs and

sought to introduce divisions into the Mussulman armies. The most

remarkable among these emirs, was the leader of a troop of Curds, named

Emad-eddin,[219] who had taken a part in all the revolutions of Egypt

and Syria. Associated with the destinies of the sons of Ayoub, this

emir had witnessed the rise and fall of several Mussulman dynasties,

and held in contempt the powers of which he knew both the source and

the origin. An intrepid soldier, a faithless subject, always ready

to serve his sovereigns in fight or betray them in a conspiracy,

Emad-eddin could not endure a prince who reigned by the laws of peace,

or recognise a power which was not the fruit of his intrigues or of a

revolution. As fortune had always favoured his audacity, and as all

his treacheries had been well rewarded, every fresh revolt augmented

his credit and his renown; an enemy to all acknowledged authority, the

hope of all who aspired to empire, he was almost as redoubtable as the

Old Man of the Mountain, whose menaces made the most powerful monarchs

tremble. Emad-eddin resolved to change the government of Egypt, and

conceived the project of dethroning the sultan of Cairo, and replacing

him by another of the sons of Malek-Adel.

Several emirs were drawn into this conspiracy. On the day appointed,

they were to enter the tent of Melic-Kamel, and compel him, by

violence, to renounce the supreme authority. The sultan was warned of

the plot prepared against him, and on the eve of the day on which it

was to be carried into effect, he left his camp in the middle of the

night. The next day, at dawn, the conspirators were made aware that

their designs had been discovered; they endeavoured in vain to draw the

soldiers into a revolt; the greatest confusion prevailed throughout the

camp; among the emirs, some gathered around Emad-eddin, and swore to

follow his fortunes; others, doubtful of the success of his enterprise,

remained silent; many took an oath to defend Melic-Kamel. Amidst these

debates, the Mussulman army, conscious that they were without a leader,

feared they might be surprised by the Christians. A panic terror all

at once seized upon the soldiers, who abandoned their tents and their

baggage, and rushed in the greatest disorder in the traces of their

fugitive sultan.

This retreat, of which the Christians could not imagine the cause, and

which their historians explain by a miracle from heaven,[220] opened

to them the passage of the Nile. The army hastened to cross the river,

took possession of the Mussulman camp, made an immense booty, and drew

near to the walls of Damietta.

The panic, however, which had put the Mussulman troops to flight,

had not at all communicated itself to the garrison of the city: this

intrepid garrison offered the most vigorous resistance, and gave the

army of Melic-Kamel[221] time to recover from its fright. The sultan

of Damascus soon joined his brother the sultan of Cairo. Emad-eddin

and the other leaders of the conspiracy were arrested and loaded with

chains. Order and discipline were reëstablished among the Saracens, and

the Christian army had to contend with all the united forces of the

infidels, impatient to repair their check, and recover the advantages

they had lost.

The burning days of summer were approaching: the Nile, increased by the

rains of the tropics, began to issue from its bed. The Christian army

was encamped under the walls of Damietta, having the lake Menzaleh in

its rear. The Saracens came and pitched their tents at a short distance

from the camp of the Christians, who, oppressed by the consuming heat

of the season and the climate, were subject every day to the spirited

attacks of the infidels. In one of these conflicts, the Mussulmans got

possession of a bridge which the Crusaders had thrown over the Nile;

the banks of the river were covered with dead, and the Christian army

only owed its safety to the heroic bravery of the duke of Austria, the

king of Jerusalem, and the grand masters of St. John and the Temple.

Soon after, another battle was fought still more bloody than the

first. In this fight, as it is described by James of Vitri, an ocular

witness, not a person among the Christians was idle: the clergy were

at prayers or attending the wounded; whilst the women and children

carried water, wine, food, stones, and javelins, to the combatants.

Whirlwinds of scorching dust arose in the air, and enveloped the two

armies. The cries of the wounded and the dying, the sound of the

trumpets, and the clashing of arms resounded from the neighbouring

hills and from both shores of the Nile. Sometimes the Saracens were

put to flight, and whole battalions, says James of Vitri, disappeared

submerged in the Nile, as formerly the armies of Pharaoh perished in

the Red Sea. Sometimes the Christians were repulsed in their turn,

and left a great number of their warriors on the field of battle: the

carnage lasted during the whole day, without either side being able

to claim the victory. Whilst the two armies were contending with such

fury on the banks, the Genoese and the Pisans, on board their vessels,

made an attack upon the ramparts of the city. Several of their ships

were consumed by the Greek fire, and the bravest of their soldiers

were crushed beneath the beams and stones hurled from the top of the

walls. At the approach of night the Crusaders returned to their tents,

despairing of ever being able to subdue the Saracens, and reproaching

each other with want of courage in this unfortunate day.

On the morrow fresh disputes arose between the horse and foot

soldiers,[222] each of which bodies accused the other with having

been the cause of the losses the army had experienced. These debates

became so warm that at length the foot and the horse both demanded,

with loud cries, to be led again to battle, and rushed tumultuously out

of the camp, to give convincing proofs of their bravery; the leaders

could neither restrain nor direct the ardour and impetuosity of their

soldiers, who fought in disorder, and were repulsed by the Saracens

after a horrible carnage.

At this period a holy person, named Francis of Assise, made his

appearance in the Christian army, whose reputation for piety was spread

throughout the Christian world, and had preceded him into the East.

From his earliest youth, Francis had left the paternal roof to lead

a life of edification. One day, whilst present at mass in a church

in Italy, he was struck with the passage of the Gospel in which our

Saviour says, “Take with you neither gold nor silver, nor other moneys;

neither scrips for the journey, nor sandals, nor staff.” From that

period Francis had held in contempt all the riches of this world,

and had devoted himself to the poverty of the apostles; he travelled

through countries and cities, exhorting all people to penitence. The

disciples who followed him braved the contempt of the multitude, and

glorified themselves with it before God: when asked whence they came,

they were accustomed to answer, “We are poor penitents from Assise.”

Francis was led into Egypt by the fame of the crusade, and by the

hope of there effecting some great conversion. The day preceding the

last battle, he had a miraculous presentiment of the defeat of the

Christians, and imparted his prediction to the leaders of the army,

who heard him with indifference. Dissatisfied with the Crusaders, and

devoured by the zeal of a mission from God, he then conceived the

project of securing the triumph of the faith by his eloquence and the

arms of the Gospel alone. He directed his course towards the enemy’s

camp, put himself in the way of being taken prisoner by the Saracen

soldiers, and was conducted into the presence of the sultan. Then

Francis addressed Melic-Kamel,[223] and said to him, “It is God who

sends me towards you, to point out to you the road to salvation.” After

these words, the missionary exhorted the sultan[224] to embrace the

Gospel; he challenged in his presence all the doctors of the law, and

to confound imposture and prove the truth of the Christian religion,

offered to cast himself into the midst of a burning funeral-pile. The

sultan, astonished, ordered the zealous preacher from his presence, who

obtained neither of the objects of his wishes, for he did not convert

the sultan, nor did he gather the palm of martyrdom.

After this adventure, St. Francis returned to Europe, where he founded

the religious order of the Cordeliers, who at first, possessing neither

churches, monasteries, lands, nor flocks, spread themselves throughout

the West, labouring for the conversion of penitents. The disciples of

St. Francis sometimes carried the word of God among savage nations;

some went into Africa and Asia, seeking, as their master had done,

errors to confute and evils to endure; they frequently planted the

cross of Christ upon the lands of the infidels, and in their harmless

pilgrimages, constantly repeated the scriptural words, _Peace be with

you_; they were only armed with their prayers, and aspired to no glory

but that of dying for the faith.

The Crusaders had been encamped seventeen months before the walls of

Damietta, and not a single day had passed without a murderous conflict.

The Mussulmans, although they had obtained some advantages, began to

lose all hope of triumphing over an enemy proof against the evils of

war and an unhealthy climate. Report proclaimed the approaching arrival

of the emperor of Germany, who had taken the cross, and this news,

whilst it sustained the courage of the Christians, made the Mussulmans

tremble at the idea of having to contend with the most powerful of the

monarchs of the West. The sultan of Damascus, in the name of all the

princes of his family, sent ambassadors to the camp of the Crusaders

to ask for peace. He offered to abandon to the Franks the city and

kingdom of Jerusalem, and only to reserve to themselves the places of

Krak and Montréal, for which they proposed to pay a tribute. As the

ramparts and towers of the holy city had been recently destroyed, the

Mussulmans engaged to pay two hundred thousand dinars to re-establish

them; they further agreed to give up all Christians made prisoners

since the death of Saladin.

The principal leaders of the Christian army were called together to

deliberate upon the proposals of the Mussulmans. The king of Jerusalem,

the French barons, the English, Dutch, and Germans, were of opinion

that the terms should be acceded to, and the peace accepted: the king

of Jerusalem would regain his kingdom, and the barons of the West would

see the happy end of a war that had detained them so long from their

homes.

“By accepting the peace they attained the object of the crusade,—the

deliverance of the holy places. The Christian warriors had besieged

Damietta during seventeen months, and the siege might be still

prolonged. Many Crusaders daily returned to Europe; whilst crowds of

Mussulman warriors as constantly joined the standards of the sultans

of Cairo and Damascus. If they should take Damietta, they would be but

too happy to exchange it for Jerusalem. The Mussulmans offered to give,

before victory, quite as much as they could demand after having subdued

them. It was not wise to refuse that which fortune offered to bestow

upon them without conflicts or perils. The effusion of blood should be

avoided, and they ought to reflect, that victories purchased by the

death of the soldiers of the cross, were such as were most acceptable

to the God of the Christians.”

The king of Jerusalem and most of the barons spoke thus, and

endeavoured to bring to their opinion the Italian nobles and the body

of the prelates, whom Cardinal Pelagius led in an opposite direction.

The legate of the pope regarded himself as the head of this war, and

he wished it to continue, in order to prolong his power and to procure

for him additional renown. “He could see nothing in the proposals of

the enemy but a new artifice to delay the capture of Damietta, and gain

time. The Saracens offered nothing but desert countries and demolished

cities, which would fall again into their power. Their only object was

to disarm the Christians, and furnish them with a pretext for returning

into the West. Things had gone too far to allow them to retreat without

dishonour. It was disgraceful for Christians to renounce the conquest

of a city they had besieged seventeen months, and which could hold

out no longer. They must take possession of it first, and then they

should know what was best to be done—once masters of Damietta, the

Crusaders might conclude a glorious peace, and reap all the advantages

of victory.”

The motives alleged by Cardinal Pelagius were not unreasonable, but the

spirit of party and faction reigned in the council of the leaders of

the crusade. As it always happens in similar circumstances, every one

formed his opinion not upon that which he believed to be useful and

just, but upon that which appeared most favourable to the party he had

embraced; some advised that the siege should be prosecuted, because the

king of Jerusalem had offered a contrary opinion; others wished the

proposed capitulation should be accepted, because this capitulation

was rejected by the legate of the pope. The Christian army exhibited a

strange spectacle. On one side, John of Brienne and the most renowned

warriors were advocates for peace; on the other, the legate and most of

the ecclesiastics demanded with great warmth the continuation of the

war: they deliberated during several days without a chance of bringing

the two parties to an agreement; and whilst the discussions became more

intemperate, hostilities were renewed: then all the Crusaders united to

prosecute the siege of Damietta.

The sultan of Cairo employed every means to throw succours into the

city, and keep up the courage of the garrison and the inhabitants.

Some Mussulman soldiers, taking advantage of the darkness of night,

attempted to effect an entrance into the place; a few were able to

gain and pass through the gates, but by far the greater number were

surprised and massacred by the Crusaders, who kept constant and close

watch around the walls.

The news which the sultan, Melic-Kamel, received from Damietta, became

every day more alarming, the Mussulman army, not daring to succour

the besieged, remained inactive, and confined themselves to the

defence of their own intrenchments. Communication was soon entirely

cut off between the place and the camp of the infidels; some divers

crossed the Nile through the Christian fleet, attained Damietta, and

returned to inform the sultan that pestilence, famine, and despair

reigned throughout the city. The Mussulmans had recourse to all sorts

of stratagems to convey food to the garrison; sometimes they filled

leather sacks with provisions, which, being abandoned to the stream

of the Nile, floated under the ramparts of the city; at others, they

concealed loaves in the sheets that enveloped dead bodies, which,

being borne on by the waters, were stopped in their course by the

besieged. It was not long before these stratagems were discovered by

the Christians, and then famine began to make horrible ravages; the

soldiers, overcome by fatigue and weakened by hunger, had not the

strength to fight or guard the towers and ramparts. The inhabitants,

given up to despair, abandoned their houses, and fled from a city that

presented nothing but images of death: many came to implore the pity of

the Crusaders. The commander of Damietta, whose name history has not

preserved, in vain endeavoured to keep up the courage of the people and

the soldiers. To prevent desertion, he caused the gates of the city to

be walled up; and from that period neither the sultan of Cairo nor the

Crusaders were able to know what was passing in the besieged place, in

which a dismal silence reigned, and which, according to the expression

of an Arabian author, _was no longer anything but a closed sepulchre_.

The Christians had placed their machines at the foot of a tower, and as

they saw no one defending it, the legate, at the head of the Italian

Crusaders, took advantage of a dark and stormy night to penetrate

within the first inclosure of the walls. The king of Jerusalem and the

other leaders resolved at the same time to make an assault and enter

the city, sword in hand. As soon as day appeared, the boldest ascended

into the tower, which they found deserted, and called aloud upon their

companions to join them. The Christian army applauded their success,

and answered by shouts of joy; the soldiers flew to arms, and instantly

put the rams in motion. The walls were scaled, the gates were beaten to

pieces, and a passage opened; the eager Crusaders rushed forward with

naked swords and ready lances to encounter the enemy; but when they

penetrated into the streets, a pestilential odour enveloped them, and a

frightful spectacle made them recoil with horror! The public places,

the mosques, the houses, the whole city, were strewed with dead![225]

Old age, infancy, ripened manhood, maiden beauty, matronly grace—all

had perished in the horrors of the siege! At the arrival of the

Crusaders, Damietta contained seventy thousand inhabitants; of these

only three thousand of the most robust remained, who, ready to expire,

glided like pale, fading shadows among tombs and ruins.

This horrible spectacle touched the hearts of the Crusaders, and

mingled a feeling of sadness with the joy their victory created. The

conquerors found in Damietta immense stores of spices, diamonds,

and precious stuffs. When they had pillaged the city, it might have

been believed, says an historian, that the warriors of the West had

conquered Persia, Arabia, and the Indies. The ecclesiastics launched

the thunders of excommunication against all who secreted any part of

the booty; but these menaces had no effect upon the cupidity of the

soldiers: all the wealth brought to the public stock only produced two

hundred thousand crowns, which were distributed among the troops of the

victorious army.

Damietta boasted a celebrated mosque, ornamented by six vast galleries

and a hundred and fifty columns of marble, surmounted by a superb dome,

which towered above all the other edifices of the city. This mosque, in

which, on the preceding evening, Mussulmans had lifted their imploring,

tearful eyes to their prophet, was consecrated to the virgin mother of

Christ, and the whole Christian army came thither to offer up thanks

to Heaven for the triumph granted to arms. On the following day the

barons and prelates assembled in the same place, to deliberate upon

their conquest; and, by a unanimous resolution, the city of Damietta

was assigned to the king of Jerusalem. They then turned their attention

to the fate of the unfortunate inhabitants who had escaped pestilence

and famine. James of Vitri, when describing the miseries of Damietta,

and speaking of the horrible famine which swept away so many families

during the siege, sheds tears over the little children who in vain

asked their dead parents for bread.[226] The fate of such of those as

remained alive inspired the virtuous bishop of Ptolemaïs with pity,

and he purchased many of them, in order to have them baptized and

brought up in the Christian religion. The pious charity of the prelate,

however, could only procure them eternal life, for they almost all

died after having been baptised. All the Mussulmans who had sufficient

strength to work received liberty and bread, and were employed in

cleansing and purifying the city. Whilst the leaders were thus watching

over a mourning city, and gave their anxious attentions to prevent new

calamities, the spectacle that Damietta presented, and the empoisoned

air they breathed within its walls, obliged the Christian army to

return to their camp, and wait for the time at which the conquered city

might be inhabited without danger.

When the news of the taking of Damietta was spread through Syria and

Upper Egypt, the Mussulman nations, seized with terror, flew to their

mosques to implore the intervention of their prophet against the

enemies of Islamism. The sultans of Cairo and Damascus sent ambassadors

to the caliph of Bagdad, conjuring him to exhort all true believers to

take arms to defend the religion of Mahomet. The caliph contemplated

with grief the calamities about to fall upon the princes of the family

of Saladin; but other dangers threatened him more nearly. Tartar hordes

had issued from their mountains, invaded several provinces of Persia,

and were advancing towards the Euphrates. The caliph, far from being

able to assist the Mussulmans of Syria and Egypt by his prayers and

exhortations, invoked their succour to defend his capital, and turn

aside the storm ready to burst over the whole East. When the Mussulman

ambassadors returned to Damascus and Cairo, their accounts added new

alarms to those which the conquests of the Christians had already

inspired.

The Ayoubite princes, however, did not delay endeavouring to unite all

their efforts against the Crusaders, postponing, to a more favourable

moment, the defence of the head of Islamism. The Mussulman nations

had a much greater dread of the invasion of the Christians than of

the irruptions of the hordes of Tartary. The conquerors whom nations

fear the most, are those that desire to change the laws and religion

of the conquered country. The Tartars, whose habits and manners were

not formed, easily complied with those of the people they subdued;

the Christians, on the contrary, only made war to destroy all and

enslave all. Already rich cities, great provinces, were in their power:

everything had changed its form under their domination. Thus the

Mussulman princes and people, from the Euphrates to the Red Sea, forgot

or neglected the storm which growled over Persia and was advancing

slowly towards Syria, and resolved to take arms against the Crusaders,

who were masters of the Nile.

After the taking of Damietta, the Mussulman soldiers who defended

Egypt were struck with such excessive fear, that, during several days,

not one of them durst face a Christian soldier. The Egyptian warriors

who guarded the fortress of Tannis, built beyond the lake Menzaleh,

abandoned their ramparts at the approach of a few Crusaders, and thus

one of the firmest bulwarks of the Mussulman empire fell without

defence into the hands of the Franks. From that time, the Christians

had reason to believe they had no more enemies on the banks of the

Nile; and, during the rigours of winter, many of the pilgrims returned

to Europe. Half the army took advantage of the March passage to quit

Egypt; such as remained under the banners of the crusade forgot the

labours and perils of war, and gave themselves up to indulgence and

voluptuousness, to all the pleasure which the approach of spring, and

the fine climate and beautiful sky of Damietta inspired.

During the leisure of peace, the divisions which had so often

interrupted the course of the war, soon revived; the taking of Damietta

had inflamed the pride of Cardinal Pelagius, who, in the Christian

army, spoke as a conqueror and commanded as a master. The king of

Jerusalem was so dissatisfied, that he abandoned a city that had been

given to him, and quitted an army of which he was the head, to retire

to Ptolemaïs.

New Crusaders, however, eager to signalize their valour against the

Mussulmans, arrived daily. The duke of Bavaria, with four hundred

German knights and barons, sent by Frederick II., landed on the banks

of the Nile. A short time afterwards, the Christian army received

into its ranks Crusaders from Milan, Pisa, and Genoa, and prelates

and archbishops conducted a crowd of defenders of the cross, who came

from the various provinces of Germany, and from France and Italy.

The sovereign pontiff had neglected nothing to secure the success of

the holy war; he sent to Cardinal Pelagius provisions for the army,

and a considerable sum of money, partly from his own treasury, and

partly from the charity of the faithful of the West.[227] The legate

was desirous of profiting by the succours he had just received, and

proposed to follow up the war, and march directly against the capital

of Egypt. The clergy adopted the advice of Pelagius, but such of the

Crusaders as saw with disgust a prelate at the head of warriors,

refused to take up arms. The duke of Bavaria and the barons and knights

would acknowledge no leader but the king of Jerusalem; the legate

Pelagius was obliged to send deputies to John of Brienne, who, pressed

by the pope himself, was at length prevailed upon, and consented, after

an absence of several months, to come back and take the command of the

army.

Whilst the Crusaders remained thus in inaction, all the Mussulmans

were flying to arms: the sultans of Damascus and Aleppo, the princes

of Hamah, Balbec, and of Arabia, assembled fresh armies. After the

taking of Damietta, the sultan of Cairo had retired, with his troops,

to the spot where the two eastern branches of the Nile separate:

there he daily beheld troops of Mussulman warriors join his standard,

and, awaiting a favourable opportunity, he constructed a palace in the

centre of his camp, surrounded by walls.

The Mussulmans there built houses, baths, and bazaars, and the camp of

the sultan became a city, called Mansourah, which was destined to be

celebrated in history by the defeat and ruin of the Christian armies.

As soon as the king of Jerusalem returned to Damietta, the leaders of

the Crusaders assembled in council, to deliberate upon what they had

to do: the legate of the pope was the first to offer his opinion, and

proposed to march against the capital of Egypt. “We must attack the

evil at its source, and, in order to conquer the Saracens, destroy

the foundation of their power. Egypt supplies them with soldiers,

provisions, and arms. By taking possession of Egypt, we should cut

off all their resources. At no period were the soldiers of the cross

animated by more zeal; never were the infidels more depressed. To lose

such an opportunity was to betray the common cause. When a great empire

was attacked, prudence commanded the assailants not to lay down their

arms till they had subdued it; by stopping after the first victory,

they exhibited more weakness than moderation. The eyes of the whole

Christian world were upon the army of the Crusaders; it was not only

the deliverance of the holy places that was looked for from their

valour, but the death of all the enemies of Christ, the destruction of

every nation that had imposed a sacrilegious yoke upon the city of God.”

The bishops, the prelates, and most of the ecclesiastics were loud in

their applause of the speech of the legate; but John of Brienne, who

did not at all partake of their opinion, arose, and protesting his

devotion to the cause of Christ, began by appealing to the assembly,

if any one could be more interested in the conquests of the Christians

in the East, than the man who had the honour to be king of Jerusalem.

He then pointed out how imprudent it would be to go up the Nile at the

very moment at which that river was beginning to overflow, and would

most likely inundate the roads which led to Cairo. “Mark,” said he,

“all the perils of the expedition proposed to you. We are to march

into an unknown land, through the midst of an enemy’s country: if

conquered, there can be no place of asylum for us; if conquerors, our

victories will only weaken our army. However easy it may be for us to

conquer provinces, it will be almost impossible for us to defend them.

The Crusaders, always eager to return to Europe, are incalculably more

serviceable in gaining battles than in securing the possession of

conquered countries. Nobody can suppose, that with the brave bands that

surround us, we entertain any fear of the Mussulman armies which are

gathering together from all parts; but in order to secure our safety,

we must not only subdue our enemies, we must destroy them—we have not

to deal with an army, but with an entire nation animated by despair.

The whole Mussulman race are about to become so many intrepid soldiers,

impatient to shed their blood in the field of battle. But what do I

say? we shall have much less to dread from their courage than from

their timid prudence. They will not fail to shun the fight, and will

wait until diseases, want, fatigue, discord, the inconstancy of men’s

minds, the overflowing of the Nile, and the heat of the climate shall

have triumphed over our efforts and secured the failure of all our

enterprises.”

John of Brienne strengthened his opinion by other motives, with which

his knowledge of the art of war supplied him, and terminated his speech

by saying, “That Damietta and Tannis were powerful enough to restrain

the people of Egypt; that it was necessary to recapture the cities they

had lost, before they thought of conquering countries that had never

been in their possession; and that, in short, they had not assembled

under the banners of the cross to besiege Thebes, Babylon, or Memphis,

but to deliver Jerusalem, which opened its gates to the Christians, and

which they could fortify against all the attacks of the infidels.”

This moderate and pacific language would well have become the mouth of

an envoy of the pope; but Pelagius listened to the king of Jerusalem

with the most evident impatience: he answered, that weakness and

timidity screened themselves behind the veil of moderation and

prudence; that Christ did not summon to his defence such wise and

far-sighted soldiers, but warriors who sought for battle rather than

for reasons, and who could see the glory of an enterprise, and be

blind to its dangers. The legate added several more reasons to those

he had already advanced, and expressed them with great bitterness;

at length, led away by the heat of the discussion, he threatened

all those who did not partake of his opinions with excommunication.

Most of the leaders, and the king of Jerusalem himself, fearing to

be excommunicated, but dreading much more to see the least suspicion

cast upon their bravery, at length yielded to the obstinate will of

Pelagius: the council of the barons and the bishops decided that the

Christian army should leave Damietta, and march against the capital of

Egypt.

This army, composed of more than seventy thousand men, advanced up the

banks of the Nile. A numerous fleet, laden with provisions, arms, and

machines of war, ascended the river at the same time. The Christian

army passed through Farescour and several other villages, that had been

abandoned by their inhabitants; all fled away at the approach of the

Crusaders, who began to believe they should meet with no obstacle to

their victories, and celebrated, beforehand, the conquest of Memphis

and Cairo. The legate of the pope exulted in the resolution he had

dictated to the Christian army; and, full of confidence in a prediction

that had been made concerning him in his youth, the presumptuous

cardinal flattered himself that he was about to overthrow the worship

of Mahomet; and indulged in the most insulting railleries against those

who had been opposed to the war. Without fighting a single battle, the

Christians gained the extremity of the Delta, at the angle formed by

the arm of the river which descends towards Damietta and the canal of

Almon, whose waters flow into the sea on the eastern side. The Saracens

were encamped in the plain of Mansourah, on the opposite bank of the

river: the Crusaders halted on the hither shore, and their fleet cast

anchor as near to them as possible.

The sultan of Damascus, and the princes of Aleppo, Balbec, Hamah, and

Bosra, had united their troops with those of the sultan of Cairo.

The Nile, whose bank was covered with intrenchments, presented a

barrier very difficult to be overcome. But Melic-Kamel did not dare

to match himself with the Crusaders; dreading their rash bravery, so

accustomed to sport with perils and triumph over all obstacles. Reports

of the arrival of Frederick, and of the approach of the Tartars, kept

the Mussulmans in a continual state of alarm, and made them anxious

to terminate a war which exhausted their resources, consumed their

strength, and did not promise them, even in victory, a compensation for

so many efforts and so many sacrifices.

Ambassadors were sent to propose peace to the leaders of the Christian

army: the Mussulmans offered their enemies, if they would consent to an

entire cessation of hostilities, to give up to them Damietta and its

territories, and to restore Jerusalem, with all the places of Palestine

that had been conquered by Saladin.

These conditions assured to the Christians all the advantages of both

war and peace. The king of Jerusalem, and most of the barons, who saw

the difficulties and perils of the expedition they had entered upon,

listened with as much surprise as joy to the proposals of the infidels,

and did not hesitate to accept them; but they had absolutely no power

in the army. The legate, who exercised an arbitrary authority, and who

was constantly dreaming of conquests, persisted in thinking that these

pacific proposals were only the effects of fear, and that the enemy who

sued for peace was the one with whom war should be prosecuted with most

spirit.

The ambassadors returned to the camp of the Mussulmans, to announce

that the Christians refused the peace: their account excited

indignation, and indignation roused courage. When the Ayoubite princes

proposed peace, they were in possession of ample means to carry on the

war with advantage; they every day received reinforcements, and their

camp rapidly assumed a more formidable aspect; but soon a terrible

auxiliary, against whose attacks Pelagius had no defence, came to the

assistance of the Mussulmans, and procured them a complete triumph

without either battles or danger.

The Christian warriors, who flattered themselves they had now only to

deal with a conquered enemy, were satisfied with surrounding their camp

with a ditch and a wall; the army remained for several days in this

position, without making an effort either to attack the Saracens or

pass the Nile. Pelagius, who was constantly promising victory to his

soldiers, remained, nevertheless, in a state of inactivity in his tent.

During this period, many of the Crusaders grew weary of a war in which

no battles were fought; some fancied that the cause no longer stood in

need of their assistance; whilst others, with more foresight, feared

coming reverses: more than ten thousand Crusaders abandoned the camp

and returned to Damietta.

The Christian army had been for more than a month in face of the enemy,

always in expectation of the victories that had been promised to them.

At length, the overflowing of the Nile, in a most alarming manner,

disturbed their imagined security. The Saracens opened the sluices, and

filled all the canals of Lower Egypt. The Mussulman fleet, which had

not been able to ascend the Nile by Damietta, took advantage of the

canals, and came up with the Christian ships. In a single engagement,

the vessels of the Crusaders were almost all dispersed and consumed by

the Greek fire: from that moment terror seized upon the Christians,

for they were in want of provisions, and had neither means nor hopes

of obtaining any. The Saracens, after having crossed the Nile on

bridges, occupied all the circumjacent hills. The Christian soldiers

wandered about the fields at hazard, pursued by the waves of the rising

river, and by the Mussulmans, whose bravery they had so lately held

in contempt. The whole army was on the point of being submerged or

perishing with hunger, and had no hope but in the clemency of an enemy

with whom they had recently refused to make peace.

In this extremity, the king of Jerusalem and the principal leaders of

the Christians sent several of their knights to offer the Saracens

battle; but the latter were neither sufficiently imprudent, nor

sufficiently generous to accept a proposal dictated by despair. The

Crusaders were exhausted with hunger and fatigue; the cavalry sunk

into, and encumbered by mud and slime, could neither advance nor

retreat; the foot-soldiers cast away their arms; the baggage of the

army floated away upon the waters, and nothing was heard but groans and

lamentations. “When the Christian warriors,” says an Arabian historian,

“saw nothing before them but death, their minds sank into a state of

despondency, and their backs bent beneath the rod of God, _to whom be

all praise_!”

Pelagius must then have been sensible of the full extent of his error:

his project of marching to Cairo had, doubtless, something great in it,

if it could have been executed; but the presumptuous legate disdained

all counsels, all lessons of experience, and foresaw none of the

obstacles he was certain to meet with on his route; he conducted an

army filled with discontent; the soldiers had neither that confidence

nor that enthusiasm that leads men to brave dangers or cheerfully

encounter fatigue. The king of Jerusalem, the duke of Bavaria, and a

great number of the barons were his personal enemies, and took very

little interest in the success of an enterprise of which they had

disapproved.

Amidst the cries and lamentations of an army to which he had promised

victory, Pelagius was obliged to negotiate for peace, and his pride

humbled itself so far as to implore the clemency of the Saracens.

Christian ambassadors, among whom was the bishop of Ptolemaïs, went

to propose a capitulation to the conquerors; they offered to give up

the city of Damietta, and only asked for the Christian army liberty to

return to Ptolemaïs.

The Mussulman princes assembled in council to deliberate upon the

proposals of the Crusaders. Some were of opinion they should be

accepted; others declared that all the Christians ought to be made

prisoners of war. Among those who proposed the harshest measures, the

sultan of Damascus, an implacable enemy of the Franks, was conspicuous.

“No treaty can be made,” said he, “with warriors without humanity and

without faith. We should remember their barbarities in war and their

treachery in peace. They armed themselves to ravage provinces, to

destroy cities, and overthrow the worship of Mahomet. Since fortune

has placed these most cruel enemies of Islamism, these devastators of

the East, in the hands of _the true believers_, we ought to immolate

them to the safety of the Mussulman nations, and take an advantage of

our victory that will create a terror among the people of the West for

ever.”

Most of the princes and emirs, animated by fanaticism and vengeance,

applauded this violent speech. The sultan of Cairo, more moderate, and,

doubtless, more prescient than the other leaders, dreading likewise

the arrival of Frederick and the invasion of the Tartars, combated the

opinion of the sultan of Damascus, and advised that the capitulation

of the Franks should be accepted. “All the Franks were not comprised

in this army now in their power; other Crusaders guarded Damietta,

and might be able to defend it; the Mussulmans had sustained a siege

of eight months, the Christians might hold out as long. It was more

advantageous for the princes of the family of Saladin to return to

their cities than to retain a few of their enemies in chains. If they

destroyed one Christian army, the West, to avenge the defeat of its

warriors, was able to send numberless legions into the East. They

ought not to forget that the Mussulman armies had lost a portion of

that spirit of obedience and discipline that was the sole guarantee of

victory; that they were worn out with fatigue, and sighed for repose.

Other enemies than the now disarmed Christians, other perils than those

they had just escaped, might soon hang over both Syria and Egypt.[228]

It was wise to make peace at this moment, in order to prepare for

fresh contests, for new wars, perhaps much more cruel than that which

they had now an opportunity of terminating with so much glory to the

Mussulman arms.”

The speech of Melik-Kamel brought back the princes of his family to

sentiments of moderation.[229] The capitulation was accepted; the

sultan of Cairo sent his own son to the camp of the Christians as a

pledge for his word. The king of Jerusalem, the duke of Bavaria, the

legate of the pope, and the principal leaders repaired to the camp of

the Saracens, and remained as hostages till the accomplishment of the

treaty.

When the deputies of the imprisoned army came to Damietta and

announced the disasters and captivity of the Christians, their account

drew tears from the crowd of Crusaders who at that time arrived from

the West. When these same deputies informed them that the city must

be given up to the infidels, the most intrepid of the Franks could

not restrain their indignation, and refused to recognise a treaty so

disgraceful to the soldiers of the cross. The greatest tumult prevailed

throughout the city. Some, filled with despair, determined to return

to Europe, and prepared to desert the banners of the cross; others ran

towards the ramparts, and getting possession of the towers, swore to

defend them.

A few days after, fresh deputies arrived to declare that the king of

Jerusalem and the other leaders of the army would be obliged to give

up Ptolemaïs to the Mussulmans if they refused to surrender Damietta.

In order to overcome the obstinate resistance of those who wished to

defend the city, and who reproached the imprisoned army with disgracing

the Christians, they added, that this army, though defeated, had

obtained a prize worthy of their former exploits, for the Saracens had

engaged to restore to them the true cross of the Saviour, which had

fallen into the hands of Saladin at the battle of Tiberias. The fear of

losing Ptolemaïs, the hope of regaining the cross of Christ, together

with the speeches of the deputies, brought back the spirit of peace

and resignation to the minds of the most ardent of the Crusaders, and

disposed them to the performance of the conditions of the treaty.

In the mean time, the Christian army having lost their tents and their

baggage, passed many days and many nights in a plain covered with

the waters of the Nile. Hunger, disease, and inundation threatened

their entire destruction. The king of Jerusalem, then in the camp of

the Saracens, upon being informed of the horrible distress of the

Christians, went to conjure Melik-Kamel to have pity on his disarmed

enemies. The continuator of William of Tyre, who is our guide in

this part of our history, reports, in his old, quaint language, the

touching interview between John of Brienne and the sultan of Egypt.

“The king sat down before the sultan, and began to weep; the sultan,

on seeing the king weep, said, ‘Sire, why do you weep?’ ‘Sire, I have

good cause,’ replied the king, ‘for I behold the people whom God has

confided to me perishing amidst the waters, and dying with hunger.’ The

sultan felt great pity at seeing the king weep, and he wept also; then

he sent thirty thousand loaves to the poor as well as the rich; and

sent the same quantity daily during four days.”[230]

Melik-Kamel caused the sluices to be closed, and the waters rapidly

retired from the plain; as soon as Damietta was surrendered to the

Mussulmans, the Christian army began its retreat. The Crusaders, who

owed their liberty and lives to the mercy of the Saracens, passed

through the city which had cost them so many conflicts and so much

labour; and, weeping, quitted the banks of the Nile, where so short a

time before they had sworn to make the cause of Christ triumphant. They

bore away in sadness the wood of the true cross, the identity of which

they had reason to suspect, since it no longer performed miracles, and

was not for them now the signal of victory. The sultan of Egypt caused

them to be accompanied by his son, who had orders to provide for all

their wants on their route. The Saracen leaders were impatient to get

rid of an army that had threatened their empire; they could scarcely

give credit to their own triumph, and some little apprehension was,

no doubt, mingled with the pity with which their conquered enemies

inspired them.

Great rejoicings had been made at Ptolemaïs for the victories obtained

by the Christians on the banks of the Nile; they believed that they

already saw the holy places delivered, and the empire of the Saracens

destroyed. Consternation took place of their joy on seeing the army

return. As in all the other reverses which their arms had met with,

the Christians mutually reproached each other with their defeat; they

accused the leaders of ambition, and the king of Jerusalem of weakness;

the Templars and Hospitallers, who had on all occasions set an example

of courage and the most generous devotedness, were obliged to make a

public apology for their conduct. When it became known in the West

that Damietta had fallen again into the hands of the Saracens, all the

faithful were affected by the deepest grief,[231] and sought, by their

prayers, to mitigate the anger of Heaven. Violent murmurs arose against

the legate Pelagius, and represented him to the sovereign pontiff as

the author of all the disasters of the crusade; but Honorius was not

willing to condemn his minister, and reproached Frederick, who had

three times renewed his vow to fight against the infidels, with having

remained an idle spectator of an unfortunate war, and with having

neglected to succour his brethren of the East.

Frederick, who had sent vessels, provisions, and soldiers to the holy

war, thought that he had fully performed his part in the crusade, and

was at first much astonished at the reproaches of the Holy See. When

the pope threatened him with the anger of Heaven and the thunders of

Rome, he could not restrain his indignation; in his letters the emperor

complains bitterly of the tyranny of both Innocent and Honorius, and

talks of opposing war to war, and vengeance to injustice. After this,

Honorius, who acted less from the dictates of his own mind than after

the policy of his predecessors, changed his tone, attempted to justify

both Innocent and himself, and, employing prayers instead of menaces,

conjured Frederick to have pity on the Church of the East.

This paternal language appeased Frederick; in an interview which he had

with the pope at Veroli, the emperor of Germany repeated his vow to

repair to Palestine at the head of an army. In another assembly, which

was held some time afterwards at Verona, the pope endeavoured to engage

Frederick, on account of his own interests; he proposed to him to

espouse Yolande, daughter of John of Brienne, and heir to the kingdom

of Jerusalem. The grand masters of the Templars, the Hospitallers, and

the Teutonic order, with the patriarch and the king of Jerusalem, all

summoned to Italy to deliberate on the affairs of the crusade, approved

of a union which would secure them the assistance of a powerful

monarch. Frederick accepted a kingdom which he promised to defend, and

consented to undergo excommunication if he failed in his promises.

After the conference of Verona, King John of Brienne visited the

principal states of Europe, for the purpose of soliciting aid for the

Holy Land. At the time of John’s arrival in France, the French were

mourning the death of Philip Augustus. The king of Jerusalem assisted

at the funeral ceremonies of his master and benefactor, who, at his

death, had bequeathed three thousand silver marks to the defenders

of Palestine. After having paid the last duties to Philip, John went

first to England, and afterwards to Germany, in both of which countries

his presence and his discourses strongly moved Christians with the

misfortunes of the Holy Land.

The emperor Frederick, on his part, made all the requisite preparations

for an expedition which he was to lead in person; he ordered vessels

to be constructed in all the ports of Sicily for transporting the

Crusaders. “Heaven and earth,” wrote he to the pope, “are witnesses

that I desire the success of the Christian arms with my whole soul, and

that I will neglect nothing that can assist in securing the success

of the holy enterprise.” In all his letters Frederick exhorted the

sovereign pontiff to employ every means to augment the numbers of

the soldiers of Christ. Become, all at once, more zealous for the

crusade than the pope himself, he reproached the court of Rome with

being sparing in indulgences, and with confiding the preaching of the

crusade to vulgar orators; he advised the pope to redouble his efforts

to appease the quarrels of Christian princes, and to compel the kings

of France and England to sign a peace, in order that the nobles and

people of these two kingdoms might take part in the crusade. Frederick

not being able to go into Germany, sent thither the grand master of the

Teutonic order, with directions to exhort the landgrave of Thuringia,

the duke of Austria, the king of Hungary, and the other princes of the

empire, to take the oath to fight against the infidels. He undertook to

furnish the Crusaders with vessels, provisions, arms, and everything

necessary for the expedition beyond the sea; in short, he displayed

so much activity, and showed so much ardour and zeal, that all the

attention of the Christians was directed towards him, and he was

considered as the soul, the moving principle, and the head of the holy

enterprise.

The Christians of Palestine placed all their hopes in him; the

patriarch of Alexandria, in a letter to the pope, said that they looked

for the emperor of Germany on the banks of the Nile and the Jordan,

_as formerly the saints had looked for the coming of the Messiah or

Saviour of the world_. The patriarch spoke with grief of the oppression

and servitude that had been inflicted upon the Christians established

in Egypt since the last invasion of the Crusaders. The unfortunate

disciples of Christ were not allowed to keep in their dwellings either

arms or horses, nor even to bear a crucifix at the funeral processions

of their relations; a hundred and fifteen of their churches had been

destroyed since the conquest of Damietta. Oppressed by tributes,[232]

condemned to disgraceful labours, banished from their homes, wandering

around their temples and their altars, they invoked the mercy of Heaven

and the valour of the warriors of the West for their deliverance.

The report of Frederick’s preparations was spread even to the remote

nations of Georgia; and the queen of that country wrote to the head

of the Church of Rome, that the constable of her kingdom and a

great number of warriors only waited for the arrival of the emperor

of Germany, to fly to the assistance of Palestine. The Georgians

had the reputation of being a warlike people, and were dreaded by

the Mussulmans; their pilgrims enjoyed the privilege of entering

Jerusalem without paying the tribute imposed upon other Christians.

When the sultan of Damascus caused the ramparts of the holy city to

be destroyed, the warriors of Georgia swore to avenge the outrage

committed on the city of God; but an invasion of the Tartars prevented

them from leaving their own territories.[233] Since that period,

the hordes of Tartary having directed their ravages towards other

countries, the Crusaders of Caucasus and the shores of the Caspian Sea

promised to unite themselves in the plains of Syria and Egypt, with the

Crusaders from the banks of the Rhine and the Danube.

Frederick, however, was not yet in a position to perform his so often

repeated promises; the kingdom of Sicily and Naples contained germs of

discord and rebellion; the republics of Lombardy were openly opposed to

the emperor of Germany; and the Holy See, which observed with anxiety

the ambitious projects of Frederick upon Italy, encouraged all the

enemies of a power of which it dreaded the too close neighbourhood.

Thus, the policy of the court of Rome, the revolts of Sicily, and the

enterprises of the Italian republics, would not allow the emperor

to lead his armies into Asia. Frederick demanded of the pope the

indulgence of a delay of two years for the performance of his vow;

founding his request upon the length of time required for assembling

his armies, and declared that he was not willing to begin the war

before the expiration of the truce made with the Mussulmans; thus

showing much more respect for treaties with infidels, than had till

that time been common among Christians, indeed, more respect than he

had himself shown. The pope, although much dissatisfied, could not

refuse the delay the emperor demanded; he, however, dissembled his

anger, and contented himself with requiring fresh promises, which were

made, as all the rest had been, with the greatest solemnity.

The new vows of Frederick were strengthened by his marriage with the

heir of the king of Jerusalem. The marriage was celebrated at Rome,

amidst the benedictions of the clergy and the acclamations of the

people; all the Christians of the West heard of it with joy, and this

union appeared to them to be the most certain pledge of the victories

the Crusaders would gain over the infidels. John of Brienne, who

assisted at the ceremony, congratulated himself upon having obtained an

emperor for a son-in-law and a supporter; but his joy was not of long

duration. Frederick, after his marriage, only saw in him the brother of

that Gauthier de Brienne, who had borne the title of king of Naples and

Sicily; he considered him as an enemy to his power, a dangerous rival,

and he disputed the possession of the kingdom of Jerusalem with him.

The pope was secretly pleased at this claim or pretension, as he hoped

it would promote the interests of the crusade. Honorius was delighted

to see the ambition of the emperor mix itself up with the great designs

for the execution of which he was so anxious. Frederick was therefore

acknowledged king of Jerusalem. Thus John of Brienne, who had always

proved himself the most ardent apostle of the holy war, deprived of his

crown, and from that time a stranger to the affairs of Palestine, was

obliged to wait in retirement and silence for a favourable opportunity

to avenge himself on his son-in-law, and recover his kingdom.

Frederick carried on his preparations for the holy war, and appeared

more than ever disposed to set out for the East. The crusade was

preached, in the name of the head of the Church, in all the kingdoms

of Europe; the sovereign pontiff wrote to the princes to exhort them

to suspend their divisions and occupy themselves solely with the war

beyond the sea.

As hostilities had just been renewed between England and France,

Honorius ordered Louis VIII. to lay down his arms, and threatened him

with excommunication, if he did not immediately make peace. The king

of France, before he obeyed the orders of the pope, was desirous of

completing the conquest of Poitou; and whilst the thunders of Rome were

growling over his head, the people and clergy were returning Heaven

thanks for his victories, in every church of his kingdom.

The war against the English was not the only obstacle to the departure

of the French Crusaders for the Holy Land; the exterminating crusade

against the Albigeois was still going on, and Louis VIII. took a more

active interest in it than his father Philip had done. When Louis VIII.

had concluded a truce with England, he at length resolved to take

the cross, and made a vow, not to go and fight against the Saracens

in Asia, but against the heretics in Languedoc. In this crusade the

king of France had the double advantage of scarcely going out of his

own territories, and of making conquests that might some day enlarge

his kingdom. The lords and barons followed Louis into the southern

provinces, and thought no more about the deliverance of Jerusalem.

At the same time the envoys of the pope and the emperor were busy

in exhorting the nations of Germany to succour the Christians of

Palestine. Their orations, which at first had great success, ended by

diminishing both confidence and enthusiasm. As the pope had recommended

the preachers to be prodigal of the indulgences of the Church, the

people beheld with astonishment the greatest criminals take the

cross, and swear to expiate their sins by the holy pilgrimage. They

remembered that St. Bernard had called thieves and murderers to the

defence of Christ; but opinions and morals began to change, and that

which had succeeded in the preceding century was now only a source of

reproach. The monk of Upsberg, a contemporary author, informs us that

the facility granted to the most vicious of mankind to redeem their

crimes by taking up arms and the cross, only served to increase great

offences, and cool the zeal of the true defenders of Christ.[234]

The orators who preached the crusade in England gathered more fruit

from their labours, but owed great part of their success to celestial

phenomena, which came very opportunely to second their eloquence. A

luminous crucifix, with the marks of the five wounds of the Saviour,

appeared suddenly in the heavens. This miraculous spectacle greatly

inflamed the enthusiasm of the people; and, if we may believe Matthew

Paris, more than sixty thousand English took the oath to arm themselves

for the deliverance of the tomb of Christ.

Spain was constantly the seat of a sanguinary war between the Moors

and the Christians; the one party supported by warriors from Africa,

the other by knights and soldiers from the provinces of France, fought

battles every day without destroying their means of either attack or

defence: amidst such wars, in which, by turns, Mahomet and Christ were

invoked, Spain was not likely to hear or attend to the complaints and

appeals of Jerusalem.

Another enthusiasm than that of the crusades,—an ardent desire for

liberty,—then agitated the finest countries of Italy. The greater

part of the cities, acted upon by jealousy and the other passions of

republics, were all at war among themselves; fighting sometimes for

territory, and sometimes for independence. In all these small states,

parties attacked and pursued each other with fury, and disputed the

exercise of power, sword in hand. Some of the cities, principalities,

and baronies invoked the authority of the pope, others that of the

emperor of Germany; the factions of the Guelphs and the Ghibellines

troubled every city, and created divisions in most families. These

discords and civil wars naturally turned the attention of Christian

nations from the crusades.

The cities of Lombardy had formed a powerful confederacy, which gave

Frederick continual cause of inquietude, and detained him in the West;

Honorius employed every means in his power to re-establish peace, and

direct men’s minds towards his darling object; and at last succeeded in

getting the Lombard republics to join the emperor of Germany for the

deliverance of the holy places.

Although the people had lost some portion of their enthusiasm for

the holy war, it was still possible to form a redoubtable army, by

gathering together all the warriors that had taken the cross in the

various countries of Europe; and the new Crusaders were ordered to meet

at the port of Brindisi, where vessels were being prepared to transport

them to the East. On their arrival in the kingdom of Naples, the

emperor of Germany supplied them with provisions and arms; everything

was ready, and the pope was about, at length, to see his wishes

accomplished, and receive the reward of all his labours and preachings,

when inexorable death deprived Christendom of its head.

Gregory IX., who succeeded him, had all the abilities, the virtues,

and the ambition of Innocent III. In the execution of his designs, he

feared neither difficulties nor perils; the most violent measures had

no terrors for his obstinacy or audacity, when the triumph of his will

was in question. Gregory had scarcely ascended the pontifical throne,

when the preparations for the holy war engrossed all his thoughts, and

became the principal object of his active solicitude.

The Crusaders assembled in Apulia had much to suffer from the

influences of the climate and the season; the sovereign pontiff

neglected nothing to alleviate their distresses and hasten their

departure. He exhorted the emperor to embark, by saying to him, “The

Lord has placed you in this world as a cherubim with a flaming sword,

to direct those who stray from the way of the tree of life.” Frederick

at length yielded to the prayers of the pope, and sailed from the port

of Brindisi with his fleet and army. Prayers were being put up for the

prosperity of his voyage and the success of his expedition, in all the

provinces of his empire, when, at the end of three days, being attacked

by the malady that had made such ravages in the Christian army, he

retraced his course, and landed in the port of Otranto.

Gregory had celebrated the departure of Frederick as a triumph of

the Church; he considered his return as an absolute revolt against

the Holy See. The little city of Agnani, to which the pope had

retired, witnessed the rage of the pontiff, and beheld the birth of

that formidable storm which so long disturbed the Christian world.

Accompanied by the cardinals and several bishops, Gregory repaired

to the principal church, and having mounted the pulpit, before the

assembled people, he pronounced a sermon which had for its text, “It

is necessary that scandals should arise.” After having called upon the

prophets, and spoken of the triumph of St. Michael over the dragon, he

launched against Frederick all the anathemas of the Church.