often hurled at Frederick, had redoubled the fury of the Guelphs
and the Ghibellines. All the republics of Lombardy were leagued in
opposition to the party of the emperor; the threats and the manifestoes
of the pope would not allow a single city to remain neuter, or leave
peace an asylum in the countries situated between the Alps and Sicily.
The missionaries of Innocent employed, by turns, the arms of religion
and of policy; after having declared the emperor to be a heretic and
an enemy to the Church, they represented him as a bad prince and a
tyrant, and dazzled the eyes of the people with the charms of liberty,
always so powerful a motive upon the minds of nations. The sovereign
pontiff sent two legates into the kingdom of Sicily, with letters for
the clergy, the nobility, and the people of the cities and country.
“We have not been able to see without some surprise,” wrote Innocent,
“that, burdened as you are, living under the opprobrium of servitude,
and oppressed in your persons and your property, you have hitherto
neglected the means of securing yourselves the sweets of liberty. Many
other nations have presented you with an example; but the Holy See, far
from accusing you, is satisfied with pitying you, and finds your excuse
in the fear that must hold possession of your hearts under the yoke
of a new Nero.” On terminating his letter to the Sicilians, the pope
endeavoured to make them understand that God had not placed them in a
fertile region and beneath a smiling sky to wear disgraceful chains;
and that by shaking off the yoke of the emperor of Germany, they would
only second the views of Providence.
Frederick, who had at first defied the thunders of Rome, was terrified
at the new war declared against him by the pope. The interdict placed
upon his states, the terrible array of the maledictions of the Church,
strongly affected the minds of the multitude, and might at length shake
the fidelity of his subjects; he himself felt his courage forsake him;
his party in Italy grew weaker every day; his armies had experienced
some checks in Germany; many conspiracies had been formed against his
life, and amongst the conspirators, he had the grief to find some of
his servants whom he had loaded with kindnesses. This haughty monarch
became convinced that he had no course but to seek a reconciliation
with the Church, and addressed himself to Louis IX., whose wisdom and
piety rendered him the arbiter of sovereigns and nations. Frederick,
in his letters, promised to abide by the decision of the king of
France and his barons, and engaged, beforehand, to go in person to the
conquest of the Holy Land, or to send his son, the king of the Romans.
In order to interest Louis in his cause, the emperor offered to supply
him with provisions, vessels, and everything he should stand in need of
in the expedition to the East.
Louis eagerly embraced this opportunity for reëstablishing peace in
Europe and assuring the success of the holy war. Several ambassadors
were sent to the pope at Lyons, conjuring the father of the faithful
to listen to the voice of mercy rather than to that of anger. The king
of France had two long conferences with Innocent in the monastery
of Cluni, and supplicated him afresh to appease by his clemency the
troubles of the Christian world; but enmity had been carried too far
to leave any hopes of peace; it was not possible for Innocent and
Frederick to pardon each other sincerely the outrages they had mutually
committed. The emperor had spared neither threats nor violences against
the popes; he did not hate them more for the injuries he had received
from them than for those he had done them. On the other side, it had
for a length of time been determined, in the councils of Rome, to
effect the overthrow of the house of Swabia, which was suspected,
and with reason, of entertaining the project of invading Italy and
establishing the seat of imperial domination in the city of St. Peter.
This policy, embraced with ardour, had assumed all the character of a
personal vengeance in the mind of Innocent. The triumph, even, of the
pontiff, whilst flattering his pride and ambition, appeared to double
his hatred, and the hope of completing the ruin of his enemy rendered
him implacable.
In vain the emperor of Germany, overcome by fear rather than won by
the love of peace, promised to descend from his throne, and pass
the remainder of his days in Palestine, on condition that he should
receive the benediction of the pope, and that his son Conrad should be
raised to the empire. This entire abnegation of power, this strange
abasement of royal majesty, produced no effect upon Innocent, who did
not believe, or feigned not to believe, the promises of Frederick;
in vain Louis IX., whose mind was incapable of suspecting imposture,
represented to the pope the advantages that Europe, Christendom, and
the court of Rome itself might derive from the repentance and offers
of the emperor; in vain he spoke to him of the vows and the safety of
pilgrims, of the glory and peace of the Church; the discourses of the
holy king were scarcely listened to, and his pious mind could not view,
without being moved with disgust, this inflexible rigour in the father
of the Christian world.
Whilst the report of these discords, upon gaining the East, spread
joy among the infidels, the unhappy inhabitants of Palestine gave
themselves up to despair on learning that so many untoward events
retarded the preparations for the crusade. Several messages from
the Christians beyond the seas were sent to the sovereign pontiff
to intercede for a prince from whom they hoped for such powerful
assistance. The patriarch of Armenia wrote to the court of Rome
to demand favour for Frederick; he demanded it in the name of the
threatened Christian colonies; in the name of the city of God,
fallen into ruins; in the name of the sepulchre of Christ, profaned
by barbarians. The pope made no reply whatever to the patriarch of
the Armenians, and appeared to have forgotten Jerusalem, the holy
sepulchre, and the Christians of Syria; he had, indeed, but one
thought,—that of carrying on the war against Frederick. Innocent
pursued his redoubtable enemy even to the East, and endeavoured to
induce the sultan of Cairo to break his engagements with the emperor of
Germany. The sultan of Cairo received, with as great joy as surprise,
a message which informed him so authentically of the divisions that
existed among the Christian princes; he answered the pope with a
severity full of contempt; and the more he was pressed to be unfaithful
to the treaties made with Frederick, the more he affected to display a
fidelity from which he hoped to obtain an advantage over the Christian
Church.
It was at this period that the emperor of Germany, urged on to despair,
in some sort justified the most violent proceedings of the court of
Rome by his conduct. He could not pardon Louis IX. for having remained
neuter in a quarrel that interested all Christendom, and if the Arabian
historian Yafey may be believed, he sent an ambassador secretly into
Asia to warn the Mussulman powers of the expedition projected by the
king of France. Throwing off at once the tone of submission to the
pope, he resolved to repel force by force, and violence by violence.
Some successes which he obtained in Germany, raised his courage, and
completely dissipated all his scruples. He laid siege to the city of
Parma, at the head of a formidable army. Horrible cruelties signalized
his first triumphs; the bishop of Arezzo, who fell into his hands, with
many other prisoners of war, were loaded with irons, and handed over to
the executioner without even the ceremony of a trial.
In the intoxication of success, Frederick threatened to cross the Alps,
and attack Innocent within the walls of Lyons. Heaven, however, would
not permit the execution of a project formed by hatred and revenge. The
Guelphs beat and dispersed the imperial army. Fortune changed, and the
irresolute character of Frederick changed as suddenly with it. Victory
had inflamed his pride and redoubled his fury; a single defeat cast him
into despondency, and rendered him again accessible to fear. From that
time he resumed the part of a suppliant to the pope; from that time
protestations and prayers seemed to cost his terrified mind no effort.
As the extent of his empire gave umbrage to the court of Rome,
Frederick promised to divide his dominions, and give Sicily to his son
Henry, and Germany to his son Conrad. He submitted his religious belief
to the examination of several bishops, and sent their decision to the
pope. He went at last even so far as to promise to come in person to
solicit the clemency of Innocent. The sovereign pontiff had just caused
the count of Holland to be nominated emperor, in the place of the
landgrave of Thuringia, who had died on the field of battle. In this
state of things he dreaded less the hostilities and angry threats of
Frederick, than he did his protestations of submission and repentance.
The supplications of princes and nations, who demanded favour for a
power he wished to destroy, annoyed Innocent; they seemed to accuse
him, in the eyes of Christendom, of obstinacy in his refusal, and
without inducing him to renounce his policy, only embarrassed him in
the execution of his designs.
The pope remained constantly inflexible; but astonished Europe began
to ask what powerful interest it was that commanded all these rigours.
Frederick, pursued with so much inveteracy, found at length the number
and zeal of his friends and partisans increase. Germany, Cologne,
and several other cities, rejected the decrees of the Holy See, and
proceeded to violent excesses. The angry pope launched all his thunders
against the guilty, and by an injustice which characterizes these times
of discord and vengeance, many of the penalties he pronounced extended
to the fourth generation. This senseless rage completed the alienation
of men’s minds, and the fanaticism of heresy was added to the furies of
civil war.
As the court of Rome, under the imposing pretext of the crusade,
levied tributes in all the states of Europe to keep up the fire of
sedition and revolt, so many violences, and so much injustice infused
dissatisfaction everywhere, and gave birth to a spirit of opposition
among nations even, that had been exempt from the consequences of the
terrible quarrel. The commissaries of the Holy See ruined the provinces
of France; they pervaded the cities and countries, compelling
the curates and chaplains of the nobles to sell all their little
property; they required from all, church dues; and from religious
communities, now the twentieth for the crusade against Constantinople,
then the tenth for that of Palestine, and at last a contribution
towards carrying on the war against the emperor. The French nobility,
stimulated by a feeling of patriotism, by the spirit of chivalry which
led all the _preux_ of that time to enter the lists against iniquity
of any kind, and perhaps also by the fear of being oppressed in their
turn, spoke loudly in favour of Frederick, and expressed their anger
at seeing the kingdom of France a prey to the agents of the pope. Just
remonstrances were at first made; but in a short time no measures
were observed, and they proceeded so far as to agitate the question,
whether they ought to acknowledge a pontiff, whose conduct appeared so
contrary to the spirit of the Gospel, as the vicar of Jesus Christ.
The principal French nobles at length formed a confederacy against the
proceedings of the pope and the clergy. Throughout this new struggle,
Louis IX., equally removed from that sacrilegious impiety which
pretends to brave everything, and from that superstitious pusillanimity
which believes itself obliged to suffer everything, managed to restrain
the excesses of both parties, and maintain peace; the league which was
then formed, without embittering men’s minds, succeeded in enlightening
them; it served, during the absence of the king, to repress the
enterprises of the Holy See, and many writers trace to this period the
origin of those Gallican liberties which have constituted the glory of
the French clergy up to modern times.
Nevertheless, Louis IX. was constantly employed in preparations for his
departure. As no other route to the East was available but that by sea,
and as the kingdom of France had no port in the Mediterranean, Louis
made the acquisition of the territory of Aigues-Mortes, in Provence;
the port, choked with sand, was cleansed, and a city large enough to
receive the crowd of pilgrims was built on the shore. Louis at the same
time busied himself in provisioning his army, and preparing magazines
in the isle of Cyprus, where he meant to land. Thibault, count de Bar,
and the sieur de Beaujeu, sent into Italy, found everything necessary
for the provisioning and transport of an army, either in the republic
of Venice, or in the rich provinces of Apulia and Sicily, whither the
directions of the emperor Frederick had preceded them.
The fame of these preparations soon reached Syria, and the authors of
the times describe the Mussulman powers as struck with terror, and
as immediately and earnestly employed in fortifying their cities and
their frontiers against the approaching invasion of the Franks. Such
popular rumours as were then in circulation that history has deigned
to preserve, accuse the Saracens of having employed perfidious means
and odious stratagems to avenge themselves upon the Christian nations,
and ruin their enterprise. It was asserted that the life of Louis IX.
was in danger from the emissaries of the Old Man of the Mountain; it
was reported in cities, and the multitude did not fail to give credit
to it, that the pepper which came from the East was empoisoned; and
Matthew Paris, a grave historian, does not hesitate to affirm that a
great number of persons died of it before this horrible artifice was
discovered. We may well believe that the policy of the time itself
invented these gross fables, to render the enemies they were about to
combat more odious, and that indignation might increase and animate
the courage of the warriors. It is natural also to suppose, that such
rumours had their origin in popular ignorance, and that they gained
credit from the opinion that was then entertained of the manners and
characters of infidel nations.
Three years had passed away since the king of France assumed the cross.
He convoked a new parliament at Paris, in which he at length fixed the
departure of the holy expedition for the month of June of the following
year (1248). The barons and prelates renewed with him the promises of
fighting against the infidels, and engaged to set out at the period
assigned, under the penalty of incurring ecclesiastical censures. Louis
took advantage of the moment that the magnates of his kingdom were
assembled in the name of religion, to require that they should take
the oath of fealty and homage to his children, and to make them swear
(these are the expressions of Joinville) “that they should be loyal to
his family, if any misadventure should befall his person in the holy
voyage beyond the seas.”[281]
It was then that the pope addressed a letter to the nobility and people
of France, in which he celebrated in solemn terms the bravery and
other warlike virtues of the French nation and its pious monarch. The
sovereign pontiff gave his benediction to the French Crusaders, and
threatened with the thunders of the Church all who, having made the vow
of pilgrimage, deferred their departure. Louis IX., who had no doubt
requested this warning from the pope, saw with joy all the nobility of
his kingdom hasten to join his standard; many nobles, whose ambition he
had repressed, were the first to set the example, for fear of awakening
old mistrusts or incurring fresh disgraces; others, seduced by the
habitual spirit of courts, declared themselves with ardour champions
of the cross, in the hope of obtaining, not the rewards of Heaven, but
those of the earth. The character of Louis IX. inspired the greatest
confidence in all the Christian warriors. “If, till this time,” said
they, “God has permitted the crusades to be nothing but a long course
of reverses and calamities, it is because the imprudence of the leaders
has compromised the safety of the Christian armies; it is because
discord and licentiousness of manners have reigned too long among
the defenders of the cross: but what evils have we to dread under a
prince whom Heaven appears to have inspired with its own wisdom,—under
a prince who, by his firmness, has succeeded in suppressing every
division in his own country, and is about to exhibit to the East an
example of all the virtues?”
Many English nobles, among whom were the earls of Salisbury and
Leicester, resolved to accompany the king of France, and share with him
the perils of the crusade. The earl of Salisbury, grandson of “Fair
Rosamond,” who had gained by his exploits the surname of “Long Sword,”
had just been stripped of all his possessions by Henry III. In order
to place himself in a condition to make preparations for the war, he
addressed himself to the pope, and said to him, “Beggar as I am, I
have made a vow to perform the pilgrimage to the Holy Land. If Prince
Richard, brother to the king of England, has been able to obtain,
without taking the cross, the privilege of levying a tax upon those who
have just laid it down, I have thought that I might obtain a similar
favour;—I, who have no resource but in the charity of the faithful.”
This discourse, which informs us of a very curious fact, made the
sovereign pontiff smile: the earl of Salisbury obtained the favour he
asked, and deemed it his duty to set out for the East.
The preachings for the holy war, which had produced but little effect
in Italy and Germany, had nevertheless been successful in the provinces
of Friesland and Holland, and in some of the northern kingdoms.
Haco, king of Norway, celebrated for his bravery and exploits, took
the oath to fight against the infidels; and the Norwegians, who had
several times distinguished themselves in the holy wars, followed the
example of their monarch. Haco, after completing his preparations,
wrote to Louis IX. to announce his approaching departure. He asked him
permission to land upon the coast of France, and to furnish himself
there with the supplies necessary for his army. Louis made a most
cordial reply, and proposed to the Norwegian prince to share with
him the command of the crusade. Matthew Paris, who was charged with
the message from Louis IX., informs us in his History that the king
of Norway declined the generous offer of the French king, persuaded,
he said, that harmony could not long subsist between the Norwegians
and the French,—the first, of an impetuous, restless, and jealous
character, the others, full of pride and haughtiness.
Haco, after having made this reply, thought no more of embarking,
and remained quietly in his kingdom, history being perfectly unable
to discover the motives which produced this sudden change. It may
be believed, that in accordance with the example of several other
Christian monarchs, this prince had made use of the crusade as a
cloak for his political designs. By levying a tax of a third upon
the revenues of the clergy, he had amassed treasures which he might
employ in strengthening his power. The army he had raised in the name
of Christ might minister to his ambition much more effectually in
Europe than in the plains of Asia. The pope, from whom he had received
the title of king, at first exhorted him to assume the sign of the
Crusaders; but everything leads us to believe that he afterwards
advised him to remain in the West, where he hoped to raise in him one
more enemy against the emperor of Germany. Thus the king of Norway
had promised to go into the East in the hope of obtaining the favour
and protection of the court of Rome; and to preserve this favour and
this support, he had but one thing to do, and that was to forget his
promises.
However this may be, it is certain that the pope, at that time, took
but very little interest in the success of the eastern crusade. We
may judge of this by the facility with which he liberated so many
from their vows of fighting against the infidels: he went even so far
as to forbid the Crusaders from Friesland and Holland to embark for
Palestine. In vain Louis IX. made some serious remonstrances on this
head; Innocent would not listen to him. Engrossed by one passion, he
found it much more advantageous to grant dispensations for the voyage
to Syria; for, on one part, those dispensations which were bought with
solid money, contributed to fill his treasury, and on the other, they
left soldiers in Europe that he might arm against his personal enemies.
Thus France was the only country in which the crusade was really an
object of interest; the piety and zeal of Louis IX. brought back all
those whom the indifference of the pope had cooled; and the love of the
French for their king, replacing religions enthusiasm, sufficed for the
removal of all obstacles. The cities whose liberties the monarch had
protected, voluntarily sent him considerable sums. The farmers of the
royal domains, which were then very extensive, advanced the revenues
of a year. The rich taxed themselves, and poured their hoards into
the coffers of the king; poverty dropped its mite into the poor-boxes
of churches; and we may add, that at that period there was scarcely a
will made in the kingdom which did not contain some legacy towards the
expenses of the holy war. The clergy were not content with addressing
prayers to Heaven for the crusade, they paid the tenth of their
revenues for the support of the soldiers of the cross.
The barons, nobles, and princes, who equipped themselves at their
awn expense, imposed taxes on their vassals, and found, after the
example of the king of France, the money necessary for the voyage in
the revenues of their domains and in the pious generosity of the towns
and cities. Many, as in other crusades, pledged their lands, sold
their property, and ruined themselves, to provide means to support
their soldiers and knights. They forgot their families, they forgot
themselves in the sad preparations for departure, and appeared never to
look forward to the period of return. Many prepared themselves for the
voyage as they would have prepared for exile or death; the most pious
of the Crusaders, as if they only went to the East to find a tomb, were
particularly anxious to appear before God in a state of grace; they
expiated their sins by penitence; they pardoned offences, repaired the
ill they had done, disposed of their goods, gave them to the poor, or
divided them amongst their natural heirs.
This disposition of men’s minds was greatly to the advantage of
humanity and justice; it imparted generous sentiments to people of
property; whilst, in the wicked, it awakened a remorse that was nearly
allied to virtue. Amidst civil wars and feudal anarchy, a crowd of men
had enriched themselves by strife, rapine, and brigandage; religion
inspired them with a salutary repentance, and this time of penitence
was marked by a great number of restitutions, which for a moment
made the triumphs of iniquity to be forgotten. The famous count de
la Marche set the example; his conspiracies, his revolts, his unjust
enterprises had often troubled the peace of the kingdom, and ruined a
great number of families; he became desirous of expiating his faults;
and to mitigate the just anger of God, he, by his will, ordered a
complete restitution to be made of all the property he had acquired
by injustice and violence.[282] The sieur de Joinville tells us, with
great simplicity, in his History, that his conscience did not reproach
him with anything serious, but that, nevertheless, he assembled his
vassals and neighbours to offer them reparation for the wrongs he might
have done them without knowing it.
In those days of repentance monasteries were founded and treasures
lavished on churches: “The most sure means,” said Louis IX., “to avoid
perishing like the impious, is to love and enrich the place in which
dwells the glory of the Lord.” The piety of the Crusaders was not
forgetful of the poor and infirm; their numerous offerings endowed
cloisters as asylums for want; hospices, or small convents, for the
reception of pilgrims; and particularly leper hospitals, which were
established in all the provinces, the melancholy abodes of victims of
the holy wars.
Louis IX. distinguished himself by his liberality towards churches
and monasteries; but that which must particularly have drawn upon
him the blessings of his people, was the care he took to repair all
injustice committed in the administration of government. The holy
monarch knew, that if kings are the images of God upon earth, they are
never so truly so as when justice is seated beside them on the throne.
Restitution-offices, established by his orders in the royal domains,
were charged with the repairing of all wrongs that might have been
committed by the agents or farmers of the king. In most of the great
cities it was the duty of two commissaries, one an ecclesiastic, the
other a layman, to hear and decide upon complaints made against his
ministers and officers: a noble exercise of the supreme authority,
which rather employs itself in seeking out the unfortunate to assist
them, than the guilty to punish them! which watches for the murmurs
of the poor, encourages the weak, and submits itself to the tribunal
of the laws! It was not sufficient for Louis to have established
regulations for the administration of justice,—their execution excited
his most anxious solicitude. Preachers announced the intentions of the
king in all the churches, and as if he thought himself responsible to
God for all judgments pronounced in his name, the monarch secretly sent
holy ecclesiastics and good monks to make fresh observations, and learn
from faithful reporters, if the judges whom he believed to be worthy
men, were not themselves corrupt. The historian pauses complacently
over this touching picture; so noble an example presented to the kings
of the earth, appeared likely to bring down the blessings of Heaven
upon Saint Louis; and when we reflect upon the deplorable results of
this crusade, with the chroniclers of his own time, we feel astonished
that so many calamities should have been the reward of such exalted
virtue.[283]
The preparations were now carried on with redoubled zeal and activity;
all the provinces of France appeared to be in arms; the people of
cities and country had but one thought, and that was the crusade. The
great vassals assembled their knights and troops; the nobles and barons
visited each other, or exchanged messengers, in order to settle the
day of their departure. Relations and friends engaged to unite their
banners, and place everything in common—money, glory, and perils.
Devotional practices were mingled with military preparations. Warriors
were seen laying aside the cuirass and sword, and walking, barefooted
and in their shirts, to visit monasteries and churches, to which the
relics of saints attracted the concourse of the faithful. Processions
were formed in every parish; all the Crusaders appeared at the foot
of the altars, and received the symbols of pilgrimage from the hands
of the clergy. Prayers were put up in all churches for the success
of the expedition. In families, abundance of tears were shed at the
moment of departure; and most of the pilgrims, on receiving these last
endearments of their friends, seemed to feel, more than ever, the value
of all they were leaving behind them. The historian of Saint Louis
tells us, that after visiting Blanchicourt and Saint-Urbain, where
holy relics were deposited, he would not once turn his eyes towards
Joinville, for his heart was softened at the idea of the beautiful
castle he was leaving, and of his two children.[284] The leaders of
the crusade took with them all the warlike youth, and left in many
countries nothing but a weak and unarmed population; many abandoned
castles and fortresses must, naturally, fall to ruins; much flourishing
land must be changed into a desert, and a vast many families must be
left without support. The people, no doubt, had cause to regret the
nobles whose authority was supported by kindnesses, and who, after
the example of Saint Louis, loved truth and justice, and protected
the weak and the innocent; but there were some whose departure was
witnessed with gladness; and more than one town, more than one village,
rejoiced at seeing the donjon, from which they had been accustomed to
experience all the miseries of servitude, empty and abandoned.
It was an affecting spectacle to see the families of artisans and
poor villagers lead their children to the barons and knights, and say
to them: “You will be their fathers; you will watch over them amidst
the perils of war and of the sea.” The barons and knights promised to
bring back their soldiers to the West, or to perish with them in fight;
and the opinion of the people, the nobility, and the clergy, devoted,
beforehand, all who should fail in this sacred promise, to the anger of
God and the contempt of men.
Amidst these preparations, the most profound calm prevailed throughout
the kingdom. In all preceding crusades, the multitude had exercised
great violence against the Jews; but by the firmness and wisdom
of Saint Louis, the Jews, though depositaries of immense wealth,
and always skilful in taking advantage of circumstances to enrich
themselves, were respected among a nation they had plundered, and
which was now completing its own ruin by the holy war. Adventurers and
vagabonds were not admitted beneath the banners of the cross; and, upon
the demand of Saint Louis, the pope forbade all who had committed great
crimes to take up arms in the cause of Christ. These precautions, which
had never been observed in former crusades, were highly calculated to
insure the maintenance of order and discipline in the Christian army.
Among the crowd that presented themselves to go into Asia, artisans
and labourers met with the best reception,—which is a remarkable
circumstance, and clearly proves that views of a wise policy were
mingled with sentiments of devotion, and that, though the ostensible
object was the deliverance of Jerusalem, hopes were entertained of
founding useful colonies in the East.
At the appointed time Louis IX., accompanied by his brothers, the
duke of Anjou and the count d’Artois, repaired to the abbey of St.
Denis.[285] After having implored the support of the apostles of
France, he received from the hands of the legate the pilgrim’s staff
and scrip, and that oriflamme which his predecessors had already
twice unfurled before the nations of the East. Louis then returned
to Paris, where he heard mass in the church of Notre Dame. The same
day he quitted his capital, not again to enter it before his return
from the Holy Land. The people and clergy were softened to tears, and
accompanied him to the abbey of St. Antoine, singing psalms by the way.
There he mounted on horseback to go to Corbeil, at which place the
Queen Blanche and Queen Marguerite were to meet him.
The king gave two more days to the affairs of his kingdom, and confided
the regency to his mother, whose firmness and wisdom had defended and
preserved the crown during the troubles of his minority. If anything
could excuse Louis IX., and justify his pious obstinacy, it was his
leaving his country in profound peace. He had renewed the truce with
the king of England; and Germany and Italy were so occupied with their
own internal discords, that they could not give France the least
subject for alarm. Louis, after having employed every precaution
against the spirit of disaffection, took with him into the Holy Land
almost all the powerful nobles that had disturbed the kingdom. The
county of Mâcon, sold at the end of the preceding crusade, had recently
reverted to the crown; Normandy had escaped from the yoke of the
English; the counties of Thoulouse and Provence, by the marriage of the
counts of Anjou and Poictiers, were about to become apanages of the
princes of the royal family. Louis IX., after he took the cross, never
ceased in his endeavours to preserve the recent conquests of France, to
appease the murmurs of the people, and remove every pretext for revolt.
The spirit of justice, which was observable in all his institutions;
the remembrance of his virtues, which appeared more estimable amidst
the general grief caused by his departure; the religion which he had
caused to flourish by his example, were quite sufficient to maintain
order and peace during his absence.
As soon as Louis had placed the administration of his kingdom in other
hands, he gave himself up to the exercises of piety, and appeared to
be no more than the most meek of Christians. The dress and attributes
of a pilgrim became the only adornments of a powerful monarch. He
wore no more splendid stuffs, no more valuable furs; his arms even,
and the harness of his horses, glittered with nothing but the polish
of steel and iron. His example had so much influence, says Joinville,
that on the voyage not a single instance of an embroidered coat was
seen, either upon the king or any one else. When endeavouring to reform
splendour in equipages or dress, Louis caused the money he had been
accustomed to expend in these to be distributed to the poor. Thus royal
magnificence was in him nothing but the luxury of charity.
Queen Blanche accompanied him as far as Cluny. This princess was
persuaded she should never see her son again until they met in heaven,
and took leave of him in the most affectionate manner; the tears of
mother and son bearing witness to the truth of their grief at parting.
On his way, he saw the pope at Lyons, and conjured him, for the last
time, to be merciful to Frederick, whom reverses had humiliated, and
who implored pardon. After having represented the great interests of
the crusade, after having spoken in the name of the numerous pilgrims
who were abandoning everything for the cause of Christ, the pious mind
of the king was astonished to find the pontiff still inexorable. The
king then directed all his attention to the prosecution of his journey.
Innocent promised to protect the kingdom of France against the heretic
Frederick and the king of England; the latter of whom he always styled
his vassal: he witnessed without regret the departure of a prince
venerated for his love of justice, whose presence in Europe might be an
obstacle to his policy. The sovereign pontiff had not much trouble in
keeping his promise of defending the independence and peace of France;
for the discords he excited in other states preserved that kingdom from
all foreign annoyance during the time of the crusade.
The fleet, which awaited Louis at Aigues-Mortes, was composed of
twenty-eight vessels, without reckoning those that were to transport
the horses and the provisions. The king embarked, followed by his two
brothers, Charles duke of Anjou, and Robert count d’Artois, and the
queen Marguerite, who did not dread less the idea of remaining with
her mother-in-law than that of living away from her husband.[286]
Alphonse, count of Poictiers, deferred his departure till the following
year, and returned to Paris to assist the queen regent with his
counsels and authority. When the whole army of the Crusaders was
embarked, the signal was given, the priests, according to the custom in
maritime expeditions, sang the _Veni Creator_, and the fleet set sail.
France had then no marine, the sailors and pilots were almost all
Spaniards or Italians. Two Genoese performed the functions of
commanders or admirals. A great part of the barons and knights had
never before seen the sea, and everything they saw filled them with
surprise and dread; they invoked all the saints of Paradise, and
recommended their souls to God. The good Joinville does not at all
dissemble his fright, and cannot help saying: “A great fool is he who,
having any sin on his soul, places himself in such a danger; for if he
goes to sleep at night, he cannot be certain he shall not find himself
at the bottom of the sea in the morning.”[287]
Louis IX. embarked at Aigues-Mortes, the 25th of August, and arrived
at Cyprus on the 21st of September.[288] Henry, grandson of Guy of
Lusignan, who obtained the kingdom of Cyprus in the third crusade,
received the king of France at Limisso, and conducted him to his
capital of Nicosia, amidst the acclamations of the people, nobility,
and clergy.
A short time after the arrival of the Crusaders, it was decided in a
council, that the arms of the Christians should, in the first place,
be directed against Egypt. The reverses that had been met with on the
banks of the Nile, in preceding wars, did not at all alarm the king
of France and his barons; it is even more than probable that Louis,
before he left his kingdom, had formed the design of carrying the war
into the country from which the Mussulmans drew their wealth and their
strength. The king of Cyprus, who had recently received the title of
king of Jerusalem from the pope, the more strongly applauded, this
determination, from its giving him reason to hope to be delivered from
the most formidable of his neighbours, and the most cruel enemy of the
Christian colonies in Syria. This prince also caused a crusade to be
preached in his kingdom, for the sake of being placed in a condition
to accompany the French Crusaders, and associate himself usefully in
their conquests. He proposed to the king of France and his barons to
wait till he had concluded his preparations. “The lords and prelates of
Cyprus,” says William of Nangis, “all took the cross, appeared before
Louis, and told him they would go with him wherever it should please
him to lead them, if he would stay till the winter had passed away.”
As Louis and the principal French nobles appeared but little disposed
to delay their march, the Cypriots spared neither protestations of
friendship, caresses, nor prayers to detain them. Every day was devoted
to rejoicings and feastings, in which the nobility and wealthy men of
the kingdom exhibited the splendour of eastern courts. The enchanting
aspect of the isle, a country rich in all the delicious productions of
nature, particularly that Cyprus wine which Solomon himself has not
disdained to celebrate, seconded in a powerful manner the entreaties
and seductions of the court of Nicosia. It was decided that the
Christian army should not depart before the following spring.
It was not long before they became fully aware of the error they had
committed. Amidst the excessive abundance that reigned in their camp,
the Crusaders gave themselves up to intemperance; in a country in which
pagan fables placed the altars of voluptuousness, the virtue of the
pilgrims was every day exposed to fresh trials; a protracted idleness
relaxed the discipline of the army, and, to crown these evils, a
pestilential disease exercised great ravages among the defenders of the
cross. The pilgrims had to lament the death of more than two hundred
and fifty knights from this calamity. Contemporary chronicles mention
among the lords and prelates that were victims to it, the counts of
Dreux and Vendôme, Robert, bishop of Beauvais, and the brave William
des Barres; the army had likewise to regret the loss of the last of the
race of the Archambault de Bourbons, whose county became afterwards the
heritage of the children of Saint Louis, and gave to the royal family
of France a name that it has rendered for ever illustrious in the
annals of that country.
A great number of barons and knights were in want of money to maintain
their troops, and Louis freely opened his treasury to them. The sieur
de Joinville, who had no more than one hundred and twenty livres
tournois[289] left, received from the monarch eight hundred livres; a
considerable sum in those days.
Many of the nobles complained of having sold their lands and ruined
themselves to follow the king to the crusade. The liberality of Louis
could not possibly satisfy all these complainants. A great number of
knights, after being ruined by the abode in the isle of Cyprus, could
not endure the idleness they were condemned to, but were anxious to set
out for Syria or Egypt, hoping to make the Saracens pay the expenses of
the war. Louis had a great deal of trouble to restrain them; historians
agree in saying that he was _only half obeyed_; therefore, he had
much more frequent occasion to exercise his patience and evangelical
mildness than his authority; and if he succeeded in appeasing all
discords and suppressing all murmurs, it was less by the ascendancy of
his power than by that of his virtue.
Differences arose between the Greek clergy and the Latin clergy of
the isle of Cyprus. Louis succeeded in putting an end to them. The
Templars and Hospitallers appealed to him as judge in their constantly
reviving quarrels; he made them swear to be reconciled, and to have no
other enemies than those of Christ. The Genoese and Pisans resident
at Ptolemaïs, had long and serious disputes, both parties having
recourse to arms, and nothing appeared able to check the fury and
scandal of a civil war in a Christian city. The wise mediation of Louis
reëstablished peace. Aitho, king of Armenia, and Bohemond, prince of
Antioch and Tripoli, implacable enemies, both sent ambassadors to the
king of France: he induced them to conclude a truce: thus Louis IX.
appeared among the nations of the East as an angel of peace and concord.
At this period the territory of Antioch was ravaged by vagabond bands
of Turcomans; Louis sent Bohemond five hundred cross-bowmen. Aitho had
just formed an alliance with the Tartars, and was preparing to invade
the states of the sultan of Iconium in Asia Minor. As the Armenian
prince enjoyed a great reputation in the East for skill and bravery,
many French knights, impatient to display their valour, left Cyprus
for the purpose of joining his standard and sharing the fruits of his
victories. Joinville, after having spoken of their departure, says
nothing of their exploits, and only informs us of their unhappy destiny
by these words: “not one of them ever came back.”[290]
Fame had announced the arrival of Louis throughout all the countries
of the East, and the news produced a great sensation among both
Mussulmans and Christians. A prediction, that was credited in the most
distant regions, and which missionaries found spread even through
Persia, announced that a king of the Franks was destined speedily to
disperse all infidels and deliver Asia from the sacrilegious worship
and laws of Mahomet. It was believed that the time was now come for the
accomplishment of this prediction. A crowd of Christians hastened from
Syria, Egypt, and all the countries of the East, to salute him whom God
had sent to fulfil his divine promises.
It was at this period that Louis received an embassy that excited the
curiosity and attention of the Crusaders in the highest degree; the
marvellous account of it occupies a conspicuous place in the chronicles
of the middle ages.[291] This embassy came from a Tartar prince, named
Ecalthaï,[292] who professed himself to be converted to the Christian
faith, and displayed the most ardent zeal for the triumph of the
Gospel. The head of this deputation, named David, remitted to the king
a letter filled with sentiments expressed with so much exaggeration as
ought to have rendered it doubtful; he said that the great khan had
received baptism three years before, and that he was prepared to assist
the expedition of the French Crusaders with all his power. The news of
this embassy soon spread through the army, and from that time nothing
was talked of but the promised succour of the great khan or emperor of
the Tartars; the leaders and soldiers flocked to the residence of Louis
to see the ambassador of the prince Ecalthaï, whom they considered _as
one of the first barons of Tartary_.
The king of France interrogated the deputies several times respecting
their journey, their country, and the character and disposition of
their sovereign; and as all he heard flattered his most cherished
thoughts, he conceived no mistrust, and discovered no signs of
imposture in their replies. The Tartar ambassadors were received at
his court, and admitted to his table; he himself conducted them to the
celebration of divine service in the metropolitan church of Nicosia,
where all the people were edified by their devotion.
At their departure, the king of France and the legate of the pope
charged them with several letters[293] for the prince Ecalthaï and the
great khan of the Tartars. To these letters were added magnificent
presents; among which was a scarlet tent, upon which Louis had caused
to be worked “The Annunciation of the Virgin Mary, the Mother of God,
and all the other points of faith.” The king wrote to Queen Blanche, as
did the legate to the sovereign pontiff, to announce the extraordinary
embassy that had arrived from the most distant regions of the East.
The propitious news of an alliance with the Tartars, who were then
looked upon as the most formidable of all nations, spread joy among
the people of the West, and increased their hopes of the success of the
crusade.
Missionaries that were sent into Tartary by Louis were very soon
satisfied that the conversion of the great khan was nothing but a
fable. The Mogul ambassadors had advanced many other impostures in
their accounts, which has induced some learned moderns to think that
this great embassy[294] was nothing but a trick, the contrivance
of which may be attributed to some Armenian monks. However it may
be, there can be no doubt that the Moguls, who were at war with the
Mussulmans, might have some interest in conciliating the Christians,
and might be led, from that time, to consider the Franks as useful
auxiliaries.
Winter, in the mean time, was drawing towards an end, and the period
fixed upon for the departure of the French Crusaders was approaching.
The king of France ordered a great number of flat-bottomed boats
to be constructed, to facilitate the descent of the Christian army
upon the coast of Egypt. As the Genoese fleet, in which the French
had embarked at Aigues-Mortes, had left the port of Lemisso, it
required considerable trouble to get together, from all parts, vessels
sufficient to transport the army and the numerous magazines formed in
the isle of Cyprus. Louis IX. applied to the Genoese and Venetians
established on the coast of Syria, who, to the great scandal of the
knights and barons, showed, in this instance, more cupidity than
devotion, and placed an exorbitant price upon services demanded of them
in the name of Christ.
At this time Louis received a communication from the emperor of
Germany, still pursued by the thunders of Rome. This prince sent
provisions to the Crusaders, and expressed great grief, in his letters,
at being unable to share the perils of the holy war. The king of France
thanked Frederick, and sighed at the obstinacy of the pope, which
deprived the defenders of the cross of such a powerful auxiliary.
Preparations were continued with the greatest activity; every day fresh
Crusaders arrived, who came from the ports of the West, or had passed
the winter in the isles of the Archipelago, or on the coasts of Greece.
All the nobility of Cyprus had taken the cross, and were preparing
for their conflict with the infidels. The greatest harmony prevailed
between the two nations; in the Greek as well as the Latin churches,
prayers were offered up to Heaven for the success of the Christian
arms; and throughout the host nothing was talked of but the wonders of
the East, and the riches of Egypt, which they were about to conquer.
Whilst enthusiasm and joy were thus exuberant among the Christian
warriors, the grand masters of St. John and the Temple wrote to Louis
IX., to consult him upon the possibility of opening a negotiation
with the sultan of Cairo. The leaders of these two orders anxiously
desired to break the chains of their knights who were detained in
captivity since the defeat of Gaza; they did not otherwise partake with
the Crusaders their blind confidence in victory; experience of other
crusades had taught them that the warriors of the West, at first very
redoubtable, almost always began their wars with splendour, but that
afterwards, weakened by discord, exhausted by the fatigues of a distant
expedition, and sometimes led away by their natural inconstancy,
they only thought of returning into Europe, abandoning the Christian
colonies to all the furies of an enemy irritated by former defeats.
According to these considerations, the two grand masters would have
wished to take advantage of the powerful succours from the West, to
conclude a useful and durable peace. The mode of negotiation presented
them much greater future advantages than a war, whose chances were
doubtful, and whose perils might, in the end, all recoil upon them.
Their pacific message arrived at the moment when nothing way spoken of
in the Christian army but the conquests they were about to make; when
all minds were heated by the enthusiasm of glory, and the hope of a
rich booty. The proposition alone of peace with the infidels was a true
subject of scandal for these warriors, who believed themselves called
upon to destroy, throughout the East, the domination and the power of
all the enemies of Christ. The general surprise and indignation gave
credence to the blackest calumnies against the grand master of the
Temple, who was loudly accused of keeping up a secret intelligence with
the sultan of Cairo, and of having joined in barbarous ceremonies to
bind this impious union. Louis IX., who did not come into the East to
sign a treaty of peace and to deliver only a few prisoners, shared the
indignation of his companions in arms, and forbade the grand masters
of the Temple and St. John to reiterate propositions insulting to the
Christian warriors, insulting to him.
The Crusaders, intoxicated with their future success, were not aware
of half the obstacles they were about to encounter; they thought
more about the wealth than the strength of their enemies; acquainted
with neither the climate nor the country to which their wishes were
directed, their ignorance redoubled their security, and fed hopes that
were doomed soon to fade away.
The leaders of the crusade were particularly sanguine with respect to
the divisions of the Mussulman princes, who were quarrelling for the
provinces of Syria and Egypt: in fact, since the death of Saladin,
discord had rarely ceased to trouble the family of the Ayoubites.
But as their dissensions broke out in civil wars, and as civil wars
rendered the population more warlike, their empire, which grew weaker
every day inwardly, often, consequently, became the stronger outwardly;
when common danger united the Mussulman powers, or that one of those
powers mastered the rest, everything was to be dreaded from an empire
always tottering in peace, but which seemed to derive fresh strength
from the animosities and perils of a war against the Christians.
Malek Saleh Negmeddin, who then reigned in Egypt, was the son of the
sultan Camel, celebrated by the victory gained at Mansourah over the
army of John of Brienne and the legate Pelagius. Driven from the throne
by a conspiracy, he endeavoured to recover it by arms; conquered, he
fell into the chains of his rival, and profited by the lessons of
adversity. Very soon, the esteem in which his abilities were held; the
hatred which the prince who reigned in his place inspired; the want
of change, and perhaps a certain partiality for revolt and treason,
recalled him to empire. The new sovereign showed himself much more
skilful and more fortunate than his predecessors; he knew how to
preserve obedience in the provinces; to maintain discipline in his
army; and to keep fear alive among his enemies. He had taken advantage
of the arms of the Carismians to get possession of Damascus, and to
crush both the Christians and their allies. From this period Negmeddin
extended his conquests upon the banks of the Euphrates, and at length
gathered under his laws the greater part of the empire of Saladin.
At the moment Louis IX. landed in the isle of Cyprus, the sultan of
Cairo was in Syria, where he was making war against the prince of
Aleppo, and held the city of Emessa in siege. He was acquainted with
all the projects of the Christians, and gave orders for the defence
of all the avenues of Egypt. When he learnt that the Christian army
was about to embark, he immediately abandoned the siege of Emessa,
and concluded a truce with enemies of whom he entertained very little
dread, to return to his states that were threatened with invasion.
The Orientals considered the French as the bravest people of the race
of the Franks, and the king of France as the most redoubtable monarch
of the West. The preparations of Negmeddin were commensurate with
the dread these new enemies naturally inspired. He neglected nothing
in fortifying the coasts or in provisioning Damietta, which was most
likely to be the object of the first hostilities. A numerous fleet
was equipped, descended the Nile, and was placed at the mouth of the
river; an army, commanded by Fakreddin, the most skilful of the emirs,
encamped on the coast, to the west of the mouth of the river, at the
very same point where, thirty-three years before, the army of John of
Brienne had landed.
All these preparations would, no doubt, have been sufficient to meet
the first attacks of the Crusaders, if the sultan of Cairo had been
able to direct them himself, and command his troops in person; but he
was attacked by a disease which his physicians pronounced to be mortal.
In a state of things in which everything depended upon the presence and
life of the prince, the certainty of his approaching end necessarily
weakened confidence and zeal, cooled the general courage, and was
injurious to the execution of all the measures taken for the defence of
the country.
Such was the military and political situation of Egypt at the time
Louis embarked from the ports of the isle of Cyprus. Many historians
say, that before his departure, according to the custom of chivalry, he
sent a herald-at-arms to the sultan Negmeddin, to declare war against
him. In the early crusades, many Christian princes had in this manner
addressed chivalric messages to the Mussulman powers they were about to
attack: it is quite possible that Louis might imitate this example; but
the letter attributed to him bears no character of truth about it. The
same historians add, that the sultan of Cairo could not refrain from
tears on reading the letter of St. Louis. His reply, quoted in Makrisy,
is at least conformable to his known character, and to the spirit of
the Mussulman princes. He affected to brave the unexpected threats
and attacks of the disciples of Christ; he referred with pride to the
victories of the Mussulmans over the Christians; and whilst reproaching
the king of France with the injustice of his aggressions, he quoted in
his letter this passage from the Koran:—“They who fight unjustly shall
perish.”
This message contained predictions that were but too fully realized
in the end. There is nothing, however, to lead us to believe that
any correspondence was then established between Louis and the sultan
of Cairo. Prudence, at least, required the king of France to send
messengers and emissaries into Egypt, to reconnoitre the state,
strength, and resources of the country. It is more than probable,
that in preceding crusades it was not only in obedience to the spirit
of chivalry, but to ascertain the position of their enemies that
ambassadors were sent; we must confess, however, that we cannot find
in any chronicle of the times evidence of their having taken any
precaution of this kind. A foresight which might bear the slightest
association with timidity, stratagem, or even policy, was not the least
in accordance with the character of Louis and his knights. History has
no hesitation in affirming that the Crusaders, ready at this period to
embark for Egypt, knew nothing of the countries into which they were
about to carry their arms, but that which they had learnt from the
uncertain accounts of common report.
The signal of departure was given on the Friday before Pentecost; and a
numerous fleet, in which embarked the French army and the warriors of
the isle of Cyprus,[295] sailed gallantly out from the port of Limisso.
“This was a thing most beautiful to behold,” says Joinville; “for it
appeared as if the sea, as far as the eye could reach, was covered with
the sails of vessels, which were to the number of eight hundred, as
well large as small.” All at once a wind blowing full from the coast
of Egypt gave rise to a violent storm, which dispersed all the fleet;
and Louis IX., who was forced to put back to port, found, with great
grief, that at least the half of his vessels had been carried by the
wind on to the coasts of Syria. At this moment of disappointment,
however, unexpected reinforcements arrived, which restored the hopes of
Louis and his captains. These consisted of the duke of Burgundy, who
had passed the winter in the Morea; William of Salisbury, at the head
of two hundred English knights; and William of Villehardouin, prince of
Achaia, who forgot the dangers of the Latin empire of Constantinople
to go and fight the infidels on the banks of the Nile and the Jordan.
Without waiting for the vessels which the tempest had dispersed, they
again set sail, and the fleet, with a favourable wind, directed its
course towards Egypt. On the fourth day, at sunrise, the watch on deck
cried, “Land! land!” A sailor, who served as pilot, ascended to the
round top of the leading vessel, and such was the sentiment which the
sight of the land inhabited by the infidels inspired in the Christians,
that this man cried out, “We have nothing to do but to recommend
ourselves to God; for here we are, before Damietta.” These words flew
from rank to rank, and the whole fleet drew as near as they could to
the vessel of Louis IX. The principal leaders endeavoured to get on
board of it; the king awaited them in a warlike attitude and exhorted
them to offer thanks to God for having brought them face to face with
the enemies of Jesus Christ. As the greater part of the leaders seemed
to fear his life would be too much exposed in the course of a war which
must be terrible: “Follow my example,” said he to them; “leave me to
brave all perils, and in the midst of the hottest fight never once
think that the safety of the state and the Church resides in my person;
you yourselves are the state and the Church, and you ought to see in me
nothing but a man whose life, like that of any other, may be dissipated
like a shadow, when it shall please the God for whom we combat.” Thus
Louis forgot himself and his state, and before the infidels, the king
of France was but a simple soldier of Jesus Christ.
This discourse animated the courage of the barons and knights; orders
were given for the whole fleet to prepare for action. In every vessel
the warriors embraced each other with joy at the approach of peril;
such as quarrels had alienated, swore to forget all divisions and
injuries, and to conquer or to die together. Joinville says he forced
two knights, who had been irreconcilable enemies, to make peace, by
persuading them that their discord might draw down the maledictions of
Heaven, and that union among the Christian soldiers could alone open to
them the road to Egypt.
Whilst the Crusaders were thus preparing, the Mussulmans neglected
nothing for their defence; their sentinels had perceived the Christian
fleet, from the walls of Damietta, and the news was soon spread
through the city; a bell, which had remained in the great mosque since
the conquest of John of Brienne, gave the signal of danger, and was
heard on both sides of the river. Four Mussulman galleys advanced to
reconnoitre the strength of the Crusaders; three of them were sunk, and
the fourth, getting back with great difficulty to the Nile, announced
to the infidels what enemies they had to contend with.
In the mean time the Christian fleet advanced in order of battle, and
cast anchor within a quarter of a league of the coast, at the moment at
which the sun had performed half his daily course. The shore and sea
presented the most imposing spectacle; the coast of Egypt was _lined
with all the powers of the soldan, who were people goodly to look
upon_. The sea appeared to be covered with ships, over which floated
the banners of the cross. The Mussulman fleet, laden with soldiers and
machines of war, defended the entrance of the Nile. Fakreddin, the
leader of the infidel army, appeared amidst their ranks in a panoply
so splendid, that Joinville, in his surprise, compares him to the sun.
The heavens and the earth resounded with the noise of the bended horns
and the naccaires,[296] a kind of enormous kettledrum, a thing very
frightful to hear, and very strange to the French.[297]
All the leaders assembled in council in the king’s vessel; some
proposed to defer the descent till the vessels which had been dispersed
by the tempest should rejoin them: “To attack the infidels without
having all their forces, would be to give them an advantage that might
greatly elevate their pride; and even if success were certain, it
appeared but just to wait, that all the Crusaders might have their
share of the glory they came so far to seek.” Some went still further,
and spoke of the embarrassments and perils of a descent in an unknown
country; of the disorders which must accompany a first attack; and of
the difficulty of rallying the army and fleet, if the obstacles they
met with should prove invincible. Louis IX. did not at all agree with
this opinion: “We have not come thus far,” he said, “to listen coolly
to the menaces and insults of our enemies, or to remain, during several
days motionless spectators of their preparations. To temporize is to
raise their courage, and weaken the ardour of the French warriors. We
have neither road nor port, in which we can shelter ourselves from
the winds, or from the unexpected attacks of the Saracens; a second
tempest may again disperse what remains of our fleet, and deprive us
of all means of beginning the war with a chance of success. To-day God
offers us victory; later he will punish us for having neglected the
opportunity to conquer.”
The majority of the leaders were of the opinion of Louis IX., and it
was resolved that the descent should be made on the morrow. A strict
watch was preserved during the night; a vast number of flambeaux were
kept burning, and vessels were placed near the mouth of the Nile, to
observe the motions of the Saracens.
At daybreak the whole fleet weighed anchor, and the Mussulmans at the
same time got under arms. Their infantry and cavalry occupied the
entire shore of the point at which they expected the Crusaders to land.
When the vessels drew near the shore, the Christian warriors got into
the barks that accompanied the fleet, and ranged themselves in two
lines. Louis IX., accompanied by the two princes his brothers, and his
chosen knights, placed himself at the right point. The cardinal legate,
bearing the cross of the Saviour, was on his right hand, and in a bark
in front of him floated the oriflamme of France.
The count of Jaffa, of the illustrious family of Brienne, was at the
left point towards the mouth of the Nile; he appeared at the head
of the knights from the isle of Cyprus and the barons of Palestine.
He was on board the lightest bark of the fleet. This boat bore the
arms of the counts of Jaffa, painted on its poop and prow. Around his
standard floated banderoles of a thousand colours, and three hundred
rowers impelled the vessel through the waves like the flight of the
swallow over the stream. Erard of Brienne, surrounded by a chosen
troop, occupied the centre of the line, with Baldwin of Rheims, who
commanded a thousand warriors. The knights and barons stood erect in
their boats, looking earnestly at the shore, lance in hand, with their
horses beside them. In the front and on the wings of the army, a crowd
of crossbow-men were placed to keep off the enemy.[298]
As soon as they were within bow-shot, a shower of stones, arrows,
and javelins was poured at the same instant from the shore and from
the line of the Crusaders. The ranks of the Christians appeared for
a moment shaken. The king commanded the rowers to redouble their
efforts to gain the shore. He himself set the first example; in spite
of the legate, who endeavoured to restrain him, he plunged into the
waves, in full armour, his buckler over his breast, and his sword in
hand; the water being up to his shoulders: the whole Christian army,
after the example of the king, cast themselves into the sea, crying,
“_Montjoie! St. Denis!_” This multitude of men and horses, endeavouring
to gain the shore, elevated the waves which broke at the feet of the
Saracens; the warriors pressed on, clashing against each other in their
progress—nothing was heard but the noise of the waves and the oars,
the cries of the soldiers and the sailors, and the tumultuous shock of
the barks and vessels, which advanced in disorder.
The Mussulman battalions assembled on the shore could not stop the
French warriors. Joinville and Baldwin of Rheims landed the first;
after them came the count of Jaffa. They were drawing up in order of
battle, when the cavalry of the Saracens came pouring down upon them;
the Crusaders closed in their ranks, covered themselves with their
bucklers, and presenting the points of their lances, checked the
impetuosity of the enemy. All their companions who had reached the
shore, immediately formed in rear of this battalion.
Already the oriflamme was planted on the shore; Louis had landed.
Without giving the least reflection to the danger, he immediately fell
on his knees to offer up his thanks to Heaven; and springing up again,
filled with fresh ardour, called his bravest knights around him. An
Arab historian relates that the king of the Franks then caused his tent
to be pitched, which was of a bright scarlet, and attracted all eyes.
At length, all the army being landed, a sanguinary contest began on
every part of the coast; the Saracens and Franks, seeking and attacking
each other, formed one conflicting mass. Nobody remained inactive; the
two fleets quickly became engaged at the mouth of the Nile. Whilst
the shore and the sea resounded thus with the shock of arms, Queen
Marguerite and the duchess of Anjou, who remained on board a vessel at
a distance, awaited in terrible anxiety the issue of the double battle;
they offered up fervent prayers, and pious ecclesiastics assembled
around them, joined in holy psalms to obtain the protection of the God
of armies.
The fleet of the Saracens was soon dispersed; many of the vessels
were sunk, the remainder escaped up the river. In the mean time, the
troops of Fakreddin, broken in all directions, retired in the greatest
confusion; the French pursuing them up to their intrenchments. After
a last desperate struggle, the Mussulmans abandoned their camp and the
western bank of the Nile, leaving several of their emirs on the field
of battle: nothing could resist the French, animated by the presence
and the example of their king.
In the course of the battle several messenger pigeons had been sent to
the sultan of Cairo, whose malady confined him in a small town situated
between Damietta and Mansourah: as no answer was received, a report
of his death began to prevail, and completed the discouragement of
the Egyptian troops. Many of the emirs were impatient to know, and at
the same time were doubtful of the fate that awaited them under a new
reign. Several deserted their standards, and by that means augmented
the disorder: towards evening the whole army dispersed, and the
soldiers, abandoned by their leaders, thought of nothing but seeking
safety in flight.[299] The Crusaders remained masters of the coast
and of both banks of the Nile; and this glorious victory had cost but
little Christian blood, for only two or three knights were killed: of
the French nobles the army had only to deplore the count de la Marche,
who appeared to seek death, and, dying thus by the side of his king,
expiated, say our historians, his numerous treasons and crimes.
Towards the end of the day, the tents were pitched on the field of
battle; the clergy chanted the _Te Deum_, and the night was passed in
rejoicings. Whilst the victorious army was thus giving itself up to
exultation, the greatest confusion reigned in Damietta; the fugitives
had passed through the city, spreading, as they went, the contagion
of the fear that pursued them. Fakreddin himself gave no orders for
the security of the place: the inhabitants expected every instant to
see the French enter; some dreaded a surprise, others feared a siege;
there was no one to reassure them, and the darkness of night came on
to complete their terror and confusion. Fear rendered them barbarous;
they pitilessly massacred all the Christians that were in the city;
the troops, on retiring, pillaged the houses and set fire to the public
edifices; whole families abandoned their homes, carrying with them
their furniture and movable wealth. The garrison was composed of the
bravest of the Arab tribe of the Benou-Kenaneh;[300] but fear gained
dominion over them as well as the rest; they abandoned the towers
and the ramparts intrusted to their guardianship, and fled away with
the army of Fakreddin. Before the dawn of day, the city was without
defenders, and almost without inhabitants.
The columns of flame that arose from the bosom of the city were soon
observed in the Christian camp; the whole horizon was on fire. On
the morrow, at daybreak, the soldiers advanced towards the city, all
the gates of which they found open. They met with nothing in the
streets but the carcasses of the victims immolated by the despair and
fanaticism of the infidels, and a few living Christians, who, having
contrived to conceal themselves from the murderers and executioners,
had, in their turn, massacred all the Mussulmans whom age and
infirmities prevented from flying with their compatriots. The soldiers
returned to announce what they had seen, and could scarcely gain credit
from their companions. The army advanced cautiously in order of battle.
When they were assured that the city was deserted, the Crusaders took
possession of it. They employed themselves, in the first place, to
stop the progress of the flames; then the soldiers spread themselves
throughout the city, for the purpose of pillaging it, and all that
escaped the conflagration became the reward of victory.
In the mean time, the king of France, the pope’s legate, and
the patriarch of Jerusalem, followed by a crowd of prelates and
ecclesiastics, entered Damietta in procession, and repaired to the
great mosque, which was once more converted into a church, and
consecrated to the Holy Virgin, the mother of Jesus Christ. The French
monarch, the clergy, and all the leaders of the army, marched with
heads uncovered and barefooted, singing psalms of thanksgiving, and
attributing to God all the glory of this miraculous conquest.
The news of this victory was soon spread through all the Egyptian
provinces. The continuator of Tabary, who was then at Cairo, informs us
in his History, that this event was considered as one of the greatest
calamities. All Mussulmans were sunk in despondency and fear; the most
brave even despaired of being able to save Egypt.
Negmeddin was still ill, and unable to mount on horseback; the defeat
of his army, and the victory of the Christians, were announced to him
by the soldiers and inhabitants that had fled from Damietta. He broke
into a violent rage against the garrison, and pronounced a sentence of
instant death upon fifty-four of the most guilty: in vain they alleged
the retreat of the emir Fakreddin as an excuse; the sultan said they
merited death for having feared the arms of their enemies more than the
anger of their master. One of these, condemned to suffer with his son,
a young man of singular beauty, implored the sultan to allow him to
die first; the sultan refused even this grace, and the unhappy father
underwent the agony of seeing his son killed before his eyes, ere he
himself was handed over to the executioner. When we reflect upon the
barbarity of these executions, we are astonished that a prince without
an army should find instruments to execute his wrath, or even that he
should dare to display it in this frightful manner upon deserters and
cowards; but this public and awful exhibition of punishment, which
kept up the belief in the power of the master, acted strongly upon the
minds of the multitude, and assisted in bringing back the vulgar crowd
of the Mussulman soldiery to discipline and order. But it was not thus
with the principal emirs; already but little disposed to tremble before
a sovereign whom they regarded as their own work, and who stood in
such need of their support. The sultan would willingly have punished
Fakreddin, but the circumstances, says an Arabian historian, dictated
patience. He contented himself with addressing a few reproaches to him.
“The presence of these Franks,” said he to him, “must have something
very terrible in it, since men like you cannot support it during one
whole day.” These words created more indignation than fear among the
emirs that were present, and some of them looked at Fakreddin, as if
to tell him they were ready to sacrifice the sultan; but the print of
the cold hand of death was on the brow of the sultan, and the sight of
a dying man took away the wish to commit a useless crime:—deplorable
situation of a prince who had within a few leagues of him a formidable
enemy, that he was not able to contend with; near him traitors, that
he did not dare to punish; and who, whilst seeing his authority every
day diminish, and feeling himself hourly dying, appeared to have no
salvation to expect for either himself or his empire!
During this time the Crusaders established themselves in Damietta
without obstacle; Queen Marguerite and the other princesses, with the
legate and the clergy, occupied the palaces and principal houses; the
rest of the city was abandoned to the pilgrims who did not bear arms:
the towers and ramparts were guarded by five hundred knights, and the
Christian army was encamped upon the plain on the banks of the Nile.
In this situation the Crusaders only thought of enjoying the fruits of
their victory in peace, and appeared to have forgotten that they had
still enemies to contend with.
The sultan of Cairo had caused himself to be transported to Mansourah,
where he endeavoured to rally his army, and re-establish discipline
among the troops. Whether he had recovered from his terror, or that he
was willing to conceal his alarm and the progress of his malady, he
sent several messages to Louis IX. In one of these letters, Negmeddin,
joining menaces to irony, congratulated the king of France upon his
arrival in Egypt, and asked him at what period it would please him to
depart again. The Mussulman prince added, among other things, that
the quantity of provisions and agricultural instruments with which
the Crusaders had burdened their vessels, appeared to him to be a
useless precaution; and to perform the duties of hospitality towards
the Franks, in a manner worthy of himself and them, he engaged to
supply them with corn during their sojourn in his states. Negmeddin,
in another message, offered the king of France a general battle on the
25th day of June, in a place that should be determined upon. Louis IX.
answered the first letter of the sultan by saying that he had landed in
Egypt on the day he had appointed, and as to the day of his departure,
he should think about it at leisure. With regard to the proposed
battle, the king contented himself with replying, that he would neither
accept the day nor choose the place, because all days and all places
were equally fit for fighting with infidels. The French monarch added,
that he would attack the sultan wherever he should meet with him; that
he would pursue him at all times and without intermission; and would
treat him as an enemy till God had touched his heart, and Christians
might consider him as a brother.
Fortune presented King Louis with an opportunity and the means of
accomplishing his threats. The Crusaders, whom the tempest had
separated from the fleet, continued to arrive every day, and the
knights of the Temple and of St. John, who had been accused of being
anxious for peace, joined the banners of the army, and breathed nothing
but war. They were acquainted with the country, and with the best
manner of combating the infidels; and with this useful reinforcement,
the king was able to undertake an expedition against Alexandria, or,
by obtaining possession of Mansourah, render himself master of the
route to Cairo. After the taking of Damietta, several of the leaders
had proposed to pursue the Mussulmans, and take advantage of the terror
that the first victory of the Christians had inspired. But the period
was approaching at which the waters of the Nile began to rise, and the
remembrance of the overthrow of Pelagius and John of Brienne, dispelled
the idea of marching against the capital of Egypt. Before he pursued
his conquests, Louis wished to wait the arrival of his brother, the
count of Poictiers, who was to embark with the _arrière_ ban of the
kingdom of France. Most historians view in this delay the cause of all
the evils that afterwards befell the Crusaders. We have nothing like
sufficient positive documents to test the truth of their opinion; but
we may say with certainty, that the inaction of the Christian army
became, from that time, a source of most fatal disorders.
These disorders began to break out when the division took place of the
booty made at the taking of Damietta. To animate the courage of the
Crusaders, the treasures of this city, the entrepôt of the merchandises
of the East, had often been boasted of; but as the richest quarters had
been destroyed by the conflagration, and as the inhabitants had, when
they fled, taken their most valuable effects with them, the spoils were
very far from answering the hopes of the victorious army. In spite of
the threats of the legate, several of the Crusaders had not brought all
that fell into their hands to the common stock. The whole of the booty
obtained in the city only produced the sum of six thousand _livres
tournois_,[301] to be divided among the Crusaders, whose surprise and
indignation found vent in violent murmurs.
As it had been determined that no division should be made of the
provisions, but that they should be preserved in the royal magazines,
for the support of the army, this resolution, so contrary to ancient
usages, gave birth to loud complaints. Joinville informs us that the
_prud’homme_ John of Valery, whose stern probity and bravery were the
admiration of the whole army, addressed some warm representations
to the king on this subject. John of Valery alleged the laws of the
Holy Land, and the custom pursued till that time in the crusades; he
mentioned the example of John of Brienne, who, at the first conquest
of Damietta, had only retained one-third of the riches and provisions
found in the city, abandoning the rest to the general army. This
custom was even less consecrated by the holy wars than by the feudal
laws, according to which every lord carried on the war at his own
expense, and by right had a share in all the plunder obtained from
the enemy. But it might be objected, that Louis IX. furnished most
of the leaders of the army with money, and by that the counts and
barons had renounced the conditions of the feudal compact. This law
of the division of provisions, which had, in fact, been observed in
preceding crusades, sufficiently accounts for the scarcity that had so
often desolated the Christian armies. The pious monarch was anxious
to avoid evils that were the fruit of want of prudence and foresight,
and refused to listen to the complaints of most of the French nobles.
Thus, says Joinville, scarcity continued, and made the people very much
dissatisfied.[302]
This spirit of dissatisfaction was quickly joined by other disorders,
the consequences of which were still more deplorable. The knights
forgot, in their fatal inactivity, both their warlike virtues and the
object of the holy war. The riches of Egypt and the East being promised
to them, the lords and barons made haste to consume, in festivities and
pleasures, the money which they had obtained from the liberality of the
king, or by the sale of their lands and castles. The passion for gaming
had got entire possession of both leaders and soldiers; after losing
their fortune, they risked even their horses and arms. Even beneath the
shadow of the standards of Christ, the Crusaders gave themselves up to
all the excesses of debauchery; the contagion of the most odious vices
pervaded all ranks, and places of prostitution were found even in the
close vicinity of the pavilion inhabited by the pious monarch of the
French.
To satisfy the boundless taste for luxury and pleasure, recourse was
had to all sorts of violent means. The leaders of the army pillaged the
traders that provisioned the camp and the city; they imposed enormous
tributes upon them, and this assisted greatly in bringing on scarcity.
The most ardent made distant excursions, surprised caravans, devastated
towns and plains, and bore away Mussulman women, whom they brought in
triumph to Damietta. The sharing even of this sort of booty often gave
rise to angry quarrels, and the whole camp resounded with complaints,
threats, and confusion.
One of the most afflicting phases of this picture was, that the
authority of the king became less respected daily; as corruption
increased, the habits of obedience declined; the laws were without
power, and virtue had no longer any empire. Louis IX. met with
opposition to his wishes, even from the princes of his own family.
The count d’Artois, a young, ardent, and presumptuous prince, unable
to endure either rivalry or contradiction, proud of his military
renown, and jealous to excess of that of others, was in the habit of
constantly provoking the other leaders, and of heaping upon them,
without motive, the most outrageous affronts. The earl of Salisbury,
to whom he had behaved very ill, complained of him to Louis, and
being unable to obtain the satisfaction he demanded, in his anger
pronounced those memorable words: “_You are then not a king, if you
are unable to administer justice._” This indocility of the princes,
and the licentiousness of the great, completed the disorder; every day
relaxation of discipline was observed to increase; the guarding of the
camp, which extended far over the plains and along the banks of the
Nile, was scarcely attended to; the advanced posts of the Christian
army were constantly exposed to the attacks of the enemy, without being
able to oppose any other means of resistance than imprudent and rash
bravery, which only increased the danger.
Among the Mussulman soldiers sent to harass the Crusaders, the most
successful in their mission were the Bedouin Arabs; intrepid warriors,
indefatigable horsemen, having no other country but the desert,
no other property but their horses and arms, the hopes of plunder
supported them through all toils, and taught them to brave all dangers.
With the Arabs of the desert were joined some Carismian horsemen, who
had escaped from the ruin of their warlike nation. Accustomed to live
by brigandage, both these watched night and day, to dog the Christian
soldiers, and appeared to possess the instinct and activity of those
wild animals that prowl constantly around the dwellings of man in
search of their prey. The sultan of Cairo promised a golden byzant for
every Christian head that should be brought into his camp; sometimes
the Arabs and Carismians surprised the Crusaders who wandered from
the army, and often took advantage of the darkness of night to get
access to the camp; sentinels asleep on their posts, knights in bed in
their tents, were struck by invisible hands, and when day appeared to
lighten the scene of carnage, the barbarians fled along the banks of
the Nile, to demand their wages of the sultan of Egypt.
These surprises and nocturnal attacks had a considerable effect in
reanimating the courage of the Mussulmans. To raise the confidence of
the multitude and the army, great care was taken to exhibit the heads
of the Christians; all captives were paraded about in triumph, and the
least advantage obtained over the Franks was celebrated throughout
Egypt. Contemporary historians, led away by common exaggeration,
talk of the most trifling combats as memorable victories; and we are
astonished, at the present day, to read in the history of a period
so abounding in great military events, that in the month of Ramadan
thirty-seven Christians were brought in chains to Cairo, that they
were followed, some days afterwards, by thirty-eight other captives,
among whom were distinguished five knights. The activity of Negmeddin
appeared to increase as his end approached. He employed the greatest
exertions to get together all his troops; was indefatigably attentive
in watching the movements of the Crusaders, and seldom failed to take
advantage of their errors. Men were employed night and day in repairing
the towers and fortifications of Mansourah; the Mussulman fleet, which
had ascended the Nile, cast anchor immediately in front of the city.
Whilst these preparations were going on, news arrived that the garrison
of Damascus had taken possession of the city of Sidon, belonging to
the Franks, and that the important place of Carac had just declared in
favour of Negmeddin. This unexpected intelligence, the sight of the
prisoners, but above all, the inactivity of the Christian army, which
was attributed to fear, completed the dissipation of the terror of
the Mussulmans. Whilst new reinforcements were every day arriving in
the camp of the sultan, the people flocked in crowds to the mosques
of Cairo and the other cities of Egypt, to invoke the protection of
Heaven, and return thanks to the God of Mahomet, for having prevented
the Christians from taking advantage of their victories.