And if he should be ever tempted to come to avenge his defeat; if any

motive should bring him back to these places;

Tell him, that the house of the son of Lokman is reserved for

him; that he will still find there both his chains and the eunuch

Sabyh.”[326]

Whilst Louis IX. was landing at Ptolemaïs, general consternation

prevailed in the West; as it always happens in distant wars, fame had

spread the most extraordinary reports relative to the expedition of

the Crusaders. At first it was believed that the Christian standards

were floating from the walls of Cairo and Alexandria; but to these news

other rumours soon succeeded, announcing great disasters. The most

marvellous accounts had found plenty of credulous minds in France to

receive them; they refused to believe in reverses, and the first who

spoke of them were given up to the hands of justice, as enemies of

religion and of the kingdom. The sinister reports, however, were not

long in being confirmed; the people passed from the excess of joy to

the excess of grief; there was not a family in the kingdom that had not

to deplore a loss in the disasters of which they acquired the painful

certainty. But for the French, that which rendered so many misfortunes

irreparable, and for which no one could find consolation, was the

captivity of the king! Dances, festivals, spectacles,[327] everything

that bore the air of joy or pleasure, was forbidden: the kingdom,

plunged in sorrow and abasement, appeared, all at once, to be like one

of those cities of which the Scripture speaks,—threatened with the

wrath of God, they gave themselves up to grief, and covered themselves

with the mourning garb of penitence.

The whole Church deplored so great a misfortune with torrents of tears;

the father of the faithful was nearly in despair for the safety of

Christendom. He addressed letters filled with affliction to all the

prelates of the West. He ordered the clergy to put up public prayers;

he exhorted the faithful to take up arms. Innocent wrote to Blanche

to console her, and to Louis to sustain him in his adversity. When

addressing the king of France, he is astonished at finding one man

oppressed by so many calamities, and endowed with so many virtues; and

demands of God what justice had been able to find in the most Christian

of kings, which deserved to be expiated by misfortunes so great.

England was likewise much afflicted by the captivity of the French

monarch; the barons and knights were indignant towards their king for

having prevented them from going into the East to share the perils

of the Crusaders. The King of Castile, then at war with the Moors,

was sensible only of the evils of the Christians beyond the seas, and

swore to go and fight with the victorious infidels on the banks of

the Nile or the Jordan. No monarch of the West expressed more grief

than Frederick II., emperor of Germany; in his letters he spoke of

the king of France as his best friend, and deplored the disasters of

the crusade with bitterness. Frederick, still at variance with the

pope, did not neglect this opportunity of accusing Innocent, whom he

reproached with the ruin of the Christians. Frederick repaired to

Sicily, for the purpose of arming a fleet that might convey prompt

assistance to the Crusaders; and whilst the vessels were getting ready,

he sent an embassy into the East, to solicit of the sultan of Egypt the

deliverance of the king of France and his army.

Amidst the universal desolation, a single Christian city gave

demonstrations of joy: Florence, according to Villani, celebrated the

reverses of the French Crusaders with festivities. Some pirates from

Genoa, Pisa, and Venice took advantage of the disasters of Louis IX. to

put to sea, and pillage the Crusaders that were returning into Europe.

The joy of the Florentines, and the brigandages of the Italian pirates,

were subjects of great scandal for all Christendom.

Louis IX., on his arrival at Ptolemaïs, had only been able to retain

a small number of faithful knights; many of the French nobles, the

companions of his captivity, instead of following him to Palestine,

returned into the West. Among those who had quitted the banner of the

crusade, were the duke of Burgundy and the brave count of Brittany: the

latter, worn out with sickness and covered with wounds, died on his

passage: his mortal remains, preserved by his knights, were transported

to the abbey of Villeneuve, near Nantes, where, many ages afterwards,

his tomb was still to be seen.

The appearance of the sad remains of the Christian army must have

excited the compassion of the inhabitants of Ptolemaïs. Both knights

and soldiers were almost naked; the seneschal of Champagne, in order

to appear at the king’s table, was forced to make himself a vestment

of the shreds of a bed-quilt. An epidemic disease, the fruit of

lengthened misery and all sorts of privations, broke out among the

Crusaders, and soon extended its ravages to the city. Joinville, who

was lodged in the house of the curé of Ptolemaïs, informs us that he

saw daily twenty convoys pass beneath his windows; and that every time

he heard the funeral words, “_Libera me, Domine_” he burst into tears,

and addressed himself to God crying, _Mercy!_

In the mean time the king of France was engaged in endeavouring to

deliver the captives that still remained in Egypt. These captives

amounted to twelve thousand, and most of them might be able to resume

their arms and serve under the banner of the crusade. Louis sent his

ambassadors to pay the four hundred thousand francs that he still owed

to the Saracens, and to press the execution of the last treaties.

These ambassadors found Egypt filled with troubles; the emirs were

divided into several factions, all disputing for power: fanaticism

animated these divisions; they reciprocally accused each other of

having favoured or spared the Christians. Amidst these debates, many

captives had been massacred, and some forced to abjure the faith of

Christ. The messengers of Louis IX. could scarcely obtain a hearing;

in answer to their demands, they were told that the king of France

might esteem himself fortunate in having regained his liberty, and that

the Mamelukes would soon go and besiege him in Ptolemaïs. At length

the Christian ambassadors were obliged to quit Egypt without having

obtained anything; and only brought back to Palestine four hundred

prisoners, the greater part of whom had paid their own ransom.

On their return, Louis IX. was plunged in the deepest distress; he had

just received a letter from Queen Blanche, who exhorted him to leave

the East. He, thereupon, was desirous of returning to France; but how

could he make up his mind to abandon twelve thousand Christians in

slavery, or to quit the Holy Land when it was threatened with invasion?

The three military orders, the barons, and the nobles of Palestine,

conjured Louis not to abandon them; repeating with accents of despair,

that if they were deprived of his support, the Christians of Syria

would have no other resource than to follow him into the West.

Louis was touched by their prayers, but before he would form a

resolution, he was desirous of consulting his two brothers and the

principal nobles that had remained with him. He exhibited to them the

reasons he had for returning to France, and those that would lead him

to remain in Palestine: on the one side, his kingdom threatened by the

king of England, and the impossibility of his undertaking anything

against the infidels, ought to induce him to quit the East; on the

other side, the want of good faith in the emirs, who had failed in

executing the first conditions of the treaty; the perils to which the

Holy Land would be exposed by his departure; the hope, in short, of

receiving succours, and profiting by them, to break the chains of the

Christian prisoners and deliver Jerusalem, in some sort, imposed upon

him the obligation to defer his return.

After having thus described the state of things, without saying a word

that might reveal his own opinion, he requested his knights and barons

to reflect seriously upon the line of action it would be best for them

to pursue. On the following Sunday he again convoked them, and demanded

their opinion. The first that spoke was Guy de Malvoisin, whose bravery

in fight and wisdom in council were admired and respected by all the

Crusaders. “Sire,” said he, addressing Louis, “when I consider the

honour of your person and the glory of your reign, I do not think you

ought to remain in this country. Remember that flourishing army with

which you left the ports of Cyprus, and then turn your eyes upon the

warriors you have with you; on that day we reckoned two thousand eight

hundred knights with banners in the Christian army; now, one hundred

knights constitute your whole force; most of them are sick; they have

neither arms nor horses, nor the means of procuring any; they have not

the power of serving you with either honour or advantage. You do not

possess a single city of war in the East; that in which you now are

belongs to several different nations; by remaining here, you inspire

no fear in the infidels, and you allow the audacity of your enemies

in Europe to increase; you expose yourself to the risk of losing both

the kingdom of France, where your absence may embolden ambitious

neighbours, and the kingdom of Jesus Christ, upon which your presence

will draw the attacks of the Mussulmans. We are all persuaded that the

pride of the Saracens should be punished; but it is not in a country

far distant from home that the preparations for a decisive and glorious

war can be carried on. Thus, then, we advise you to return into the

West, where you will watch in safety over the welfare of your states;

where you will obtain, amidst a peace which is your own work, the

necessary means for avenging our defeats, and, some day, repairing the

reverses we have undergone.”

The duke of Anjou, the duke of Poictiers, and most of the French

nobles, who spoke after Guy de Malvoisin, expressed the same opinion.

When they came to the count of Jaffa, he refused to speak, saying,

“that he possessed several castles in Palestine, and might be accused

of defending his own personal interests.” Upon being pressed by the

king to give his opinion as the others had done, he contented himself

with saying, “that the glory of the Christian arms, that the safety

of the land of Jesus Christ, required that the Crusaders should not

at that time return to Europe.” When it came to Joinville’s turn, the

good seneschal remembered the advice that his cousin, the seigneur

de Bollaincourt, had given him on the eve of his departure for the

crusade. “You are going beyond the seas,”—it was thus the good

seigneur Bollaincourt expressed himself,—“but take care how you

return; no knight, either poor or rich, can come back without shame,

if he leaves any of the common people in whose company he quits France

in the hands of the Saracens.” Joinville, full of the remembrance of

these words, declared that they could not abandon the great numbers

of Christian prisoners without shame. “These unhappy captives,” added

he, “were in the service of the king as well as in the service of God;

and never will they escape from their captivity if the king should go

away.” There was not one of the lords and knights who had not either

relations or friends among the prisoners; therefore, many of them could

not restrain their tears whilst listening to Joinville; but this kindly

feeling was not sufficiently strong to stifle in their hearts their

desire to revisit their own country. In vain the seneschal added that

the king had still a portion of his treasure left; that he could raise

troops in the Morea and other countries; and that with the succours

which would come from Europe, they should soon be in a condition to

renew the war. These reasons, with many others, made no impression upon

the greater part of the assembly: they could only view the crusade as

a long and painful exile. The sieur de Chastenai, and Beaumont marshal

of France, were all that agreed with the opinion of Joinville. “What

shall we reply,” said they, “to those who shall ask us on our return

what we have done with the heritage and the soldiers of Jesus Christ?

Listen to the unfortunate inhabitants of Palestine: they accuse us

of having brought war to them, and reproach us with preparing their

entire ruin by our departure. If we do not receive succours, it will

be then time enough to go; but why anticipate days of despair? The

Crusaders, it is true, are not in great numbers; but can we forget

that their leader, even when in chains, made himself respected by

the Saracens? Report, likewise, tells us, that discord prevails

among our enemies, and that the sultan of Damascus has declared war

against the Mamelukes of Egypt.” These two knights spoke amidst the

murmurs of their companions; and the more reasonable the opinions they

advanced appeared, the greater was the impatience with which they were

listened to. The seigneur de Beaumont was about to continue; but he

was interrupted with great warmth by his uncle, John de Beaumont, who

loaded him with the most bitter reproaches. In vain the king urged the

right that every one had to express his opinion; authority of blood

prevailed over the authority of the king; the stern old man continued

to raise his voice, and reduced his nephew to silence. When he had

received the opinions of the assembly, the king dismissed them, and

convoked them again for the following Sunday. Upon leaving the council,

Joinville found himself exposed to the railleries and insults of the

knights, for having expressed an opinion contrary to that of the

general meeting. To complete his chagrin, he thought he had incurred the

displeasure of the king; and in his despair, he formed the resolution

of joining the prince of Antioch, his relation. As he was revolving

these gloomy thoughts in his mind, the king took him aside, and opening

his heart to him, declared that it was his intention to remain some

time longer in Palestine. Then Joinville forgot all the scoffs of

the barons and knights; he was so joyous with what the king had told

him, that all his griefs were at an end. On the following Sunday the

barons assembled for the third time. The king of France invoked the

inspiration of the Holy Ghost by a sign of the cross, and pronounced

the following words:—“Seigneurs, I thank equally those who have

advised me to remain in Asia, and those who have advised me to return

to the West. Both, I am convinced, had no other view but the interest

of my kingdom and the glory of Jesus Christ. After the most serious

and lengthened reflection, I think I may, without injury or peril to

my states, prolong my sojourn in this country. The queen, my mother,

has defended the honour of my crown in troublesome times; she will now

exhibit the same firmness, and will meet with fewer obstacles. No, my

kingdom will not suffer by my absence; but if I quit this land, for

which Europe has made so many sacrifices, who will protect it against

its enemies? Is it to be wished, that, having come here to defend the

kingdom of Jerusalem, I shall be hereafter reproached with its ruin? I

remain then to save that which is left, to deliver our prisoners, and

if possible, to take advantage of the discords of the Saracens. I am

not willing, however, to impose restraint upon anybody; such as are

desirous of quitting the East are free to depart; as to those who shall

determine to remain beneath the banners of the cross, I promise that

they shall want for nothing, and that I will ever share with them both

good and ill fortune.”

After these words, says Joinville, most were astonished, and many

began to shed hot tears. From that time, the dukes of Anjou and

Poictiers, with a great number of the leaders, made preparations for

their departure. Louis charged them with a letter addressed to the

clergy, the nobility, and people of his kingdom. In this letter,

Louis described, with a noble simplicity, the victories, defeats, and

captivity of the Christian knights, and conjured his subjects of all

classes to take up arms for the assistance of the Holy Land.

As soon as the two brothers of the king were gone, a levy of soldiers

was commenced, and Palestine was placed in a state of defence. But that

which most materially favoured the Crusaders, and gave a chance of

security to the Christian colonies, was the discord that then prevailed

among the Saracens. After the murder of Almoadam, the Mussulmans

of Syria refused to recognise the authority of the Mamelukes. The

principality and city of Damascus had recently been given up to Nasser,

who was preparing to march against Cairo, at the head of a formidable

army; the greatest agitation reigned amongst the Mamelukes of Egypt,

in whom remorse seemed to be accompanied by fear. The sultana,

Chegger-Eddour, was forced to descend from the throne, and to yield

the supreme authority to the Turcoman Ezz-Eddin, whose wife she had

become. This change allayed agitation for a time; but in such a state

of things, one revolution seemed immediately to bring on another. The

turbulent, restless soldiery, that had overthrown the empire of the

Ayoubites, could neither endure that which was ancient, nor that which

was new. To suppress sedition, the leaders at one time exhibited to

the multitude a child of that family which they had proscribed, and

decorated him with the vain title of sultan. They afterwards declared

that Egypt belonged to the caliph of Bagdad, and that they governed it

in his name.

It was at this period that the sultan of Aleppo and Damascus sent

ambassadors to Louis IX. to invite the French monarch to unite with

him to chastise the pride and the revolt of the soldiery of Cairo.

He promised the Christians to share with them the spoils of the

conquered, and to restore to them the kingdom of Jerusalem. These

brilliant promises were likely to produce an effect upon the king of

France, and at least merited all his attention. The emirs of Egypt

equally solicited the alliance of the Christians, and proposed very

advantageous conditions. In the choice before him, there were powerful

motives to incline the king to the party of the sultan of Damascus.

He had, on one side, to treat with emirs whose good-will was very

uncertain, whose fortune might be transitory, and whose authority was

menaced and tottering. On the other, he had to deal with a powerful

prince, whose authority being much better established, offered a more

sure guarantee to his allies. Another motive, which could not be

indifferent in the eyes of the virtuous monarch, was, that the only

aim of the policy of the Mamelukes was to secure impunity for a great

crime, and that the sovereign of Damascus was aiming to avenge the

cause of princes. All these considerations were, no doubt, presented in

the council of Louis, and must have left the monarch great difficulty

in deciding which side it would be best for him to take. But he could

not forget that he had signed a treaty with the emirs, and that

nothing could liberate him from his oath; but above all, he could not

forget that the Mamelukes still held in their hands the destiny of

twelve thousand Christian prisoners, and that by breaking with them,

he should renounce the hope of delivering the unhappy companions of

his captivity. Louis answered the Syrian ambassadors, that he would

willingly join his arms to those of the sultan of Damascus, if the

Mamelukes did not perform their treaties. At the same time, he sent

John de Valence to Cairo, with directions to offer the emirs peace or

war. The latter promised at length to fulfil all the conditions of the

treaty, if Louis should consent to become their ally and auxiliary:

more than two hundred knights were immediately set at liberty.

These unfortunate victims of the crusade arrived at Ptolemaïs about

the month of October (1251): the people flocked in crowds to see them

land; they exhibited too evident signs of their late captivity, and the

remembrance of what they had undergone, together with their present

wretchedness, drew tears of compassion from all the spectators. These

prisoners, whose chains Louis had succeeded in breaking, brought

with them, in a kind of triumph, a coffin, containing the bones of

Gauthier de Brienne, who fell into the hands of the infidels at the

battle of Gaza, and had been massacred by a furious mob at Cairo. The

clergy accompanied the remains of the Christian hero to the church of

the Hospitallers; and the companions in arms of Gauthier described

his exploits and the glorious death he had undergone for the cause

of Christ. Religion displayed all its pomps, and in its holy songs

celebrated the glory of a martyr, and the devotion that it alone had

inspired. The charity of the faithful relieved and consoled the misery

of the captives, and Louis took into his service all whom age or

infirmities rendered incapable of bearing arms.

The king learnt with much pain that many Christian prisoners still

remained in Egypt. As the Egyptian ambassadors arrived at that time at

Ptolemaïs, Louis IX. declared that they must not at all depend upon the

alliance they came to solicit, if the emirs did not hasten to liberate

all the captives and all the children of Christians brought up in the

Mussulman faith, and even send to him the heads of the Crusaders that

had been exposed upon the walls of Cairo.

Thus the position of the Christians was ameliorated daily by the

divisions among their enemies. The king of France dictated the

conditions to the emirs, and if he had had troops, he might have

repaired some of the reverses he had experienced in Egypt; but the East

furnished him with but a very small number of soldiers, and the West

did not seem at all disposed to send him any supplies.

The king of Castile, who had taken the cross, died at the moment he

was preparing to set out. In England, Henry III., who had likewise

assumed the cross, obtained from the pope and the parliament the

power to levy a tenth upon his people and clergy; he at the same time

imposed enormous taxes upon the Jews of his kingdom. The preachers of

the crusade were directed to announce his approaching departure for

the East, and he himself swore upon the Gospel, in the presence of the

assembled barons and people, that he would go to the Holy Land, at the

head of his army; but after having obtained what he wanted, he forgot

all his promises.

Frederick II., at the moment he was about to assist Louis IX., died

at Naples; and his death proved to be a fresh source of trouble and

agitation for Christendom. Although he had, when dying, bequeathed a

hundred thousand ounces of gold for the succour of the Holy Land, and

by his testament had restored to the Church all that had belonged to

it, Innocent received the news of his death with a joy that he did not

seek to conceal. “Let the Heavens rejoice!” wrote he to the clergy and

people of Sicily; “let the earth be in gladness!” and he pursued with

anathemas the memory of a prince who had borne the title of king of

Jerusalem during thirty-eight years. He excommunicated Conrad, whom

Frederick had named as his successor to the empire; he sent emissaries

into the kingdom of Naples, to corrupt the fidelity of the people;

and ecclesiastics in Germany received the mission to preach a crusade

against the princes of the house of Swabia.

France was not less agitated than other countries on the return of

the dukes of Anjou and Poictiers, the letter of Louis addressed to

his subjects was read in all the churches. This letter revived all

the sorrow that had been felt when the account was received of the

captivity of the king and his army. The exhortations which Louis

addressed to the French to obtain assistance, together with the news

that arrived daily from the East, affected all hearts; and as the

people have no idea of moderation in either grief or joy, a spirit of

sedition, mixed with enthusiasm for the crusade, agitated the cities,

pervaded the provinces, and, for a time, placed the kingdom in peril.

Princes and magnates having failed in their enterprise, the multitude

was led to believe that Christ rejected the great ones of the earth

from his service, and was only willing to have for defenders humble

men, shepherds, and labourers. A man appeared, who undertook, with the

help of this popular opinion, to inflame the public mind, and to create

a general movement. This man, named Jacob, born in Hungary, and far

advanced in age, was said to have preached the crusade of children,

of which we have spoken in the twelfth book of this work. A long

beard, which descended to his girdle, with a pale face and mysterious

language, gave him the air of a prophet. He passed from hamlet to

hamlet, saying that he was sent by Heaven to deliver the city of God,

and avenge the king of France. Shepherds left their flocks, labourers

laid down the plough to follow his footsteps. Jacob, who was called the

master of Hungary, caused a standard to be borne before him, upon which

was painted a lamb, the symbol of the Saviour of the world; provisions

were brought to him from all parts, and his disciples asserted that,

like Christ, he had the gift of multiplying loaves.

The name of _Pastors_ was given to these village Crusaders. Their

first meetings, to which little attention was paid, were held in the

provinces of Flanders and Picardy; they then directed their course

towards Amiens, and afterwards towards the capital; increasing as they

went, with a crowd of vagabonds, thieves, and prostitutes. Although

they had committed some disorders, Queen Blanche tolerated them, in

the hope they might be the means of procuring some assistance for the

king. The implied protection of the queen regent inflamed their pride,

and impunity increased their license and redoubled their audacity.

The impostor Jacob and the other heads of his gang, with whom chance

or corruption had associated him, declaimed with vehemence against the

wealth and the supremacy of the clergy, which pleased the multitude

they drew at their heels; to the great scandal of all pious men, they

themselves performed sacerdotal functions, and took the place, in

the pulpits, of the sacred orators, employing violence against the

ministers of the altars, and seeking to awaken the passions of the

people. At length, assembled to the number of more than a hundred

thousand, these redoubtable pilgrims left Paris, and divided themselves

into several troops, to repair to the coast, whence they were to embark

for the East. The city of Orleans, which happened to be in their

passage, became the theatre of frightful disorders. The progress of

their enormities at length created serious alarm in the government

and the magistracy; orders were sent to the provinces to pursue and

disperse these turbulent and seditious bands. The most numerous

assemblage of the pastors was fixed to take place at Bourges, where the

master of Hungary was to perform miracles and communicate the will of

Heaven. Their arrival in that city was the signal for murder, fire, and

pillage. The irritated people took up arms and marched against these

disturbers of the public peace; they overtook them between Mortemer and

Villeneuve-sur-le-Cher, where, in spite of their numbers, they were

routed, and received the punishment due to their brigandages. Jacob

had his head cut off by the blow of an axe; many of his companions and

disciples met with death on the field of battle, or were consigned to

punishment; the remainder took to flight.[328]

Thus this storm, formed so suddenly, was dispersed in the same manner;

another band, which had directed its course towards Bordeaux, was

likewise subdued; some of the pastors who succeeded in getting

to England, were served in the same way. A report was spread that

correspondences with the Saracens had been found upon the persons of

their leaders, and they were accused of having formed the project of

delivering up Christian people to the swords of the infidels; which

accusation, however improbable, completed the hatred the people began

to entertain for them. The government, which had not at first strength

enough to oppose them, armed the passions of the multitude against

them, and tranquillity was soon reëstablished in the kingdom.

In the mean time the crusade to the East was preached in most of the

countries of Europe; new indulgences were added to those which had been

accorded to the soldiers of Christ; the bishop of Avignon received

power to absolve those who had struck clerks, or burnt churches; the

same bishop had the faculty of converting all vows, except that of

religion, into a vow for the crusade: similar powers were given to

the prior of the Jacobins at Paris. These new encouragements might

have aroused a momentary ardour in the faithful, if the court of Rome

had not been constantly diverted from the cares of a crusade in the

East, by the war it had declared against the house of Swabia. The

Holy See willingly granted dispensations to Crusaders who took a part

in its cause, or who paid it a tribute; which made the good bishop

of Lincoln accuse Innocent of exchanging the treasures of heaven for

those of earth, and of selling the Crusaders as the heifers and rains

of sacrifice were formerly sold in the Temple. At length, no longer

concealing either his hatred or his ambition, the sovereign pontiff

ordered the Cordeliers to preach a crusade against the heir and

successor of Frederick; the indulgence for those who took the cross

extended to the father and mother of the Crusaders, a thing that had

never taken place in any other crusade. At the moment when Louis IX.

was so earnestly requesting succour, the preaching of this impious

crusade excited great scandal among the French nobility; the new

Crusaders were treated as rebels; Queen Blanche caused their lands to

be seized; and the princes and lords followed the example of the queen

in their domains. The Cordeliers were severely reprimanded, and their

preaching proved ineffectual.

Whilst the crusade against Conrad was being suppressed, no increased

zeal was exhibited for the war in the East. Those who entertained the

warmest attachment for Louis IX. might with justice believe, that by

sending him assistance they should prolong his absence. Thus, in spite

of the reiterated prayers of the king, France, which had shed so many

tears over his captivity, could not resolve to take up arms to succour

him, and was satisfied with putting up vows for his return.

All that Blanche was able to do for her son was to send him a vessel

laden with money, which was lost on the coast of Syria. A small number

of those who had taken the cross in the West, determined to cross the

sea; the young count of Eu, and Raymond count of Turenne, whom the

queen commanded to set out for Palestine, were almost the only nobles

of this party. Most of the knights and barons that had remained in

Palestine with the king, having spent everything, and being entirely

ruined, fixed so high a price upon their services, and, according

to the expression of the commissaries of Louis, _made themselves so

dear_, that the treasury of the monarch would not suffice to support

them.[329] Levies were made in Greece, in Cyprus, and in the Christian

cities of Syria; but these levies only brought to the banners of the

crusade a few adventurers, very ill calculated to share the labours and

dangers of a great enterprise.

Among the warriors whom the love of danger and distant adventures led

at this time to the Holy Land, history speaks of Alemar of Selingan.

This knight had come from a country of the West,[330] in which the

summer, he said, had almost no nights. Selingan and his companions

sought every opportunity for signalizing their skill in arms and their

romantic bravery. Whilst waiting for the happy moment, at which they

might fight with the Saracens, they made war upon the lions, which they

pursued on horseback into the deserts, and killed with their arrows;

which was a subject of great surprise and admiration for the French

warriors.

Another very noble knight also arrived, says Joinville, who was called

De Toucy. The chevalier de Toucy had been regent of the Latin empire

of Constantinople, in the absence of Baldwin, and prided himself upon

belonging to the family of the kings of France. In company with nine

other knights, he abandoned an empire which was falling rapidly to

ruin, in order to endeavor to support the miserable remains of the

kingdom of Jerusalem. Toucy related the misfortunes of Baldwin, and

the deplorable circumstances that had forced a Christian emperor to

ally himself with a chief of the Comans. According to the custom of the

barbarians, the prince of the Comans and the emperor of Constantinople

had punctured themselves, and mixing the blood in a cup, had both

drunk of it, as a sign of alliance and brotherhood. The knights who

accompanied the seigneur de Toucy had borrowed this practice of the

barbarians: the French warriors at first were disgusted with it; but

soon, led away by the strange novelty of the thing, they themselves

mingled their blood with that of their companions, and diluting it

with floods of wine, they got intoxicated together over the mystical

draught, which, as they said, made them brothers.

The manners and customs of the Eastern nations strongly raised

the curiosity and fixed the attention of the Crusaders. When the

missionaries whom Louis IX. had sent into Tartary returned to

Ptolemaïs, the French warriors were never tired of interrogating

and listening to them. Andrew de Lonjumeau, who was at the head of

the mission, had set out from Antioch, and travelling ten leagues

every day, had prosecuted his journey for a year before he arrived

at the place at which the great khan of the Tartars resided. The

missionaries traversed deserts where they met with enormous heaps of

human bones—sad monuments of the victories of a barbarous people: they

related marvellous things of the court of the monarch of the Moguls, of

the manners and customs of the countries they had travelled through, of

the conquests and legislation of Gengiskhan, and of the prodigies which

had prepared the power and greatness of the conqueror of Asia. Among

the extraordinary and somewhat fabulous circumstances they related,

the Christians learned with much joy that the religion of Christ was

extending its empire among the most distant nations; the missionaries

declared they had seen, in a single horde of Tartars, more than eight

hundred chapels, in which the praises of the true God were celebrated.

Louis IX. hoped that the Moguls might some day become auxiliaries of

the Christians in the great struggle against the infidels; and this

hope made him resolve to send fresh missionaries into Tartary.

But if the Crusaders were thus astonished at all they heard concerning

the most distant regions of Asia, they had close to them a barbarous

colony which must have excited their surprise to a still greater

degree. Some months after his arrival, Louis received an embassy from

the Old Man of the Mountains, who, as we have already said, reigned

over about thirty villages or towns, built on the southern declivity of

Mount Libanus. The envoys of the prince of the Assassins, when admitted

into the presence of the king of France, asked him if he was acquainted

with their master. “I have heard of him,” replied the monarch. “Why,

then,” added one of the ambassadors, “have you not sought after his

friendship by sending him presents, as the emperor of Germany, the king

of Hungary, the sultan of Cairo, and so many other great princes have

done?” The king listened to this strange language without anger, and

appointed the ambassadors another audience, at which the grand masters

of the Templars and the Hospitallers were present. The name alone of

the two military orders, which the poniard of the Assassins did not

venture to attack, inspired some degree of terror in the Old Man of the

Mountain, who had been constrained to pay them a tribute. In the second

audience, the two grand masters sternly reproved the ambassadors, and

told them that if the lord of the Mountain did not send presents to the

king of France, his insolence would draw upon him a prompt and just

chastisement. The envoys repeated these threatening words to their

master, who himself experienced some of the fear he wished to inspire,

and sent them back to Louis to express much more pacific sentiments.

Among the presents which they were charged to offer to the king of

the Franks, there were several vases, a chess-board, and an elephant

in rock crystal; to these the lord of the Mountain added a shirt and

a ring, as symbols of alliance, according to which, said the envoys

to the French monarch, “you and our master will remain united as the

fingers of the hand are, and as the shirt is to the body.”[331]

Louis IX. received this new embassy with distinction, and by their

hands sent to the prince of the Assassins vases of gold and silver, and

stuffs of scarlet and silk; he commanded brother Yves, a man learned

in Arabic, to accompany them. Yves, who remained for some time at

the court of the Old Man of the Mountain, on his return related many

curious particulars, which history has not despised. The prince of the

Assassins belonged to the sect of Ali, and professed some admiration

for the Gospel. He had, in particular, a veneration for _Monseigneur

St. Peter_, who, according to his belief, was still living, and whose

soul, he said, had been successively that of Abel, Noah, and Abraham.

Brother Yves spoke strongly of the terror with which the Old Man of

the Mountain inspired his subjects. A fearful silence reigned around

his palace, and when he appeared in public, he was preceded by a

herald-at-arms, who cried with a loud voice, “Whoever you may be, dread

to appear before him who holds the life and death of kings in his

hands.”

Whilst these marvellous recitals were amusing the leisure of the

Crusaders, war was declared between the sultans of Damascus and Cairo.

The Christian warriors, impatient for fight, sighed at being thus

condemned to waste their time in listless idleness. But they mustered

scarcely seven hundred knights beneath the banners of the cross; and

their small number would not permit Louis to think of attempting any

important enterprise.

Whilst anxiously looking forward to the perils and hazards of war,

the holy monarch never relaxed in his endeavours to ameliorate the

destiny and break the chains of the captives who still remained in the

hands of the Mussulmans. But the captivity of the Christian warriors

was not the only grief with which his heart was afflicted: it added

greatly to his sorrow to learn that many of his companions in arms

had embraced Islamism. It is a singular circumstance to remark,[332]

that the Crusaders, whose aim always was to bring about the triumph

of Christianity, present us with frequent examples of apostasy, and

history does not hesitate to affirm, that during the course of the

holy wars more Christians became Mussulmans than Mussulmans became

Christians. Joinville informs us in his Memoirs, that most of the

mariners who manned the Christian fleet in the retreat from Mansourah,

renounced their faith to save their lives: in these disastrous days,

many warriors were unable to resist the menaces of the Saracens, and

the fear of death made them forget a religion for which they had taken

up arms. We have seen what evils the Crusaders had endured in the

expeditions to the East; among the crowd of pilgrims there were always

some who had not sufficient virtue to pass through the ordeal of great

misfortunes: on the arrival of Louis IX. in Egypt, that country already

contained many of these perjured and unfaithful Christians, who, in

the perils and calamities of preceding wars, had forsaken the God of

their fathers. All these renegadoes were despised by the Saracens.

Oriental authors quote a saying of Saladin’s on this subject, which

expresses an opinion generally established, and which was maintained

to the very last days of the crusades; he said that _a good Christian

was never made of a bad Mussulman, nor a good Mussulman of a bad

Christian_. History affords a few details upon the lives of these

degenerate Franks, who had renounced their religion and their country;

many employed themselves in agriculture and the mechanical arts; a

great number were enrolled in the Mussulman armies; some obtained

employments, and succeeded in amassing great wealth. We may well,

however, believe, that remorse empoisoned every moment of their lives,

and would not permit them to enjoy the advantages they had acquired

among the infidels:[333] the religion they had quitted still inspired

them with respect, and the presence and language of the Franks,

who had been their brothers, recalled to them the most saddening

remembrances; but, withheld by I know not what false shame, and as if

God had struck them with an eternal reprobation, they remained chained

to their error by an invincible link, and although sensible of the

misery of living in a foreign land, they did not dare to entertain the

idea of returning to their own country.

One of these renegadoes, born at Provins, who had fought under the

banners of John of Brienne, came to salute Louis IX., and bring him

presents, at the moment the monarch was embarking on the Nile, to

repair to Palestine. As Joinville told him, that if he persisted in

practising the religion of Mahomet, _he would go straight to hell after

his death_; he replied, that he believed the religion of Christ to be

better than that of the prophet of Mecca; but, he added, that if he

returned to the faith of the Christians, he should sink into poverty,

and that during the rest of his life he should be loaded with infamous

reproaches, and be everywhere hooted as a renegado! a renegado! Thus,

the fear of poverty, together with a dread of the judgments of the

world, held fast the deserters from the Christian faith, and prevented

their return to the belief they had abandoned. Louis IX. neglected no

means to bring them back to the right path; his liberality always met

half-way such as were disposed to revert to Christianity; and to shield

them, from the contempt of men, he issued an ordinance that none should

reproach them with their apostasy.

The king of France expended considerable sums in placing several of

the Christian cities in a state of defence; the towers and walls of

Cæsarea, as well as those of Ptolemaïs, were heightened and enlarged;

the walls and fortifications of Jaffa and Caïpha, which were almost

in ruins, were repaired. Amidst these useful labours, carried on in

peace, the warriors remained idle, and not a few of them began to

be forgetful of both military discipline and Gospel morality. The

precaution that the sieur de Joinville took to place his bed in such

a manner as to remove all evil thoughts respecting his familiarity

with women, proves that the morals of the Christian knights were not

entirely free from suspicion at least. Louis was much more severe

against licentiousness of manners than he had been during his abode at

Damietta. History mentions several instances of his severity; and such

was the strangeness of the penal laws charged with the protection of

public decency and morality, that excess of libertinism would at the

present day appear less scandalous than the punishments then inflicted

on the guilty.

The clergy, however, never relaxed in their endeavours to recall the

Crusaders to the principles of the Christian religion; and their

efforts were not fruitless. There was no city, no place in Palestine,

that did not remind the warriors of the holy traditions of the

Scriptures, or of the mercy and justice of God. Many of the French

nobles, who had been models of courage, showed an equally bright

example of devotion and piety; it was common to see the bravest knights

lay down their arms, and assuming the scrip and staff of the pilgrim,

repair to the spots consecrated by the miracles and the presence of

Christ and the holy personages whose memory is preserved by religion.

Louis himself visited Mount Thabor and the village of Cana several

times, and went on a pilgrimage to Nazareth. The sultan of Damascus,

who sought every opportunity of forming an alliance with him, invited

him to come as far as Jerusalem; and this pilgrimage would have crowned

the wishes of the pious monarch; but his barons, and more particularly

the bishops, represented to him that it was not befitting for him to

enter Jerusalem as a simple pilgrim, and that he had come into the East

not only to visit, but to deliver the holy tomb. They added, that the

Western princes who should take the cross after him, would believe,

from his example, that they had fulfilled their duty, and performed

their vow, by merely visiting the holy city; and thus the devotion of

the Crusaders would no longer have the deliverance of the sepulchre

of Christ for its object. Louis IX. yielded to the representations of

the prelates, and consented not to visit Jerusalem at that time, as he

still cherished the hope of one day entering it sword in hand. But this

hope was doomed soon to fade away—God never afterwards permitted the

holy city to be wrested from the yoke of the infidels.

The sultans of Cairo and Damascus continued to negotiate with the

monarch of the Franks. Each of these two Mussulman princes hoped to

have the Christians for allies, and was particularly anxious not to

have them for enemies. Every time they entertained a fear of being

vanquished, the emirs of Egypt renewed their proposals, and they at

length accepted all the conditions that the Christians required. A

treaty was concluded, by which the Mamelukes engaged to liberate all

the captives that remained in Egypt, the children of Christians brought

up in the Mussulman faith, and, which had often been demanded by Louis,

the heads of the martyrs of the cross that had been exposed upon the

walls of Cairo. Jerusalem and all the cities of Palestine, with the

exception of Gaza, Daroum, and two other fortresses, were to be placed

in the hands of the Franks. The treaty likewise stipulated that, during

fifteen years, the kingdom of Jerusalem should have no war with Egypt;

that the two states should combine their forces; and that all conquests

should be shared between the Christians and the Mamelukes. Some

ecclesiastics expressed their doubts and scruples upon an alliance with

the enemies of Christ; but the pious monarch disdained to notice their

representations; no treaty had ever offered so many advantages for the

Christian cause, if good faith had presided over its execution: but the

generous loyalty of Louis rendered him incapable of suspecting fraud or

perfidy in his allies, or even in his enemies.

The leaders of the Mussulmans were to repair to Gaza, and from thence

to Jaffa, to confirm the alliance they had just contracted, and to

arrange with the French king the plan for carrying on the war. When the

sultan of Damascus heard of the treaty thus entered into, he sent an

army of twenty thousand men to take a position between Gaza and Daroum,

so as to prevent the junction of the Egyptians and Franks. Whether the

Mamelukes were prevented by their internal divisions, or whether they

did not dare to face the troops of Damascus, they did _not_ appear

at Jaffa at the time agreed upon. They, however, fulfilled all the

other conditions of the treaty, and added to the convoy of captives

and funereal relics, the present of an elephant, which Louis sent to

Henry III. of England. As they often repeated their promise of coming

to Jaffa, Louis was constantly in expectation of them, and waited for

them an entire year. The French monarch being thus deceived in his

hopes, might, without injustice, have renounced a treaty that the

other contracting party did not execute; he might again have opened

a communication with the sultan of Damascus, who offered the same

advantages, with much more probability of his promises being fulfilled.

The emirs of Egypt had sought the alliance of the Christians when their

own situation appeared desperate, and when they had reason to believe

that the king of France would receive succours from the West; seeing,

however, that Louis had no army, and that all the forces he could

muster did not amount to more than seven hundred knights, they were

fearful of entering too deeply into engagements that would expose them

to the hatred of the Mussulmans, without offering them any substantial

support against their enemies. All these emirs besides, only fought

to secure for themselves impunity for their crime, and to be left in

quiet possession of the fruits of their revolt. They were at all times

ready to lay down their arms, if they procured pardon for the past, and

had Egypt abandoned to them. The caliph of Bagdad was always anxious

to establish peace among the Mussulman powers; he prevailed upon the

sultan of Damascus and Aleppo to forget his causes of resentment, and

upon the emirs of Egypt to express repentance, with a desire for peace.

Several battles were fought without any decisive results; in one of

these battles a party of Syrian troops were defeated by the Mamelukes,

and fled away towards Damascus; whilst other bodies of Mamelukes

were beaten by the Syrians, and pursued up to the gates of Cairo. A

war in which victory was always uncertain, necessarily weakened the

courage and exhausted the patience of both parties; and they appealed

to the spiritual father of the Mussulmans to arbitrate between them.

The sultans of Syria and Egypt at length concluded a peace, and

agreed to unite their arms against the Christians. From that time the

hopes of the Crusaders all vanished; the king of France, from having

procrastinated so long, and at the same time neglected a favourable

opportunity, had, all at once, two united enemies to dread. It is

necessary to be perfectly acquainted with the situation and policy of

the Mussulman powers, to ascertain how far history has reason to blame

the indecision and tardiness of Louis IX. Le père Maimbourg does not

scruple to blame him with much severity, and declares plainly, _that

to be a saint, it appears not necessary to be infallible, particularly

in political affairs, and even still less in those of war_.

The treaty concluded between the Mamelukes and Syrians was the signal

for war; the sultan of Damascus, at the head of an army, came under

the very walls of Ptolemaïs, and threatened to ravage the gardens and

fields which supplied the city with provisions, if the inhabitants did

not pay him a tribute of fifty thousand golden byzants. The Christians

were not in a condition to resist their enemies, if the latter had

then had any intention of attacking them in earnest; but the Syrians,

exhausted by fatigue, were in want of provisions, and returned to

Damascus, whilst the Mamelukes, at the same time, retook the route to

Cairo; both of them departing with an intention of returning on the

first favourable occasion to invade and desolate Palestine.

The threats of the Mussulmans redoubled the zeal and the efforts

of Louis to place the Christian cities in a state of defence; he

determined to restore the fortifications of Sidon, which had been

demolished by the Saracens of Damascus, at the time that the Crusaders

landed in Egypt. He sent a great number of workmen into this city,

and the works were rapidly advancing, when they were all at once

interrupted by the most deplorable occurrence. The place having a

weak garrison, was surprised, and every Christian it contained put to

the sword by the Turcomans, a wandering, ferocious race, accustomed

to live by murder and plunder. Louis was at Tyre when he learned

this disastrous news, and was about to go to Sidon. Some of the few

Syrian inhabitants that had escaped the carnage, described to him the

unheard-of cruelties of the barbarians; the fury of the Turcomans had

spared neither age nor sex, and in their retreat they had slaughtered

two thousand prisoners. Louis, deeply afflicted by what he heard,

formed at once the determination to go and attack the Turcomans in

Belinas, to which place they had retired. At the first signal all the

warriors that accompanied him eagerly assumed their armour. The king

wished to place himself at their head, but the barons strongly opposed

his intention, saying, “that he must not expose a life of so much

consequence to the Holy Land, in such an expedition.” The Christian

warriors set forward on their march. Belinas, or Cæsarea Philippi,

was built upon a declivity of Mount Libanus, near the sources of the

Jordan: the place was only to be approached by narrow roads and steep

ascents; but nothing could stop the Crusaders, impatient to avenge

their murdered brethren. Upon their arrival at Belinas, the enemy

fled in all directions; the city was taken, and this victory would

have been complete, if the Christian warriors had observed the laws

of discipline, and followed the orders of their leaders. Whilst the

French were taking possession of Belinas, the Teutonic knights went to

attack a Mussulman castle, built upon the neighbouring heights, whose

towers appeared mingled with the peaks of Libanus. The Saracens, who

had rallied at this place, and began to recover their courage, repulsed

the assailants, and pursued them across the rocks and precipices. The

precipitate retreat of the Teutonic knights threw the other Christian

warriors into confusion; these latter being huddled together upon

a mountainous piece of ground, where they could neither fight on

horseback nor form a line of battle. The sieur de Joinville, who led

the king’s guards, was more than once upon the point of losing his

life, or of falling into the hands of the Turcomans. At length the

French, by hard fighting, repaired the error of the Germans; Olivier

de Thermes, and the warriors he commanded, succeeded in repulsing the

Mussulmans. The Crusaders, after having pillaged Belinas, abandoned it,

and returned to Sidon.

Louis IX. arrived there before them: on his approach to the city,

what was his sorrow at seeing on his route the ground covered with

plundered and bloody carcases! These were the miserable remains of

the Christians that had been slain by the Turcomans.[334] They were

putrefying fast, and there had been no one to undertake the charge

of burying them. Louis stopped at beholding the melancholy spectacle,

and turning to the legate, requested him to consecrate a cemetery, and

then gave orders for the burial of the dead that covered the roads; but

instead of obeying him, every one turned away his eyes and recoiled

with disgust. Louis then sprang from his horse, and taking in his hands

one of the bodies from which exhaled an infectious odour, exclaimed,

“_Come, my friends, come, let us bestow a little earth upon the martyrs

of Jesus Christ_.” The example of the king reanimated the courage and

the charity of the persons of his suite; all were eager to imitate him,

and the Christians, whom the barbarians had slaughtered, thus received

the honours of sepulture. This act of pious devotedness of Louis IX.

to the memory of his companions in arms, has been celebrated by all

historians; it presents a strange contrast to the insensibility of a

hero of modern times, who, in a circumstance almost similar, and in

the same country, caused all the wounded who were left upon a field of

battle to be poisoned.

The king remained several months at Sidon, employed in fortifying the

city. In the mean time Queen Blanche was constantly writing to him and

entreating him to return to France, as she greatly feared she should

never see her son again.

Her presentiments were but too quickly realized. Louis was still at

Sidon, when a message arrived in Palestine, announcing that the queen

regent was no more. It was the legate of the pope who first received

this melancholy news. He went to seek the king, accompanied by the

archbishop of Tyre and Geoffrey de Beaulieu, Louis’s confessor. As the

prelate announced that he had something important to communicate, and

at the same time exhibited marks of great grief upon his countenance,

the monarch led him into his chapel, which, according to an old author,

“_was his arsenal against all the crosses of the world_.” The prelate

began by reminding the king that all that man loves upon the earth was

perishable; “be thankful to God,” added he, “for having given you a

mother who has watched over your family and your kingdom with such

anxious care, and so much ability.” The legate paused for a moment, and

then, breathing a profound sigh, continued, “This tender mother, this

virtuous princess, is now in heaven.” At these words, Louis uttered

a piercing cry, and then burst into a torrent of tears. As soon as

he had a little recovered himself, he fell on his knees before the

altar, and joining and raising his hands, exclaimed, “I thank you O

my God! for having given me so good a mother; it was a gift of your

mercy; you take her back to-day as your own; you know that I loved

her above all creatures; but since, before all things, your decrees

must be accomplished, O Lord! be your name blessed for ever, and for

ever!” Louis sent away the two prelates, and, remaining alone with his

confessor, he recited the service for the dead. Two days passed away

before he would see anybody. He then desired Joinville to be called,

and upon seeing him, said, “Ah! seneschal, I have lost my mother.”

“Sire,” replied Joinville, “I am not surprised at that; you knew that

she must die at some time; but I marvel at the great and extravagant

grief that you feel for it, you who have always been so wise a prince.”

When Joinville left the king, _Madame Marie de bonnes Vertus_ came to

beg that he would come to the queen and endeavour to console her. The

good seneschal found Marguerite bathed in tears, and could not refrain

from expressing his surprise by saying to her, “It is a difficult

matter to believe you are a woman by your weeping, for the grief you

show is for the loss of a woman that you hated more than any other in

the world.” Marguerite replied that it was not, in fact, for the death

of Blanche she was weeping, “but for the great uneasiness in which I

see the king, and also for our daughter, left under the guardianship of

men.”

Louis IX. was present every day at a funeral service celebrated in

memory of his mother. He sent into the West a great number of jewels

and precious stones to be distributed among the principal churches of

France; at the same time exhorting the clergy to put up prayers for

him and for the repose of the queen Blanche. In proportion with his

endeavours to procure prayers for his mother, his grief yielded to

the hope of seeing her again in heaven; and his mind, when calmed by

resignation, found its most effectual consolations in that mysterious

tie which still unites us with those we have lost, in that religious

sentiment which mixes itself with our affections to purify them, and

with our regrets to mitigate them.

The death of Queen Blanche seemed to impose an obligation upon Louis

IX. to return to his dominions; and the news he received from the West

convinced him that his presence was becoming more necessary every

day. A war for the succession of Flanders had broken out again; the

truce with England had just expired; the people were murmuring: on the

other hand, Louis had now nothing he could undertake in Palestine. He

therefore gave his serious attention to the subject of his return;

but as if, on this occasion, he mistrusted his own understanding, he

determined, before he formed a definitive resolution, to consult the

will of God. Processions were made, and prayers were put up in all the

Christian cities of Palestine, that Heaven might deign to enlighten

those who had been charged with the directing of a war undertaken in

its name. The clergy and barons of the kingdom of Jerusalem, persuaded

that the presence of Louis was no longer necessary, and that his

return to the West might rouse the enthusiasm of the French warriors

for a new crusade, advised him to embark for Europe; at the same time

expressing their fervent gratitude for all the services he had rendered

to the cause of Jesus Christ during five years. On preparing for his

departure, Louis left a hundred knights in the Holy Land, under the

command of Geoffrey de Sergines, who fought against the Saracens for

thirty years, and became, in his old age, viceroy of Jerusalem. Louis

quitted Sidon, and, with the queen and three children that he had had

in the East, repaired to Ptolemaïs, in the spring of 1254. A fleet of

fourteen vessels was ready to receive him and all that remained of the

warriors of the crusade. The day being arrived (April 24th), the king,

walking on foot, followed by the legate, the patriarch of Jerusalem,

and all the nobles and knights of Palestine, took the road to the

port, amidst an immense crowd collected on his passage. All classes,

as they saw him depart, recollected the virtues of which he had given

so bright an example, particularly his kindness to the inhabitants of

Palestine, whom he had treated as his own subjects. Some expressed

their gratitude by warm acclamations, others by a melancholy silence;

but all proclaimed him _the father of the Christians_, and implored

Heaven to shower its blessings upon the virtuous monarch, and upon the

kingdom of France. The countenance of Louis plainly indicated that he

fully partook of the regrets of the Christians of the Holy Land; he

addressed a few consoling words to them, gave them useful counsels,

reproached himself with not having done enough for their cause, and

expressed an earnest desire that God would some day judge him worthy of

finishing the work of their deliverance.

At length the fleet set sail. Louis had obtained permission from

the legate to take with him, in his vessel, the Holy Sacrament, for

the assistance of the dying and the sick; so, when beholding altars

raised on board a ship, priests clothed in their sacerdotal habits,

celebrating divine service, and invoking the protection of Heaven at

every hour in the day, it was easy to recognise the pious wreck of a

crusade, and the last trophies of the war of Jesus Christ.[335] As the

fleet approached the isle of Cyprus, the vessel in which the king was

struck violently against a sand-bank; all the crew were seized with

terror; the queen and her children uttered piercing cries; but Louis

prostrated himself at the foot of the altar, and addressed himself to

Him who commands the sea. When the vessel was examined, it was found

that it had received considerable damage, and the pilots pressed the

king to leave it; but seeing that they themselves did not purpose to

abandon the ship, he determined to remain in it. “There is no one

here,” said he, “who does not love his body as dearly as I do mine;

if I leave, they will leave also, and, perhaps, will not see their

country for a length of time; I prefer placing myself, my queen, and

my children in the hands of God, to doing such an injury to so great

a number of people as there are here.” These words, inspired by an

heroic charity, revived the courage of the sailors and the pilgrims,

and they resumed their course. When leaving the coasts of Sicily, the

fleet very carefully kept clear of the coast of Tunis, as if a secret

presentiment warned the French Crusaders of the misfortunes that

awaited them upon that shore in a still more disastrous expedition.

A tempest placed the fleet in great peril; it was upon this occasion

Queen Marguerite made a vow to offer a ship of silver to St. Nicholas

of Lorraine, and requested Joinville to become her security with the

patron saint of such as are shipwrecked. Whilst everybody else was in

despair, Louis found calmness in a philosophy derived from religion;

and when the danger was past, he said to his companions: “See if God

has not proved to us how vast is his power, when by means of a single

one of the four winds, the king of France, the queen, their children,

and so many other persons have escaped drowning.” The navigation lasted

more than two months, during which many marvellous adventures and

accidents were encountered by the pilgrims, which history has preserved

an account of, and which would not figure unworthily in a Christian

Odyssey.

The fleet at length cast anchor at the isles of Hières. Louis crossed

Provence, and passing by Auvergne, arrived at Vincennes on the 5th of

September, 1254. The people flocked from all parts to greet him on

his passage; the more they appeared to forget his reverses, the more

strongly was Louis affected by the remembrance of his lost companions;

and the melancholy that clouded his countenance formed a painful

contrast with the public joy. His first care was to go to St. Denis,

to prostrate himself at the feet of the apostle of France; on the

following day he made his public entrance into his capital, preceded

by the clergy, the nobility, and the people. He continued to wear the

cross upon his shoulder, the sight of which, whilst recalling the cause

of his long absence, gave his subjects reason to fear that he had not

yet abandoned his enterprise of the crusade. The greater number of

the barons and knights that had gone with Louis, had found a grave

in either Syria or Egypt. Such as had survived so many disasters,

reëntered their castles, which they found deserted and falling to

ruins. The good seneschal, after having revisited his home, repaired,

barefooted, to the church of St. Nicholas of Lorraine, to discharge

the vow of Queen Marguerite. He then set earnestly about repairing the

evils his absence had caused, and swore never again to quit the castle

of Joinville to seek adventures in Asia.

Thus terminated this holy war, the commencement of which had filled

the Christian nations with so much delight, and which had, in the end,

plunged the whole West into mourning. Throughout the events I have

just described, the seneschal de Joinville has been my guide, and I

cannot terminate my recital without paying him the just tribute of my

gratitude. The unpretending tone of his narration, the simplicity of

his style, the gaiety of his character, have afforded me a happy relief

amidst a labour always dry and sometimes revolting. I take delight

in beholding him intrepid in the field of battle, preserving his

cheerfulness amidst the misfortunes of war, resigned in his captivity,

and in all his actions recalling to our minds the true spirit of

chivalry. Like his compatriot Villehardouin, he often makes his heroes

weep, and as often weeps himself. He braves danger, when danger is

present; but he thanks God with all his heart when he has no longer

anything to fear.

When I read his memoirs, I am transported back to the thirteenth

century, and I think I am listening to a knight who is returned from

the crusade, and who tells to me all he has seen and all he has done.

He has neither method nor rule; he drops the line of his discourse,

and takes it up again; and he extends or abridges his narration, as

his imagination is more or less struck by that which he relates. When

we read the narratives of Joinville, we are not surprised that Louis

should have taken so much delight in his conversation; there is not one

of his readers who does not feel the same confidence and friendship for

him that the virtuous monarch accorded him, and history adopts without

hesitation all that he affirms _upon his honour_, persuaded that he

who was bold enough to speak the truth in the courts of kings will not

deceive posterity.

The crusade of St. Louis was like that which immediately preceded it.

The enthusiasm for these distant expeditions was daily losing its

vivacity and its energy: the crusade no longer appeared anything to the

knights beyond a common war, in which the spirit of chivalry was a

more powerful principle than religion. It was only a religious affair

to Louis IX.

The manner in which this crusade was preached in Europe, the troubles

amidst which the voices of the preachers were raised, and particularly

the means that were employed to levy the tributes in the West, were

calculated to turn away all minds from the object that would be

supposed to be the governing one in a holy expedition.

And yet Louis took precautions that had been neglected in preceding

wars. Three years were employed in preparing this great enterprise;

the knights who arrived in the isle of Cyprus could not express their

astonishment at seeing the casks of wine piled one upon another, so

high that _they appeared like houses_; and heaps of wheat, barley,

and other grains, so immense, _that they might be believed to be

mountains_. There is no doubt that the princes and nobles who

accompanied Louis imitated his example: happy had it been for the

Crusaders, if their leaders had shown in war the same prudence and

sagacity they displayed in preparing for their expedition!

The French warriors upon all occasions evinced their accustomed

bravery; but throughout the crusade there was never exhibited one

instance of the genius of a great captain; Louis himself, when in

danger, afforded no example to his troops beyond courage and firmness.

We have related the prodigies of French valour, and we have described

the prodigies of pious resignation in reverses; the Crusaders and their

leaders merited, even in their disasters and in the depth of their

misery, the esteem and admiration of their enemies; and it is here that

history presents the most beautiful spectacle she can offer to man:

“_Glory, the faithful companion of misfortune_.”

We have had occasion, in the course of our narrative, to remark that

French gaiety never abandoned the cross-knights in their distant

expeditions. This gaiety often mixed itself with the saddest images,

and sometimes even did not respect severe propriety. We beg to be

permitted to repeat on this head a singular anecdote related by

Joinville. On the eve of the battle of Mansourah, one of the knights

of the seneschal of Champagne, named Landricourt, died; and whilst

the funeral honours were being paid to him, six of his companions in

arms talked so loud that they interrupted the priest who was chanting

mass. Joinville reproved them warmly, and they then laughed aloud,

saying they were talking about remarrying the wife of Messire Hugh de

Landricourt, _who was on the bier there_. The good Joinville was very

much scandalized at such discourse, and ordered them to keep silent.

When speaking of this indiscreet gaiety of his knights, the seneschal

takes care to add that God punished them on the day of battle; for of

all the six, he says, there was not one that was not killed and buried,

and whose wife did not afterwards find it convenient to marry again.

The manners of the European knights formed a very striking contrast

with those of the Mussulmans, who were always grave and serious, even

amidst the festivities in which they celebrated the deliverance of

their country and the defeat of the Christians.

We have spoken many times of the want of discipline of the Crusaders;

the Saracens were very little better in this respect; but in addition

to having the advantage of fighting in their own country, with every

foot of which they were acquainted, fortune gave them, in their

greatest dangers, skilful and experienced leaders, who knew how to take

advantage of all the errors of the Christians, and bring back to their

banners that victory that appeared to have been driven away by the

valour of their enemies.

History describes the whole Egyptian nation as struck with terror at

the first appearance of the Crusaders; but the Mussulmans, reassured

by their leaders, soon felt as much security and confidence as they

had experienced alarm; and as if there was nothing that men forgot so

easily as danger, a year after the taking of Damietta, they could not

conceive what species of madness had led a king of France to the banks

of the Nile. The continuator of Tabary relates a circumstance on this

subject, which paints at once the opinion and the character of the

Mussulmans. The emir Hossam-Eddin, in the course of a conference with

the captive monarch, said to him: “How did it come into the mind of

the king, whom I perceive endowed with wisdom and good qualities,—how

did it ever enter his thoughts to trust himself to a fragile wooden

bark, to brave the rocks of the sea, to venture into a country filled

with warriors impatient to fight for the Mussulman faith; how could he

possibly believe that he should take possession of Egypt, or that he

should land upon these coasts, without exposing both himself and his

people to the greatest dangers?” The king of France smiled, but made

no reply; and the emir thus continued: “Some of the doctors of our law

have decided that he who embarks upon the sea twice consecutively, by

thus exposing his life and his fortune, renders himself unfit to have

his evidence taken in a court of justice, because such gross imprudence

sufficiently proves the weakness of his reason and the unsoundness of

his judgment.” Louis IX. again smiled, and answered the emir: “He who

said so was not deceived; that is a wise decision.”[336]

We have transcribed the account of the Arabian historian, without

according him more credit than he merits. Christian authors have not

been less severe towards St. Louis, and can find no excuse for his

expedition beyond the seas. Without seeking to justify this crusade, we

will content ourselves with saying here, that the aim of Louis IX. was

not only to defend the Christian states of Syria and to fight with the

enemies of the faith, but to found a colony which might unite the East

and the West by the happy interchange of productions and knowledge. We

have produced, in the thirteenth book of this history, a letter from

the sultan of Cairo, by which it may be plainly perceived, that the

king of France had other views than those of a mere conqueror. The

historian Mezerai formally says that the project of the king of France

was to establish a colony in Egypt, a project of which the execution

has been attempted in modern times. “For this purpose,” says Mezerai,

“he took with him a great number of labourers and artisans, capable,

nevertheless, of bearing arms and fighting in case of need.” To support

our opinion, we might add to the authority of Mezerai that of Leibnitz,

who, in a memoir addressed to Louis XIV., does not hesitate to affirm

that the motives which determined Louis IX. to undertake the conquest

of Egypt, were inspired by profound wisdom, and merited the attention

of the most skilful statesmen, and of the most enlightened political

writers.

We must however believe that Louis IX. did not contemplate in their

full extent the advantages that might be derived from his expedition,

or that have been discovered in our age. All the policy of those

distant ages consisted in religious ideas, which insinuated themselves

into human affairs, and often directed them towards an end that human

intelligence was incapable of perceiving. What we do now for the

interests of commerce or civilization, was then done for the interests

of Christianity; and the results were often the same. Religion, in

those times of barbarism and ignorance, was like a mysterious reason,

like a sublime instinct, given to man to assist him in his search

for all that was doomed to become good and useful to him. We must

not forget that the Christian religion always directed the conduct

of Louis IX., and that it was to the religious inspirations of this

monarch, that France owed those treaties, at which frankness and good

faith presided; those institutions that consecrated the principles of

justice; and all those monuments of a wise policy, to which modern

philosophers have not been able to refuse their admiration.

The expedition of Louis IX. produced two results for Egypt that were

not at all expected. Two years after the deliverance of the king,

and whilst he was still in Palestine, the Mamelukes, fearing a fresh

invasion of the Franks, in order to prevent their enemies from taking

Damietta and fortifying themselves in that city, entirely destroyed

it. Some years after, as their fears were not yet removed, and the

second crusade of Louis IX. spread fresh alarms throughout the East,

the Egyptians caused immense heaps of stones to be cast into the mouth

of the Nile, in order that the Christian fleets might not be able to

sail up the river. Since that period a new Damietta has been built at

a small distance from the site of the former city; but the entrance

to the Nile is still, in our days, closed against all vessels, a sad

and deplorable testimony of the terror which the arms of the Franks

formerly inspired.

History has a deeper lament to make over the second consequence of

this crusade. It is certain that it contributed greatly to change the

form of the Egyptian government, and to fill that unhappy country

with all the scourges that military despotism brings in its train. It

was a spectacle worthy of our attention and our pity, to see, after a

bloody revolution, a rich and vast country abandoned all at once to

slaves purchased in the most barbarous regions of Asia. Despotism,

which always suspects everything that approaches it, dreaded the

natural defenders of Egypt, and was willing to confide its safety to

men without country and without family; to those men who, according to

the expression of Tacitus, when speaking of the guards of Artabanus,

have not the least idea of virtue, are incapable of remorse, are

instruments always ready for crime, and only know the hand that pays

them. Most of the dynasties of Syria had already perished victims

of their imprudent confidence in foreign soldiers. That of Saladin

shared the same fate, and was, like all the others, overthrown by the

barbarians whom it had intrusted with its defence. The dynasty of the

Baharite Mamelukes, which succeeded that of Ayoub, was not destined to

have a long duration; and a body of slaves, purchased in Circassia,

in their turn got possession of the power that had armed them. Two

centuries after, the Ottoman empire overcame the second dynasty of the

Mamelukes; but their military government, amidst the crimes of tyranny

and excesses of disorder, for a long time braved the power of the

conqueror, and subsisted to the end of the eighteenth century, when the

presence of a French army completed its annihilation. Thus, two French

expeditions into Egypt were marked, one by the revolt and elevation of

the Mamelukes, the other by their destruction.

Philosophy and humanity, however, derived some advantages from the

expedition of St. Louis, which history does not dispute. The French

monarch heard in Syria that a powerful emir was collecting a great

number of books, and forming a library which was to be open to all the

learned, and to all desirous of gaining knowledge. He became anxious

to imitate this noble example, and gave orders for having all the

manuscripts preserved in the monasteries transcribed. This literary

treasure, confided to the care of Vincent de Beauvais, was placed in an

apartment near the holy chapel, and became the first model of those

bibliographical establishments, of those precious depositories of

letters and sciences, of which the capital of France is now so justly

proud.

It has often been said, that the hospital of the Quinze-Vingts was

established by Louis IX. as an asylum for three hundred gentlemen who

had returned blind from the holy war. The ordinance by which Louis

founded this hospital says nothing to confirm the opinion at first

spread by several writers, and which has since become sanctioned as

a popular tradition.[337] Joinville speaks of the institution of the

Quinze-Vingts; but he says nothing of the motives that induced the

pious monarch to found this establishment. Besides, we should add

that the origin of the Quinze-Vingts is posterior by several years to

his return from the crusade. Mezerai relates in his history, that an

hospital for the blind was established at Rouen in the middle of the

twelfth century; and this ancient monument of charity might give Louis

the idea of founding a similar institution in his capital.

Before this crusade, Tartary was only known by the formidable

emigrations of the Moguls. This vast region was in some sort revealed

to the West by the missionaries sent thither by the king of France.

William de Longjumeau, who set out from the isle of Cyprus, collected a

great number of fabulous traditions in the course of his voyage; but he

likewise brought back some curious notices and some exact observations.

Rubruquis, who started during the king’s abode in Palestine, and

returned after the departure of the Crusaders, did not succeed in his

embassy to the powerful emperor of the Moguls; but, as a traveller,

he observed with sagacity the country, the manners, and the laws of

the Tartars; and his relation is still a valuable monument, that more

recent voyages have not thrown into oblivion.

The chroniclers of the time, even Joinville himself, who never turned

their attention to anything but the events of the war, and gave

no heed to the progress of civilization, have said nothing of the

knowledge Louis might have acquired concerning the legislation of the

East. What interest would not the old chronicles possess in our eyes,

if they had reported the conversations of the royal legislator with

the Oriental Christians versed in the study of the laws and customs

that prevailed in the colonies of the Franks! It was during the

sojourn of the king in Syria, that the chancellor of the kingdom of

Cyprus collected all the laws that formed _the Assizes of Jerusalem_.

Should we not be warranted, then, in saying that we owe this precious

collection to the counsels, and still more to the encouragement, of

Louis IX.? It is certain that the pious monarch neglected nothing that

would enable him to acquire a knowledge of the usages and customs of

the countries he visited; and that the Assizes of Jerusalem served as a

model for the monument of legislation which afterwards constituted the

greatest glory of his reign.

One advantage of this crusade, and that, doubtless, the greatest of

all, was, that Louis returned much better than he was when he went,

and that adversity developed and perfected in him all the qualities to

which his subjects looked for their future prosperity. A Protestant

historian, when speaking of this subject, makes use of these remarkable

words: “The fruit of his voyage and of his affliction was, that

he returned a much better man, having increased in zeal, modesty,

prudence, and diligence; and that he was more honoured and beloved

by his people than he had ever been before his departure; and by the

universal earth was held in singular admiration for his good life and

constancy amidst dangers, as a miracle among kings.”[338]

Far from seeking to forget his misfortunes, Louis was constantly

referring to them, as a great example that God had been willing to

present to the world. He attributed them principally to his own faults;

and the austerities to which he condemned himself during the remainder

of his life, were, says Father Daniel, a kind of mourning, which he

always wore for the brave men who had perished in the crusade. On his

return, he reformed the coinage, and by his order, silver Parisis and

Gros Tournois were struck, upon which chains were figured, in order

to preserve the memory of his captivity. These remembrances rendered

him more dear to his people, and greater in the eyes of all Christians.

Happy are princes upon whom the lessons of misfortune are not lost!

happy also is the age in which men are not judged according to the

favours of fortune, and in which the adversity of the great ones of the

earth has in it something respectable and sacred!

The misfortunes of the time, as we have already said, had ruined a

great number of the most illustrious families of the kingdom. We know

that many nobles had sold their lands to provide means for undertaking

the crusade; and history has preserved acts passed in the camp, even

of Mansourah, by which several gentlemen sold their domains to the

crown. Louis was not at all willing that his companions in arms should

be condemned to poverty for having followed him into the East, and

for having shared with him the labours and perils of the holy war;

he therefore ordered a list to be made of the indigent nobility, and

found means to assist them out of his own revenue; he relieved, with

affecting kindness, the widows and orphans of the brave knights he had

seen fall by his side; and his solicitude extended even to the poor

labourers who had suffered, either in the war of the Pastors, by his

absence, or by the inefficiency of the laws. “Serfs,” said he, “belong

to Jesus Christ as well as to us, and in a Christian kingdom we ought

never to forget that they are our brethren.” Since his war with the

Mussulmans, he could not endure the idea of the blood of Christians

being shed in battle. His ordinances forbade war between individuals

in all the domains of the crown; and the authority of his example

contributed to maintain order and peace throughout the provinces.

Before his departure, Louis had sent commissaries to repair the

iniquities committed in the government of his kingdom. On his return,

he was determined to see everything himself, and pervaded his

provinces; being convinced that God will not pardon kings who have

neglected any opportunity or means of becoming acquainted with the

truth. What a touching spectacle it must have been to see a king as

anxious to discover all the ills that had been effected in his name,

as other men are to trace out any injustice done to themselves! In

short, his paternal vigilance succeeded in destroying all abuses,

and repairing all faults; “and finally,” says the noble confidant of

his thoughts, “in lapse of time, the kingdom of France multiplied

so greatly by the justice and rectitude that reigned in it that the

domains, feudal fines, rents, and revenues, increased in one year by a

half, and vastly improved the kingdom of France.”

We cannot finish the account of this crusade without speaking of the

emperor Frederick II. and Innocent IV., who had so much influence

over the events we have described. It may be said of Frederick, that

his glory underwent as many vicissitudes as his fortune. Contemporary

chronicles sometimes praise him with exaggeration, and at others blame

him without measure. Such is ever the fate of princes who have lived

amidst the conflict of parties. The spirit of party, which has judged

them in their lifetime, leaves to history nothing but uncertainties,

and appears still to exist for them in posterity. No historian has

denied the talent or the genius of Frederick; he was one of the most

illustrious captains of his times; he is placed among the princes

who, by their example and their munificence, encouraged the revival

of letters in the middle ages. He displayed great qualities upon the

throne, but he did not know how to put himself in harmony with the

spirit of his contemporaries;[339] he had neither the defects nor the

virtues of his age, and that is the reason that he succumbed in the

obstinate struggle with the popes. If this struggle had not troubled

and divided Europe, and if Frederick had been animated by the same

sentiments as St. Louis, there is no doubt that Christianity would have

triumphed over Islamism, and that the Crusaders would have subdued a

great portion of the East.

The memory of Innocent IV. has been judged as variously as that of his

redoubtable adversary. When looking at his manifestoes, his warlike

enterprises, his spiritual and temporal triumphs, we might believe

that the most able and ambitious of conquerors was seated in the chair

of St. Peter. The events to which he has attached his name, and which

he directed by his policy, leave us nothing to say regarding his genius

or his character. After the death of Frederick, this pontiff returned

to Italy, which country he traversed in triumph; but by a singular

contrast, he who had shaken the power of emperors, only entered Rome

tremblingly. The Romans had sent envoys to him to express their

surprise at seeing him lead a wandering life far from his capital,

and from the flock of which he would have to render an account to the

sovereign judge.

Although obedient in this respect to the will of the people of Rome,

Innocent pursued his projects against the remains of the imperial

family, and death surprised him in the kingdom of Naples, of which he

was taking possession in the name of the Church; having lost all care

for the fate of the Christian colonies of the East. The pontiff who

succeeded him, although he had neither his ambition, nor his authority,

nor his genius, followed not the less the career that had been marked

out for him. He endeavoured to accomplish all the threats of the Holy

See, and the thunders of Rome reposed no more in the hands of Alexander

VI. than they had done in those of his predecessors.

That which might justify the persevering, obstinate ardour with which

the popes pursued the posterity of Frederick, is that by it they

liberated Italy from the yoke of the emperors of Germany; and that this

rich country remained sixty years without seeing the armies of the

Germanic empire. But, on the other side, this advantage was purchased

by so much violence, and by so many calamities, that the nations were

never able to enjoy or know the value of it. The popes, who were not

always sufficiently strong to maintain the work of their policy,

were sometimes obliged to call in foreign princes to their aid, who

introduced fresh subjects of discord into Italy. War constantly brought

on war; conquerors were expelled by other conquerors. This revolution

lasted during several centuries, and became fatal, not only to Italy,

but to Germany, France, and Spain, to all who wished to partake of the

spoils of the house of Swabia.

It is not our task to describe these afflicting scenes: to return to

that which more particularly belongs to our subject, we will glance,

whilst terminating these general considerations, at the crusade which

was then being preached in all the Italian cities against Eccelino

de Romano, whom the voice of the people, as well as the voice of the

Church, had declared to be the enemy of God and men.

This Italian noble had taken advantage of the disorder of the civil

wars, to usurp a tyrannical domination over several cities of Lombardy

and Trevisano. All that we are told of the tyrants of fabulous

antiquity falls short of the cruelties of Eccelino. Contemporary

history compares his barbarous reign to pestilence, inundations,

conflagrations, and the most terrible convulsions of nature. The pope

at first excommunicated Eccelino, _in whom he could see nothing but a

wild beast in a human form_; a short time afterwards he published a

crusade against this scourge of God and humanity. John of Vicenza, who

had preached public peace twenty years before, was the first preacher

of this holy war. The faithful who took up arms against Eccelino,

were to receive the same indulgences as those who went to Palestine.

This crusade, which was undertaken in the cause of humanity and

liberty, was preached in all the republics of Italy: the eloquence of

the holy orators easily prevailed over the multitude; but that which

most inflamed the zeal and ardour of the people, was the sight of the

wretches whom Eccelino had caused to be mutilated amidst tortures, and

the groans and lamentations of the families from which the tyrant had

chosen his victims. In most of the provinces of Italy, the inhabitants

of the cities and country took up arms to defend the cause of religion

and their native land; eager to obtain the civic crown, if they

triumphed over tyranny, and the crown of martyrdom, if they chanced to

fall.

The standard of the cross was displayed at the head of the army; the

crowd of Crusaders marched against Eccelino, singing this hymn of the

Church,—

“Vexilla regis prodeunt,

Fulget crucis mysterium.”

The army of the faithful at first obtained rapid successes; but as

the archbishop of Ravenna, who commanded it, wanted skill, and as the

Crusaders of each town had no leaders but monks and ecclesiastics, they

did not profit by their early advantages. The intrigues of policy and

the spirit of rivalry relaxed the ardour of the combatants; victory

was sometimes balanced by reverses: four years of labours and perils

scarcely sufficed for the suppression of an impious domination, or to

avenge humanity by the defeat and death of Eccelino.

I regret that the plan of this work does not permit me to speak in

greater detail of this war, in which religion so happily assisted

the cause of liberty, and which forms so great a contrast with

most contemporary events. At this period such a number of crusades

were preached, that history can scarcely follow them, and we feel

astonished that the population of the West was not exhausted by so

many unfortunate wars. Whilst Louis IX. was returning from the East,

where he had left his army, and a holy league was being formed in

Italy against the tyrant Eccelino, sixty thousand Crusaders, commanded

by a king of Bohemia, marched against the people of Lithuania, still

addicted to the worship of idols; and another army of Crusaders was

leaving the banks of the Oder and the Vistula to combat the pagans

of Prussia, so many times attacked and conquered by the Teutonic

knights. History is gratified at being able to remark that in this last

expedition the cities of Brunsbad and Konigsberg were founded; but the

founding of two flourishing cities cannot obliterate the remembrance of

the desolation of many provinces. If any advantages could arise from

these sanguinary expeditions, they were certainly the progressive steps

of Christianity, which brought together people till that time separated

by difference in manners and religious belief; they were the lessons of

misfortune and the fruits of experience, which in the end enlightened

Europe, and gave to the human mind a new direction more conformable

with the laws of justice and reason, more favourable to the interests

of humanity. It is thus that Providence, always mixing good with evil,

renews human societies, and sows the prolific seeds of civilization in

the very heart of disorder and barbarism.

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The History of the Jews, 2 Vols.

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History of Latin Christianity, 4 Vols.

DR. MILMAN has won lasting popularity as a historian by his three great

works, HISTORY OF THE JEWS, HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY, and HISTORY OF

LATIN CHRISTIANITY. These works link on to each other, and bring the

narrative down from the beginning of all history to the middle period

of the modern era. They are the work of the scholar, a conscientious

student, and a Christian philosopher. DR. MILMAN prepared this new

edition so as to give it the benefit of the results of more recent

research. In the notes, and in detached appendices to the chapters, a

variety of very important questions are critically discussed.

The author is noted for his calm and rigid impartiality, his fearless

exposure of the bad and appreciation of the good, both in institutions

and men, and his aim throughout, to utter the truth always in charity.

The best authorities on all events narrated have been studiously sifted

and their results given in a style remarkable for its clearness, force

and animation.

MILMAN’S WORKS HAVE TAKEN THEIR PLACE AMONG THE APPROVED CLASSICS OF

THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. The general accuracy of his statements, the

candor of his criticisms and the breadth of his charity are everywhere

apparent in his writings. His search at all times seems to have been

for truth, and that which he finds he states with simple clearness and

with fearless honesty. HIS WORKS ARE IN THEIR DEPARTMENT OF HISTORY AS

VALUABLE AS THE VOLUMES OF GIBBON ARE IN SECULAR HISTORY. THEY DESERVE

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FOOTNOTES:

[1] The author wrote the history of the fourth, fifth, and sixth

crusades during the last usurpation of Buonaparte. [How easily an

observant reader may tell when a book was published—the above note

was, doubtless, written after Buonaparte’s failure.—TRANS.]

[2] Almélik-Alazoz, Emad-eddin Otsman. We have given the names of the

Mussulman princes as the greater part of our historians write them;

we shall take care to point out in notes how they are pronounced by

Arabian authors.

[3] Alemélek Almansour, Nassir-eddin Mohammed.

[4] Almélek Aladel Seïf-eddin Aben-beer Mohammed.

[5] Aboulfeda and some other Arabian historians point out sufficiently

succinctly the division that the Ayoubite princes made of the vast

provinces that formed the empire of Saladin. This empire included

Syria, Egypt, almost all Mesopotamia, and even a great portion of

Arabia.

Aziz, as we have said, established himself in Egypt; Afdhal and Thaher

shared Syria between them, one reigning at Damascus, and the other at

Aleppo. Adel retained, as his part, the cities situated beyond the

Euphrates, which composed the _eastern provinces_, that is, Mesopotamia

proper. To these three great divisions were attached several feudatory

princes, who governed as fiefs various cities of the empire. Hamah,

Salamiak, Moanah, and Mambedj belonged to Mansour; it was from this

branch that issued the celebrated Aboulfeda: the family of Chirkoùh was

established at Emessa; Thaher, son of Saladin, enjoyed Bosra; Amdjed,

great-grandson of Ayoub, was prince of Balbek; Chëizer, Abou Cobaïs,

Sahyoun, Tell-Bacher, Kaubeb, Adjloun, Barin, Kafar-Tab, and Famieh

were possessed by various emirs who had served in the armies of Saladin.

As to Yémen, a province of Arabia, in which Touran-chah established

himself, the family of the Ayoubites reigned there till 1239.

[6] Almélek Alafdhal, Noureddin Ali.

[7] At the death of Saladin Jerusalem came into the possession of

Afdhal, his son, who gave it in fief to the emir Azz-eddin Djerdik.

Aziz becoming master of Damascus, the holy city fell into the hands

of another emir, Ilm-eddin Caísser; to him succeeded Aboulhedj, the

favourite of Adel; for in the division that this prince and his

nephew Aziz made of Egypt and Syria, Palestine remained in the power

of Adel. Aboul-Hédj was in his turn replaced by the famous emir

Aksankar-el-Kébir, and he by Meïmoun, 1197. When the empire became

reunited under the dominion of Adel, his son Moaddhem had Damascus, of

which Palestine and Jerusalem were dependencies.

[8] This is the text of the oath, as it has been preserved by an

historian:—“I, such a one, devote myself entirely from this moment

to the service of the sultan Elmélek Alnaser Salak-eddin, as long as

he shall live. I swear to consecrate my life, my property, my sword,

and my powers to the defence of his empire, and to be always obedient

to his orders. I swear to observe the same engagements after him to

his son and heir Almélek Alafdhal. I swear to submit myself to him,

to fight for his empire and states with my life, my wealth, my sword,

and my troops. I swear to obey him in everything; I devote myself

to him inwardly and outwardly, and I take God for a witness of this

engagement.”

[9] This vizier was named Nasr-allah, and bore the surname of

Dhiaeddin, ‘the splendour of religion;’ he was brother of the

celebrated historian Ibn-Elatzir, author of the _Tarikh Kamel_, and

himself cultivated letters with success. The study of most of the

sciences occupied his youth, and his memory was adorned with the most

beautiful passages of the ancient and modern poetry of his nation.

Saladin had given him as vizier to his son, and Nasr-allah proved by

his conduct that he was worthy of the honour. If he committed faults as

a minister, he at least honoured his character by remaining faithful

to his master, sharing his misfortunes, and following him into exile.

After remaining some time at Samosata, whither Afdhal was banished, he

came to Aleppo, and entered into the service of Thaher, who reigned

there; and becoming dissatisfied with his conduct, he quitted the

court, and retired to Mossoul, where he took up his residence. He died

at Bagdad in 1239, whilst fulfilling a diplomatic mission with which

the prince of Mossoul had charged him. Nasr-allah left several literary

works, the nomenclature of which is contained in the biography of

Ibn-Khilcan.

[10] M. Am. Jourdain has published a curious account of Aboulfeda

and his family, the materials for which were supplied by the works

themselves of this historian: it is printed in the fourteenth volume of

_Les Annales des Voyages_, &c. of M. Malte Brun.

[11] The Hospitallers then possessed within the limits of Christendom

_nineteen thousand manors_; the Templars had only _nine thousand_.

Matthew Paris expresses himself thus:—Habent insuper Templarii

in Christianitate novem millia maneriorum; Hospitalii vero novem

decem, præter emolumenta et varios proventus ex fraternitatibus

et prædicationibus provenientes, et per privilegia sua

accrescentes.—_Matth. Paris.,_ ad annum 1244, in Henry III., lib. xi.

p. 615. A manor in the middle ages _was the labour of one plough_.

[12] We possess two letters written by Celestine to Hubert, archbishop

of Canterbury, to engage him to preach the crusade. The pope commands

the archbishop to employ ecclesiastical censures against those who,

after taking the cross, delayed their departure for the Holy Land; and

to require such as could not possibly set out, to send, at their own

expense, one or two men to fight against the infidels.

[13] This reminds us of the plans of conquest laid down by Pyrrhus,

king of Epirus,—and of the traveller, who intended to perambulate the

globe,—that he might, at the end of his wanderings, _plant cabbages in

Hanover_.—TRANS.

[14] All the facts relative to the preaching of this crusade are to be

found in Roger de Hoveden, Matthew Paris, Godfrey Moine, William of

Newbridge, Otho of St. Blaise, and Arnold of Lubeck. The latter gives

the most details; he does not fail to tell us that forty burgesses of

Lubeck took the cross on this occasion.

[15] The long lists of the names and titles of the Crusaders may at

first appear tiresome to the reader; but as each name represents a

territory or an estate, the lists are, in fact, the best means of

becoming thoroughly acquainted with the extent of this astonishing

mania.—TRANS.

[16] Roger de Hoveden gives this account of the death of Henry of

Champagne. Arnold of Lubeck says that this prince had placed himself at

a window to take the air. The same Arnold adds that many thought that

God had punished Henry for the regret he had evinced on the arrival

of the Germans, whom he envied the glory of delivering the kingdom of

Christ.

[17] We possess a very precious monument upon the battle of Sidon;

it is a letter from the duke of Saxony, written to the archbishop of

Cologne. The duke was present at the battle.

[18] Arnold, who gives an account of this message of the dove, appears

to fear that it will not be believed. This is the manner in which he

expresses himself in the third chapter:—Hic quiddam dicturus sum non

ridiculum, sed ridiculè à gentibus tractum, qui quoniam sapientiores

filiis iucis in generatione suâ sunt, multa excogitant, quæ nostrates

non noverunt, nisi fortè ab eis didicerint. Solent enim ex untes ad

quælibet negotia secum exportare columbas, quæ domi aut ova aut pullos

noviter habent creates, et si in viâ fortè accelerare volunt nuncium,

scriptas literas sub umbilico columbæ subtiliter ponunt, et eam

avolare permittunt. Quæ cum ad suos fœtus properat, celeriter amicis

desideratum nuncium apportat.

[19] The picture of Falcandus is perfectly prophetic, and describes

events exactly like those which came after him. We will quote the most

curious passages:—Intueri mihi jam videor turbulentas barbarorum

acies, eo qua feruntur impetu irruentes, civitates opulentas et loca

diuturnâ pace florentia metu concutere, cæde vastare, rapinis atterere,

et fœdare luxuriâ. Ingerit se mihi, et lachrymas a nolente futuræ

species calamitatis extorquet. Occurrunt hinc cives aut resistendo

gladiis intercepti, aut se dedendo miserâ servitute depressi. Illine

virgines in ipsis parentum conspectibus constupratæ; matronæ post varia

et preciosa capitis, colli, et pectoris ornamenta direpta, ludibrio

habitæ defixis in terrâ oculis inconsolabiliter deplorantes, venerabile

fœdus conjugii fœdissimæ gentis libidine violari. Nec enim aut rationis

ordine regi, aut miseratione deflecti, aut religione terreri Theutonica

novit insania, quam et innatus furor exagitat, et rapacitas stimulat,

et libido præcipitat. Hæc autem in Apuliâ vicinisque provinciis geri,

licet horrendum ac triste sit facinus, et multo cum mœrore deflendum,

utcunque tamen tolerabile putaretur, si in cispharinis tantum partibus

barbarorum immanitas desæviret. Servire barbaris jam cogetur antiqua

illa Corinthiorum nobilitas qui patriis olim relictis sedibus, in

Siciliam transuentes, et urbi construendæ locum idoneum perquirentes,

tandem in optimâ et pulcherrimâ parte Siciliæ inter inæquales portus

mœnia sua loco tutissimo construxerunt. Quid tibi nunc prodest

philosophorum quondam floruisse doctrinis, et poëtarum ora vatifici

fontis nectare proluisse? satiùs tibi quidem esset ac tutiùs, Siculorum

adhuc tyrannorum sævitiam pati, quam barbaræ fœdæque gentis tyrannidem

experiri. Væ tibi fons celebris et præclari nominis Arethusa, quæ ad

hanc devoluta est miseriam, ut quæ poëtarum solebas carmina modulari,

nunc Theutonicorum ebrietatem mitiges, et eoram servias fœditati.—See

_Historia Sicula_, ap. Muratori, vol. vii.

[20] Roger de Hoveden says that the Mussulman prince of Jerusalem had

offered to deliver the city up to the Franks, and even to become a

Christian. If the Mussulman prince had really made such a proposition,

we cannot easily guess why the Christians should not have accepted it.

But Roger is the only historian that mentions this perfectly incredible

circumstance: Oriental historians are silent.

[21] Otho of St. Blaise says, that after the first crusade the

Saracens had fortified Jerusalem:—Pagani summâ industriâ civitates

et castella quæ obtinuerunt, muniverunt, et præcipuè Hyerusalem,

duplici muro antemurali opposito, et fossatis profundissimus cingentes,

inexpugnabilem reddiderunt, dato Christianis securissimo conductu

visendi sepulcrum Dominicum, quæstûs gratiâ.—See _Oth. de St. Blaise_

ap. Urtii collect.

[22] Arnold of Lubec enters most fully into the details of this siege:

this historian is almost our only guide in this part of our narrative.

We have found some useful documents in the continuator of Tabary.

[23] After describing the corruption of the Crusaders, Arnold

adds:—Veniam non peto, non enim ut quempiam confundam, hæc scribo, sed

dilectos in Christo moneo.

[24] Oriental historians say little of the siege of Thoron; the

continuator of Tabary expresses himself thus:—“The Franks attacked

Tebnyn (Thoron), and made breaches on various sides. When Malek-Adel

learnt this, he wrote to Melic-Alaziz, sultan of Egypt, to desire him

to come in person; ‘for if you do not come,’ said he, ‘we shall not

be able to protect the frontier country.’ Alaziz then came with his

troops. As to the Mussulmans who were in the castle, when they saw

the breaches made in their walls, and they had no hope but defending

themselves at the point of the sword, many among them surrendered to

the Franks, and demanded a safeguard for themselves and their property,

offering to deliver up the castle. The command was given to the priest

Kandelard (Conrad), a German; but a Frank of the Sahel (coast of Syria)

said to the Mussulmans, ‘If you give up the fortress, these men will

make you prisoners, and will kill you: preserve your own days then.’

The Mussulmans left them as if to give up the fortress; but when they

had re-ascended, they persisted in defending themselves, and fought in

despair, so that they kept the castle till the arrival of Melic-Alaziz

at Ascalon.”

[25] Nec inter ista defuit spiritus procellæ, tonitruis et

coruscationibus, et pluviarum inundationibus et grandine de cœlo

fugientes infestandâ.—_Arnold Lub._ cap. 5.

[26] Otho de St. Blaise appears convinced that the Templars had

received money to betray the cause of the Christians. He expresses

himself as follows:—Nam sicut fertur, quidam de militibus Templi, à

paganis corrupti pecuniâ, animam Conradi cancellarii, qui in hâc ipsâ

obsidione præcipuè clarebat, cum quibusdam aliis inflexerunt, eisque

auri maximo pondere collocato, obsidionem solvere persuaserunt; sicque

vendito Christo tradito paganis per castellum, sicut olim Judæis,

recesserunt. Nec tamen de pretio taliter acquisito aliquod emolumentum,

sicut nec Judas de triginta argenteis, consecuti sunt. Si quidem

pretio corrupti, corruptum à paganis aurum metallo sophistico, auro in

superficie colorato receperunt; sicque in opprobrium sempiternum cum

notâ infamiæ meritò consecuti sunt.—See _Oth. de St. Blaise_, in the

collection of Urtius.

[27] We are astonished to find so little concerning this crusade in the

continuator of William of Tyre. He speaks of this battle and of the

division among the Christians, but without any circumstance worthy of

being communicated to our readers.

[28] Arnold of Lubec says that the news of the death of the emperor of

Germany arrived before the siege of Thoron; but it is not probable that

the Crusaders, who were suddenly so anxious to return to the West on

account of the troubles that threatened Germany, should have undertaken

the siege of Thoron after hearing of a death which must give rise to

great events in Europe. Henry died in the month of September, 1196; the

siege of Thoron was begun nearly at the same time; thus the Crusaders

could not be informed at that period of a circumstance which made them

so suddenly renounce the holy war.

[29] Le Père Maimbourg bestows the greatest praise upon the widow of

Bela. “This example,” says he, “makes apparent that which has often

been seen in other princesses, that heroic virtue is not at all

dependent on sex, and that it is possible to make up for weakness of

temperament and body by greatness of soul and strength of mind.”

[30] Fuller, an English historian, speaks of this disaster at great

length. As his work is scarce, I will translate the passage from it

relative to this crusade, in which the impartial reader will find the

gross misrepresentations of a violent enemy of the Crusaders. “In this

war,” says he, “we may contemplate an episcopal army which might have

served for a synod; or, more truly, it offers us a picture of the

_Church militant_. Many captains returned home secretly, and when the

soldiers wanted to fight, the officers went away: what remained of this

army fortified themselves in Jaffa. The feast of St. Martin, that great

saint of Germany, fell at this time. This holy man, a German by birth,

and bishop of Tours in France, distinguished himself eminently by his

charity. The Germans changed his charity for the poor into excess for

themselves, observing the 11th of November in such a manner that it

ought no longer to be called a saint’s day, but a day of festivity.

Drunkenness reduced them to such a state, that the Turks, falling upon

them, killed more than twenty thousand of them. This day, which the

Germans write in red letters in their calendars, takes its colour from

their own blood, and as their camp was a slaughter-house, the Turks

were their butchers. We may compare them to the oxen of St. Martin,

which differ little from droves of drunkards.”—_Nicol. Fuller_, b.

ii. chap. xvi. p. 133. [I really cannot see that old Fuller is so very

widely wrong.—TRANS.]

[31] This is the picture of the Germans in the chronicle of

Usperg:—Bellicosi, crudeles, expensarum prodigi, rationis expertes,

voluntatem pro jure habentes, ensibus invicti; in nullis, nisi

hominibus suæ gentis confidentes; ducibus suis fidelissimi, et quibus

vitam citiùs quam fidem posses auferre.

[32] The Latin and Greek chronicles both describe the cruelties of

Henry VI. in Sicily. Nicetas, in his history, makes a long enumeration

of the punishments invented by the emperor of Germany, and says that

Greece was on the eve of seeing all the evils that afflicted Sicily

fall upon her territory, when Henry VI. was removed, as if by an

extraordinary interposition of Providence.

[33] We shall see in the end that Sicily cost Frederick II., but

particularly young Conrad, the last prince of the family of Swabia,

much embarrassment and many misfortunes.

[34] Our excellent author has conceived a kind of parental affection

for the crusades, which makes him blind to their defects. If we

speak of the _spirit_ of Christianity, certainly the philosopher of

Geneva has the advantage of him, as his own pages show. Divested of

their mundane motives, the crusades were little else than “a savage

fanaticism.” There was, at least, as much religious merit in the

Mussulmans, who fought to defend their faith. A philosopher may deduce

beneficial results from the crusades, particularly to Europe; but he

will be much puzzled to prove that that which we now consider a truly

Christian spirit, influenced many of the warriors that carried them

out, or the churchmen that promoted them. The Inquisition and the

crusade against the Albigeois were of the same age, and the principal

agents in them equally prostituted the name of religion in their

horrors.—TRANS.

[35] We have a life of Innocent III. which extends to the thirteenth

year of his pontificate. This life, _Gesta Innocentii_, is the more

valuable from being written by a contemporary.

[36] We may consult, for the preachings of this crusade, the letters of

Innocent III. Some details will be found in Roger de Hoveden, Matthew

Paris, &c. &c.

[37] Villehardouin expresses himself thus when speaking of the

indulgences of the pope:—Por ce cil pardon fut issi grand, si s’en

emeurent mult li cuers des genz, et mult s’en croisièrent, porce que li

pardon ne si grand. (The pardon was so great that the hearts of people

were moved, and many took the cross because the pardon was so great, or

complete.)

[38] Gretser has spoken at great length of the indulgences granted to

the Crusaders.—_De Cruce_, vol. iii. b. ii. c. 3.

[39] The _Chronicle_ of St. Victor speaks thus of Foulques de

Neuilly:—Et verba ejus quasi sagittæ potentis acutæ, hominum pravâ

corda consuetudine obdurata penetrarent et ad lacrymas et pœnitentiam

amolirent.

[40] If we may believe contemporary chronicles, Foulques addressed

Richard Cœur de Lion, and said to him,—“You have three daughters to

dispose of in marriage, Avarice, Pride, and Luxury.” “Well,” replied

Richard, “I give my pride to the Templars, my avarice to the monks of

Citeaux, and my luxury to the bishops.” This anecdote is quoted by

Rigord.

[41] The Latin history of the diocese of Paris thus designates the

prostitutes—Multæ mulierculæ quæ corpore quæstum faciebant.

[42] Alberic, Rigord, Otho of St. Blaise, James of Vitri, the

manuscript chronicle _Autore Radulfo Coggehalensi_, the _Chronicle_

of Brompton, and Marin Sanul, have left particulars of the life of

Foulques. The _Ecclesiastical History_ of Fleury, vol. xvi., has

collected all the materials scattered about in the old chronicles. The

Abbé Lebeuf, in his _History of Paris_, quotes a _Life of Foulques_, 1

vol. in 12mo. Paris, 1620, which we have in vain endeavoured to procure.

[43] The monk Gunther gives some account of this sermon in the history

he has left us of the conquest of Constantinople. The monk Gunther

bestows the warmest praise upon Martin Litz, who was his abbot, and

gives curious details of the sermons of the latter. He puts into the

mouth of the preacher of the crusade a discourse in which we find the

same reasons, and almost the same words, as in all the discourses of

those who had previously preached holy wars; it is probable that the

people were more affected by the spirit that reigned in Europe than

by the eloquence of the orators.—See Gunther, in the _Collection_ of

Canisius.

[44] The castle of Ecry was situated on the river Aisne, not far from

_Château Porcien_.

[45] The author of a _History of Jerusalem_, who wrote in the twelfth

century, says, when speaking of the Champenois:—Et quædam pars

Franciæ, quæ Campania dicitur, et cùm regio tota studiis armorum

floreat, hæc quodam militiæ privilegio singulariùs excellit et

præcellit; hinc martia pubes potenter egressa, vires quæ in tyrociniis

exercitaverat, in hostem ardentiùs exerit, et imaginaria bellorum

prolusione proposita, pugnans animos ad verum martem intendit.

[46] The name of Villehardouin took its origin from a village or castle

of the diocese of Troye, between Bar and Arcy; the elder branch, to

which the historian belonged, only subsisted to 1400; the younger,

which acquired the principality of Achaia, merged in the family of

Savoy. Ducange has left a very long historical notice of the genealogy

of this family.

[47] Complures tantâ pontificii indulgentissimi gratiâ illecti, et

Fulconis persuasionibus excitati, rubram crucem amiculo, quo dexter

humerus tegitur, certatim consuere.—_Rhamnusius de Bell. Constant._

lib. i.

[48] Rhamnusius gives a very minute list of the knights and barons that

took the cross. Le Père d’Outreman likewise gives a very extensive

list. In the notes that accompany the history of Villehardouin, Ducange

has left us many curious particulars upon the knights and barons of

Flanders and Champagne who took part in this crusade.

[49] Villehardouin has preserved the names of the six deputies. The

Count Thibault named two: Geoffrey of Villehardouin, Miles of Brabant.

Baldwin of Flanders, two others: Canon de Bethune, and Alard de

Maqueriaux; and the count of Blois, two: Jean de Friaise and Gauthier

de Goudonville.

[50] Innocent III. said of the republic of Venice: Quæ non agriculturis

inservit, sed navigiis potiùs et mercimoniis est intenta.—See the

first book of the _Collection of the Letters of Innocent_.

[51] Nicetas says in his history, that Dandolo was styled “The Prudent

of the Prudent.”

[52] Several historians say that Dandolo was blind, and that the

emperor Manuel Comnenus had deprived him of sight during an abode he

made at Constantinople. One of his descendants, André Dandolo, says

merely in his history that his ancestor was short-sighted (_visu

debilis_). The part of the story connected with Manuel Comnenus appears

to be a fable. Historians differ as to the age of Dandolo: Ducange,

at the period of the crusade, gives him ninety-four years. Gibbon

does not doubt of his blindness, though he has no faith in its having

been caused by Manuel; but he certainly assigns to him actions that

could scarcely be performed by a blind man. He does not believe the

accounts of his very advanced age, saying,—“It is scarcely possible

that the powers of mind and body should support themselves at such an

age.”—TRANS.

[53] Weight of Cologne or Geneva. See the terms of the treaty.

[54] The Venetians undertook, in the treaty, to distribute to each

individual of the army of the Crusaders, six setiers of bread, corn,

wheat, or vegetables, and half a pitcher (_demi-cruche_) of wine; for

each horse three bushels, Venetian measure, and water in sufficient

quantities. We are not able to value the six setiers of corn, or the

half-pitcher of wine, having no means of ascertaining the Venetian

measures.

[55] The original treaty may be seen in the _Chronicle_ of Andrew

Dandolo, pages 325, 328 of vol. xii. of Muratori.

[56] From the thirteenth century the aristocracy began at Venice to get

the better of the democracy.—See _History of Venice_, by Laugier.