Henry II. of England and Philip Augustus of France, at the head of their

chivalry, supported the Crusade with all their influence, until wars and

dissensions nearer home estranged them from it for a time. The two kings

met at Gisors in Normandy in the month of January, 1188, accompanied by a

brilliant train of knights and warriors. William of Tyre was present, and

expounded the cause of the cross with considerable eloquence, and the

whole assembly bound themselves by oath to proceed to Jerusalem. It was

agreed at the same time that a tax, called Saladin's tithe, and consisting

of the tenth part of all possessions, whether landed or personal, should

be enforced over Christendom, upon every one who was either unable or

unwilling to assume the cross. The lord of every feof, whether lay or

ecclesiastical, was charged to raise the tithe within his own

jurisdiction; and any one who refused to pay his quota, became by that act

the bondsman and absolute property of his lord. At the same time the

greatest indulgence was shewn to those who assumed the cross; no man was

at liberty to stay them by process of any kind, whether for debt, or

robbery, or murder. The king of France, at the breaking up of the

conference, summoned a parliament at Paris, where these resolutions were

solemnly confirmed, while Henry II. did the same for his Norman

possessions at Rouen, and for England at Geddington, in Northamptonshire.

To use the words of an ancient chronicler,[14] "he held a parliament about

the voyage into the Holy Land, and troubled the whole land with the paying

of tithes towards it."

[14] Stowe.

[Illustration: PHILIP AUGUSTUS.]

But it was not England alone that was "_troubled_" by the tax. The people

of France also looked upon it with no pleasant feelings, and appear from

that time forth to have changed their indifference for the Crusade into

aversion. Even the clergy, who were exceedingly willing that other people

should contribute half, or even all their goods in furtherance of their

favourite scheme, were not at all anxious to contribute a single sous

themselves. Millot[15] relates that several of them cried out against the

impost. Among the rest, the clergy of Rheims were called upon to pay their

quota, but sent a deputation to the king, begging him to be contented with

the aid of their prayers, as they were too poor to contribute in any other

shape. Philip Augustus knew better, and by way of giving them a lesson,

employed three nobles of the vicinity to lay waste the Church lands. The

clergy, informed of the outrage, applied to the king for redress. "I will

aid you with my prayers," said the monarch condescendingly, "and will

entreat those gentlemen to let the Church alone." He did as he had

promised, but in such a manner that the nobles, who appreciated the joke,

continued their devastations as before. Again the clergy applied to the

king. "What would you have of me?" he replied, in answer to their

remonstrances: "you gave me your prayers in my necessity, and I have given

you mine in yours." The clergy understood the argument, and thought it the

wiser course to pay their quota of Saladin's tithe without further parley.

[15] _Elémens de l'Histoire de France_.

This anecdote shews the unpopularity of the Crusade. If the clergy

disliked to contribute, it is no wonder that the people felt still greater

antipathy. But the chivalry of Europe was eager for the affray: the tithe

was rigorously collected, and armies from England, France, Burgundy,

Italy, Flanders, and Germany, were soon in the field. The two kings who

were to have led it were, however, drawn into broils by an aggression of

Richard duke of Guienne, better known as Richard Coeur de Lion, upon the

territory of the Count of Toulouse, and the proposed journey to Palestine

was delayed. War continued to rage between France and England, and with so

little probability of a speedy termination, that many of the nobles, bound

to the Crusade, left the two monarchs to settle the differences at their

leisure, and proceeded to Palestine without them.

Death at last stepped in and removed Henry II. from the hostility of his

foes, and the treachery and ingratitude of his children. His son Richard

immediately concluded an alliance with Philip Augustus; and the two young,

valiant, and impetuous monarchs united all their energies to forward the

Crusade. They met with a numerous and brilliant retinue at Nonancourt in

Normandy, where, in sight of their assembled chivalry, they embraced as

brothers, and swore to live as friends and true allies, until a period of

forty days after their return from the Holy Land. With a view of purging

their camp from the follies and vices which had proved so ruinous to

preceding expeditions, they drew up a code of laws for the government of

the army. Gambling had been carried to a great extent, and proved the

fruitful source of quarrels and bloodshed; and one of their laws

prohibited any person in the army, beneath the degree of a knight, from

playing at any game for money.[16] Knights and clergymen might play for

money, but no one was permitted to lose or gain more than twenty shillings

in a day, under a penalty of one hundred shillings. The personal

attendants of the monarchs were also allowed to play to the same extent.

The penalty in their case for infraction was that they should be whipped

naked through the army for the space of three days. Any Crusader, who

struck another and drew blood, was ordered to have his hand cut off; and

whoever slew a brother Crusader was condemned to be tied alive to the

corpse of his victim, and buried with him. No young women were allowed to

follow the army, to the great sorrow of many vicious and of many virtuous

dames, who had not courage to elude the decree by dressing in male attire.

But many high-minded and affectionate maidens and matrons, bearing the

sword or the spear, followed their husbands and lovers to the war in spite

of King Richard, and in defiance of danger. The only women allowed to

accompany the army in their own habiliments were washerwomen of fifty

years complete, and any others of the fair sex who had reached the same

age.

[16] Strutt's _Sports and Pastimes_.

These rules having been promulgated, the two monarchs marched together to

Lyons, where they separated, agreeing to meet again at Messina. Philip

proceeded across the Alps to Genoa, where he took ship, and was conveyed

in safety to the place of rendezvous. Richard turned in the direction of

Marseilles, where he also took ship for Messina. His impetuous disposition

hurried him into many squabbles by the way, and his knights and followers,

for the most part as brave and as foolish as himself, imitated him very

zealously in this particular. At Messina the Sicilians charged the most

exorbitant prices for every necessary of life. Richard's army in vain

remonstrated. From words they came to blows, and, as a last resource,

plundered the Sicilians, since they could not trade with them. Continual

battles were the consequence, in one of which Lebrun, the favourite

attendant of Richard, lost his life. The peasantry from far and near came

flocking to the aid of the townspeople, and the battle soon became

general. Richard, irritated at the loss of his favourite, and incited by

report that Tancred, the king of Sicily, was fighting at the head of his

own people, joined the _mêlée_ with his boldest knights, and, beating back

the Sicilians, attacked the city sword in hand, stormed the battlements,

tore down the flag of Sicily, and planted his own in its stead. This

collision gave great offence to the king of France, who became from that

time jealous of Richard, and apprehensive that his design was not so much

to re-establish the Christian kingdom of Jerusalem, as to make conquests

for himself. He, however, exerted his influence to restore peace between

the English and Sicilians, and shortly afterwards set sail for Acre, with

distrust of his ally germinating in his heart.

[Illustration: THE ISLAND OF RHODES.]

Richard remained behind for some weeks in a state of inactivity quite

unaccountable in one of his temperament. He appears to have had no more

squabbles with the Sicilians, but to have lived an easy, luxurious life,

forgetting, in the lap of pleasure, the objects for which he had quitted

his own dominions and the dangerous laxity he was introducing into his

army. The superstition of his soldiers recalled him at length to a sense

of his duty: a comet was seen for several successive nights, which was

thought to menace them with the vengeance of Heaven for their delay.

Shooting stars gave them similar warning; and a fanatic, of the name of

Joachim, with his drawn sword in his hand, and his long hair streaming

wildly over his shoulders, went through the camp, howling all night long,

and predicting plague, famine, and every other calamity, if they did not

set out immediately. Richard did not deem it prudent to neglect the

intimations; and, after doing humble penance for his remissness, he set

sail for Acre.

A violent storm dispersed his fleet, but he arrived safely at Rhodes with

the principal part of the armament. Here he learned that three of his

ships had been stranded on the rocky coasts of Cyprus, and that the ruler

of the island, Isaac Comnenus, had permitted his people to pillage the

unfortunate crews, and had refused shelter to his betrothed bride, the

Princess Berengaria, and his sister, who, in one of the vessels, had been

driven by stress of weather into the port of Limisso. The fiery monarch

swore to be revenged, and, collecting all his vessels, sailed back to

Limisso. Isaac Comnenus refused to apologise or explain, and Richard, in

no mood to be trifled with, landed on the island, routed with great loss

the forces sent to oppose him, and laid the whole country under

contribution.

[Illustration: RICHARD I. AND BERENGARIA.]

On his arrival at Acre he found the whole of the chivalry of Europe there

before him. Guy of Lusignan, the king of Jerusalem, had long before

collected the bold Knights of the Temple, the Hospital, and St. John, and

had laid siege to Acre, which was resolutely defended by the Sultan

Saladin, with an army magnificent both for its numbers and its discipline.

For nearly two years the Crusaders had pushed the siege, and made efforts

almost superhuman to dislodge the enemy. Various battles had taken place

in the open fields with no decisive advantage to either party, and Guy of

Lusignan had begun to despair of taking that strong position without aid

from Europe. His joy was extreme on the arrival of Philip with all his

chivalry, and he only awaited the coming of Coeur de Lion to make one last

decisive attack upon the town. When the fleet of England was first seen

approaching the shores of Syria, a universal shout arose from the

Christian camp; and when Richard landed with his train, one louder still

pierced to the very mountains of the south, where Saladin lay with all his

army.

It may be remarked as characteristic of this Crusade, that the Christians

and the Moslems no longer looked upon each other as barbarians, to whom

mercy was a crime. Each host entertained the highest admiration for the

bravery and magnanimity of the other, and, in their occasional truces, met

upon the most friendly terms. The Moslem warriors were full of courtesy to

the Christian knights, and had no other regret than to think that such

fine fellows were not Mahomedans. The Christians, with a feeling precisely

similar, extolled to the skies the nobleness of the Saracens, and sighed

to think that such generosity and valour should be sullied by disbelief in

the Gospel of Jesus. But when the strife began, all these feelings

disappeared, and the struggle became mortal.

The jealousy excited in the mind of Philip by the events of Messina still

rankled, and the two monarchs refused to act in concert. Instead of making

a joint attack upon the town, the French monarch assailed it alone, and

was repulsed. Richard did the same, and with the same result. Philip tried

to seduce the soldiers of Richard from their allegiance by the offer of

three gold pieces per month to every knight who would forsake the banners

of England for those of France. Richard endeavoured to neutralise the

offer by a larger one, and promised four pieces to every French knight who

should join the Lion of England. In this unworthy rivalry their time was

wasted, to the great detriment of the discipline and efficiency of their

followers. Some good was nevertheless effected; for the mere presence of

two such armies prevented the besieged city from receiving supplies, and

the inhabitants were reduced by famine to the most woful straits. Saladin

did not deem it prudent to risk a general engagement by coming to their

relief, but preferred to wait till dissension had weakened his enemy, and

made him an easy prey. Perhaps if he had been aware of the real extent of

the extremity in Acre, he would have changed his plan; but, cut off from

the town, he did not know its misery till it was too late. After a short

truce the city capitulated upon terms so severe that Saladin afterwards

refused to ratify them. The chief conditions were, that the precious wood

of the true cross, captured by the Moslems in Jerusalem, should be

restored; that a sum of two hundred thousand gold pieces should be paid;

and that all the Christian prisoners in Acre should be released, together

with two hundred knights and a thousand soldiers detained in captivity by

Saladin. The eastern monarch, as may be well conceived, did not set much

store on the wood of the cross, but was nevertheless anxious to keep it,

as he knew its possession by the Christians would do more than a victory

to restore their courage. He refused, therefore, to deliver it up, or to

accede to any of the conditions; and Richard, as he had previously

threatened, barbarously ordered all the Saracen prisoners in his power to

be put to death.

The possession of the city only caused new and unhappy dissensions between

the Christian leaders. The Archduke of Austria unjustifiably hoisted his

flag on one of the towers of Acre, which Richard no sooner saw than he

tore it down with his own hands, and trampled it under his feet. Philip,

though he did not sympathise with the archduke, was piqued at the

assumption of Richard, and the breach between the two monarchs became

wider than ever. A foolish dispute arose at the same time between Guy of

Lusignan and Conrad of Montferrat for the crown of Jerusalem. The inferior

knights were not slow to imitate the pernicious example, and jealousy,

distrust, and ill-will reigned in the Christian camp. In the midst of this

confusion the king of France suddenly announced his intention to return to

his own country. Richard was filled with indignation, and exclaimed,

"Eternal shame light on him, and on all France, if, for any cause, he

leave this work unfinished!" But Philip was not to be stayed. His health

had suffered by his residence in the East; and, ambitious of playing a

first part, he preferred to play none at all than to play second to King

Richard. Leaving a small detachment of Burgundians behind, he returned to

France with the remainder of his army; and Coeur de Lion, without feeling,

in the multitude of his rivals, that he had lost the greatest, became

painfully convinced that the right arm of the enterprise was lopped off.

After his departure, Richard re-fortified Acre, restored the Christian

worship in the churches, and, leaving a Christian garrison to protect it,

marched along the sea-coast towards Ascalon. Saladin was on the alert, and

sent his light horse to attack the rear of the Christian army, while he

himself, miscalculating their weakness since the defection of Philip,

endeavoured to force them to a general engagement. The rival armies met

near Azotus. A fierce battle ensued, in which Saladin was defeated and put

to flight, and the road to Jerusalem left free for the Crusaders.

Again discord exerted its baleful influence, and prevented Richard from

following up his victory. His opinion was constantly opposed by the other

leaders, all jealous of his bravery and influence; and the army, instead

of marching to Jerusalem, or even to Ascalon, as was first intended,

proceeded to Jaffa, and remained in idleness until Saladin was again in a

condition to wage war against them.

[Illustration: BETHLEHEM.]

Many months were spent in fruitless hostilities and as fruitless

negotiations. Richard's wish was to recapture Jerusalem; but there were

difficulties in the way, which even his bold spirit could not conquer. His

own intolerable pride was not the least cause of the evil; for it

estranged many a generous spirit, who would have been willing to

co-operate with him in all cordiality. At length it was agreed to march to

the Holy City; but the progress made was so slow and painful, that the

soldiers murmured, and the leaders meditated retreat. The weather was hot

and dry, and there was little water to be procured. Saladin had choked up

the wells and cisterns on the route, and the army had not zeal enough to

push forward amid such privation. At Bethlehem a council was held, to

debate whether they should retreat or advance. Retreat was decided upon,

and immediately commenced. It is said, that Richard was first led to a

hill, whence he could obtain a sight of the towers of Jerusalem, and that

he was so affected at being so near it, and so unable to relieve it, that

he hid his face behind his shield, and sobbed aloud.

The army separated into two divisions, the smaller falling back upon

Jaffa, and the larger, commanded by Richard and the Duke of Burgundy,

returning to Acre. Before the English monarch had made all his

preparations for his return to Europe, a messenger reached Acre with the

intelligence that Jaffa was besieged by Saladin, and that, unless relieved

immediately, the city would be taken. The French, under the Duke of

Burgundy, were so wearied with the war, that they refused to aid their

brethren in Jaffa. Richard, blushing with shame at their pusillanimity,

called his English to the rescue, and arrived just in time to save the

city. His very name put the Saracens to flight, so great was their dread

of his prowess. Saladin regarded him with the warmest admiration, and when

Richard, after his victory, demanded peace, willingly acceded. A truce was

concluded for three years and eight months, during which Christian

pilgrims were to enjoy the liberty of visiting Jerusalem without hindrance

or payment of any tax. The Crusaders were allowed to retain the cities of

Tyre and Jaffa, with the country intervening. Saladin, with a princely

generosity, invited many of the Christians to visit Jerusalem; and several

of the leaders took advantage of his offer to feast their eyes upon a spot

which all considered so sacred. Many of them were entertained for days in

the sultan's own palace, from which they returned with their tongues laden

with the praises of the noble infidel. Richard and Saladin never met,

though the impression that they did will remain on many minds, who have

been dazzled by the glorious fiction of Sir Walter Scott. But each admired

the prowess and nobleness of soul of his rival, and agreed to terms far

less onerous than either would have accepted, had this mutual admiration

not existed.[17]

[17] Richard left a high reputation in Palestine. So much terror

did his name occasion, that the women of Syria used it to

frighten their children for ages afterwards. Every

disobedient child became still when told that King Richard

was coming. Even men shared the panic that his name created;

and a hundred years afterwards, whenever a horse shied at any

object in the way, his rider would exclaim, "What! dost thou

think King Richard is in the bush?"

The king of England no longer delayed his departure, for messengers from

his own country brought imperative news that his presence was required to

defeat the intrigues that were fomenting against his crown. His long

imprisonment in the Austrian dominions and final ransom are too well known

to be dwelt upon. And thus ended the third Crusade, less destructive of

human life than the two first, but quite as useless.

The flame of popular enthusiasm now burned pale indeed, and all the

efforts of popes and potentates were insufficient to rekindle it. At last,

after flickering unsteadily, like a lamp expiring in the socket, it burned

up brightly for one final instant, and was extinguished for ever.

The fourth Crusade, as connected with popular feeling, requires little or

no notice. At the death of Saladin, which happened a year after the

conclusion of his truce with Richard of England, his vast empire fell to

pieces. His brother Saif Eddin, or Saphaddin, seized upon Syria, in the

possession of which he was troubled by the sons of Saladin. When this

intelligence reached Europe, the Pope, Celestine III., judged the moment

favourable for preaching a new Crusade. But every nation in Europe was

unwilling and cold towards it. The people had no ardour, and kings were

occupied with more weighty matters at home. The only monarch of Europe who

encouraged it was the Emperor Henry of Germany, under whose auspices the

Dukes of Saxony and Bavaria took the field at the head of a considerable

force. They landed in Palestine, and found any thing but a welcome from

the Christian inhabitants. Under the mild sway of Saladin, they had

enjoyed repose and toleration, and both were endangered by the arrival of

the Germans. They looked upon them in consequence as over-officious

intruders, and gave them no encouragement in the warfare against

Saphaddin. The result of this Crusade was even more disastrous than the

last; for the Germans contrived not only to embitter the Saracens against

the Christians of Judea, but to lose the strong city of Jaffa, and cause

the destruction of nine-tenths of the army with which they had quitted

Europe. And so ended the fourth Crusade.

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