having made its appearance among them, their departure was delayed for
several months. In the mean time the Empress Violante died in childbed.
John of Brienne, who had already repented of his abdication, and was
besides incensed against Frederic for many acts of neglect and insult, no
sooner saw the only tie which bound them severed by the death of his
daughter, than he began to bestir himself, and make interest with the pope
to undo what he had done, and regain the honorary crown he had renounced.
Pope Gregory IX., a man of a proud, unconciliating, and revengeful
character, owed the emperor a grudge for many an act of disobedience to
his authority, and encouraged the overtures of John of Brienne more than
he should have done. Frederic, however, despised them both, and, as soon
as his army was convalescent, set sail for Acre. He had not been many days
at sea when he was himself attacked with the malady, and obliged to return
to Otranto, the nearest port. Gregory, who had by this time decided in the
interest of John of Brienne, excommunicated the emperor for returning from
so holy an expedition on any pretext whatever. Frederic at first treated
the excommunication with supreme contempt; but when he got well, he gave
his holiness to understand that he was not to be outraged with impunity,
and sent some of his troops to ravage the papal territories. This,
however, only made the matter worse, and Gregory despatched messengers to
Palestine forbidding the faithful, under severe pains and penalties, to
hold any intercourse with the excommunicated emperor. Thus between them
both, the scheme which they had so much at heart bade fair to be as
effectually ruined as even the Saracens could have wished. Frederic still
continued his zeal in the Crusade, for he was now king of Jerusalem, and
fought for himself, and not for Christendom, or its representative, Pope
Gregory. Hearing that John of Brienne was preparing to leave Europe, he
lost no time in taking his own departure, and arrived safely at Acre. It
was here that he first experienced the evil effects of excommunication.
The Christians of Palestine refused to aid him in any way, and looked with
distrust, if not with abhorrence, upon him. The Templars, Hospitallers,
and other knights, shared at first the general feeling; but they were not
men to yield a blind obedience to a distant potentate, especially when it
compromised their own interests. When, therefore, Frederic prepared to
march upon Jerusalem without them, they joined his banners to a man.
[Illustration: TEMPLAR AND HOSPITALLER.]
It is said that, previous to quitting Europe, the German emperor had
commenced a negotiation with the Sultan Camhel for the restoration of the
Holy Land, and that Camhel, who was jealous of the ambition of his brother
Cohreddin, was willing to stipulate to that effect, on condition of being
secured by Frederic in the possession of the more important territory of
Egypt. But before the Crusaders reached Palestine, Camhel was relieved
from all fears by the death of his brother. He nevertheless did not think
it worth while to contest with the Crusaders the barren corner of the
earth which had already been dyed with so much Christian and Saracen
blood, and proposed a truce of three years, only stipulating, in addition,
that the Moslems should be allowed to worship freely in the temple of
Jerusalem. This happy termination did not satisfy the bigoted Christians
of Palestine. The tolerance they sought for themselves, they were not
willing to extend to others, and they complained bitterly of the privilege
of free worship allowed to their opponents. Unmerited good fortune had
made them insolent, and they contested the right of the emperor to become
a party to any treaty, as long as he remained under the ecclesiastical
ban. Frederic was disgusted with his new subjects; but, as the Templars
and Hospitallers remained true to him, he marched to Jerusalem to be
crowned. All the churches were shut against him, and he could not even
find a priest to officiate at his coronation. He had despised the papal
authority too long to quail at it now, when it was so unjustifiably
exerted, and, as there was nobody to crown him, he very wisely crowned
himself. He took the royal diadem from the altar with his own hands, and
boldly and proudly placed it on his brow. No shouts of an applauding
populace made the welkin ring; no hymns of praise and triumph resounded
from the ministers of religion; but a thousand swords started from their
scabbards to testify that their owners would defend the new monarch to the
death.
It was hardly to be expected that he would renounce for any long period
the dominion of his native land for the uneasy crown and barren soil of
Palestine. He had seen quite enough of his new subjects before he was six
months among them, and more important interests called him home. John of
Brienne, openly leagued with Pope Gregory against him, was actually
employed in ravaging his territories at the head of a papal army. This
intelligence decided his return. As a preliminary step, he made those who
had contemned his authority feel, to their sorrow, that he was their
master. He then set sail, loaded with the curses of Palestine. And thus
ended the seventh Crusade, which, in spite of every obstacle and
disadvantage, had been productive of more real service to the Holy Land
than any that had gone before; a result solely attributable to the bravery
of Frederic and the generosity of the Sultan Camhel.
Soon after the emperor's departure a new claimant started for the throne
of Jerusalem, in the person of Alice queen of Cyprus, and half-sister of
the Mary who, by her marriage, had transferred her right to John of
Brienne. The grand military orders, however, clung to Frederic, and Alice
was obliged to withdraw.
So peaceful a termination to the Crusade did not give unmixed pleasure in
Europe. The chivalry of France and England were unable to rest, and long
before the conclusion of the truce, were collecting their armies for an
eighth expedition. In Palestine also the contentment was far from
universal. Many petty Mahomedan states in the immediate vicinity were not
parties to the truce, and harassed the frontier towns incessantly. The
Templars, ever turbulent, waged bitter war with the sultan of Aleppo, and
in the end were almost exterminated. So great was the slaughter among them
that Europe resounded with the sad story of their fate, and many a noble
knight took arms to prevent the total destruction of an order associated
with so many high and inspiring remembrances. Camhel, seeing the
preparations that were making, thought that his generosity had been
sufficiently shewn, and the very day the truce was at an end assumed the
offensive, and marching forward to Jerusalem, took possession of it, after
routing the scanty forces of the Christians. Before this intelligence
reached Europe a large body of Crusaders was on the march, headed by the
king of Navarre, the Duke of Burgundy, the Count de Bretagne, and other
leaders. On their arrival, they learned that Jerusalem had been taken, but
that the sultan was dead, and his kingdom torn by rival claimants to the
supreme power. The dissensions of their foes ought to have made them
united, but as in all previous Crusades, each feudal chief was master of
his own host, and acted upon his own responsibility, and without reference
to any general plan. The consequence was that nothing could be done. A
temporary advantage was gained by one leader, who had no means of
improving it; while another was defeated, without means of retrieving
himself. Thus the war lingered till the battle of Gaza, when the king of
Navarre was defeated with great loss, and compelled to save himself from
total destruction by entering into a hard and oppressive treaty with the
emir of Karac.
At this crisis aid arrived from England, commanded by Richard earl of
Cornwall, the namesake of Coeur de Lion, and inheritor of his valour. His
army was strong and full of hope. They had confidence in themselves and in
their leader, and looked like men accustomed to victory. Their coming
changed the aspect of affairs. The new sultan of Egypt was at war with the
sultan of Damascus, and had not forces to oppose two enemies so powerful.
He therefore sent messengers to meet the English earl, offering an
exchange of prisoners and the complete cession of the Holy Land. Richard,
who had not come to fight for the mere sake of fighting, agreed at once to
terms so advantageous, and became the deliverer of Palestine without
striking a blow. The sultan of Egypt then turned his whole force against
his Moslem enemies, and the Earl of Cornwall returned to Europe. Thus
ended the eighth Crusade, the most beneficial of all. Christendom had no
further pretence for sending her fierce levies to the East. To all
appearance the holy wars were at an end: the Christians had entire
possession of Jerusalem, Tripoli, Antioch, Edessa, Acre, Jaffa, and, in
fact, of nearly all Judea; and, could they have been at peace among
themselves, they might have overcome, without great difficulty, the
jealousy and hostility of their neighbours. A circumstance, as unforeseen
as it was disastrous, blasted this fair prospect, and reillumed, for the
last time, the fervour and fury of the Crusades.
Gengis Khan and his successors had swept over Asia like a tropical storm,
overturning in their progress the landmarks of ages. Kingdom after kingdom
was cast down as they issued, innumerable, from the far recesses of the
North and East, and, among others, the empire of Korasmin was overrun by
these all-conquering hordes. The Korasmins, a fierce, uncivilised race,
thus driven from their homes, spread themselves, in their turn, over the
south of Asia with fire and sword, in search of a resting-place. In their
impetuous course they directed themselves towards Egypt, whose sultan,
unable to withstand the swarm that had cast their longing eyes on the
fertile valleys of the Nile, endeavoured to turn them from their course.
For this purpose, he sent emissaries to Barbaquan, their leader, inviting
them to settle in Palestine; and the offer being accepted by the wild
horde, they entered the country before the Christians received the
slightest intimation of their coming. It was as sudden as it was
overwhelming. Onwards, like the simoom, they came, burning and slaying,
and were at the walls of Jerusalem before the inhabitants had time to look
round them. They spared neither life nor property; they slew women and
children, and priests at the altar, and profaned even the graves of those
who had slept for ages. They tore down every vestige of the Christian
faith, and committed horrors unparalleled in the history of warfare. About
seven thousand of the inhabitants of Jerusalem sought safety in retreat;
but before they were out of sight, the banner of the cross was hoisted
upon the walls by the savage foe to decoy them back. The artifice was but
too successful. The poor fugitives imagined that help had arrived from
another direction, and turned back to regain their homes. Nearly the whole
of them were massacred, and the streets of Jerusalem ran with blood.
[Illustration: JAFFA.]
The Templars, Hospitallers, and Teutonic knights forgot their long and
bitter animosities, and joined hand in hand to rout out this desolating
foe. They entrenched themselves in Jaffa with all the chivalry of
Palestine that yet remained, and endeavoured to engage the sultans of
Emissa and Damascus to assist them against the common enemy. The aid
obtained from the Moslems amounted at first to only four thousand men, but
with these reinforcements Walter of Brienne, the lord of Jaffa, resolved
to give battle to the Korasmins. The conflict was as deadly as despair on
the one side, and unmitigated ferocity on the other, could make it. It
lasted with varying fortune for two days, when the sultan of Emissa fled
to his fortifications, and Walter of Brienne fell into the enemy's hands.
The brave knight was suspended by the arms to a cross in sight of the
walls of Jaffa, and the Korasminian leader declared that he should remain
in that position until the city surrendered. Walter raised his feeble
voice, not to advise surrender, but to command his soldiers to hold out to
the last. But his gallantry was unavailing. So great had been the
slaughter, that out of the grand array of knights, there now remained but
sixteen Hospitallers, thirty-three Templars, and three Teutonic cavaliers.
These with the sad remnant of the army fled to Acre, and the Korasmins
were masters of Palestine.
The sultans of Syria preferred the Christians to this fierce horde for
their neighbours. Even the sultan of Egypt began to regret the aid he had
given to such barbarous foes, and united with those of Emissa and Damascus
to root them from the land. The Korasmins amounted to but twenty thousand
men, and were unable to resist the determined hostility which encompassed
them on every side. The sultans defeated them in several engagements, and
the peasantry rose up in masses to take vengeance upon them. Gradually
their numbers were diminished. No mercy was shewn them in defeat.
Barbaquan their leader was slain; and after five years of desperate
struggles, they were finally extirpated, and Palestine became once more
the territory of the Mussulmans.
[Illustration: WILLIAM LONGSWORD.]
A short time previous to this devastating eruption, Louis IX. fell sick in
Paris, and dreamed in the delirium of his fever that he saw the Christian
and Moslem host fighting before Jerusalem, and the Christians defeated
with great slaughter. The dream made a great impression on his
superstitious mind, and he made a solemn vow, that if ever he recovered
his health, he would take a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. When the news of
the misfortunes of Palestine, and the awful massacres at Jerusalem and
Jaffa, arrived in Europe, St. Louis remembered him of his dream. More
persuaded than ever that it was an intimation direct from heaven, he
prepared to take the cross at the head of his armies, and march to the
deliverance of the Holy Sepulchre. From that moment he doffed the royal
mantle of purple and ermine, and dressed in the sober serge becoming a
pilgrim. All his thoughts were directed to the fulfilment of his design,
and although his kingdom could but ill spare him, he made every
preparation to leave it. Pope Innocent IV. applauded his zeal and afforded
him every assistance. He wrote to Henry III. of England to forward the
cause in his dominions, and called upon the clergy and laity all over
Europe to contribute towards it. William Longsword, the celebrated Earl of
Salisbury, took the cross at the head of a great number of valiant knights
and soldiers. But the fanaticism of the people was not to be awakened
either in France or England. Great armies were raised, but the masses no
longer sympathised. Taxation had been the great cooler of zeal. It was no
longer a disgrace even to a knight if he refused to take the cross.
Rutebeuf, a French minstrel, who flourished about this time (1250),
composed a dialogue between a Crusader and a non-Crusader, which the
reader will find translated in Way's _Fabliaux_. The Crusader uses every
argument to persuade the non-Crusader to take up arms, and forsake every
thing, in the holy cause; but it is evident from the greater force of the
arguments used by the non-Crusader, that he was the favourite of the
minstrel. To a most urgent solicitation of his friend the Crusader, he
replies:
"I read thee right, thou holdest good
To this same land I straight should hie,
And win it back with mickle blood,
Nor gaine one foot of soil thereby;
While here dejected and forlorn
My wife and babes are left to mourn;
My goodly mansion rudely marred,
All trusted to my dogs to guard.
But I, fair comrade, well I wot
An ancient saw of pregnant wit
Doth bid us keep what we have got;
And troth I mean to follow it."
This being the general feeling, it is not to be wondered at that Louis IX.
was occupied fully three years in organising his forces, and in making the
necessary preparations for his departure. When all was ready he set sail
for Cyprus, accompanied by his queen, his two brothers, the Counts d'Anjou
and d'Artois, and a long train of the noblest chivalry of France. His
third brother, the Count de Poitiers, remained behind to collect another
corps of Crusaders, and followed him in a few months afterwards. The army
united at Cyprus, and amounted to fifty thousand men, exclusive of the
English Crusaders under William Longsword. Again, a pestilential disease
made its appearance, to which many hundreds fell victims. It was in
consequence found necessary to remain in Cyprus until the spring. Louis
then embarked for Egypt with his whole host; but a violent tempest
separated his fleet, and he arrived before Damietta with only a few
thousand men. They were, however, impetuous and full of hope; and although
the Sultan Melick Shah was drawn up on the shore with a force infinitely
superior, it was resolved to attempt a landing without waiting the arrival
of the rest of the army. Louis himself, in wild impatience, sprang from
his boat, and waded on shore; while his army, inspired by his enthusiastic
bravery, followed, shouting the old war-cry of the first Crusaders, _Dieu
le veut! Dieu le veut!_ A panic seized the Turks. A body of their cavalry
attempted to bear down upon the Crusaders, but the knights fixed their
large shields deep in the sands of the shore, and rested their lances upon
them, so that they projected above, and formed a barrier so imposing, that
the Turks, afraid to breast it, turned round and fairly took to flight. At
the moment of this panic, a false report was spread in the Saracen host,
that the sultan had been slain. The confusion immediately became
general--the _deroute_ was complete: Damietta itself was abandoned, and
the same night the victorious Crusaders fixed their head-quarters in that
city. The soldiers who had been separated from their chief by the tempest
arrived shortly afterwards; and Louis was in a position to justify the
hope, not only of the conquest of Palestine, but of Egypt itself.
But too much confidence proved the bane of his army. They thought, as they
had accomplished so much, that nothing more remained to be done, and gave
themselves up to ease and luxury. When, by the command of Louis, they
marched towards Cairo, they were no longer the same men; success, instead
of inspiring, had unnerved them; debauchery had brought on disease, and
disease was aggravated by the heat of a climate to which none of them were
accustomed. Their progress towards Massoura, on the road to Cairo, was
checked by the Thanisian canal, on the banks of which the Saracens were
drawn up to dispute the passage. Louis gave orders that a bridge should be
thrown across: and the operations commenced under cover of two
cat-castles, or high movable towers. The Saracens soon destroyed them by
throwing quantities of Greek fire, the artillery of that day, upon them,
and Louis was forced to think of some other means of effecting his design.
A peasant agreed, for a considerable bribe, to point out a ford where the
army might wade across, and the Count d'Artois was despatched with
fourteen hundred men to attempt it, while Louis remained to face the
Saracens with the main body of the army. The Count d'Artois got safely
over, and defeated the detachment that had been sent to oppose his
landing. Flushed with the victory, the brave count forgot the inferiority
of his numbers, and pursued the panic-stricken enemy into Massoura. He was
now completely cut off from the aid of his brother Crusaders, which the
Moslems perceiving, took courage and returned upon him, with a force
swollen by the garrison of Massoura, and by reinforcements from the
surrounding districts. The battle now became hand to hand. The Christians
fought with the energy of desperate men, but the continually increasing
numbers of the foe surrounded them completely, and cut off all hope,
either of victory or escape. The Count d'Artois was among the foremost of
the slain; and when Louis arrived to the rescue, the brave advanced-guard
was nearly cut to pieces. Of the fourteen hundred but three hundred
remained. The fury of the battle was now increased threefold. The French
king and his troops performed prodigies of valour, and the Saracens, under
the command of the Emir Ceccidun, fought as if they were determined to
exterminate, in one last decisive effort, the new European swarm that had
settled upon their coast. At the fall of the evening dews the Christians
were masters of the field of Massoura, and flattered themselves that they
were the victors. Self-love would not suffer them to confess that the
Saracens had withdrawn, and not retreated; but their leaders were too
wofully convinced that that fatal field had completed the disorganisation
of the Christian army, and that all hopes of future conquest were at an
end.
Impressed with this truth, the Crusaders sued for peace. The sultan
insisted upon the immediate evacuation of Damietta, and that Louis himself
should be delivered as hostage for the fulfilment of the condition. His
army at once refused, and the negotiations were broken off. It was now
resolved to attempt a retreat; but the agile Saracens, now in the front
and now in the rear, rendered it a matter of extreme difficulty, and cut
off the stragglers in great numbers. Hundreds of them were drowned in the
Nile; and sickness and famine worked sad ravages upon those who escaped
all other casualties. Louis himself was so weakened by disease, fatigue,
and discouragement, that he was hardly able to sit upon his horse. In the
confusion of the flight he was separated from his attendants, and left a
total stranger upon the sands of Egypt, sick, weary, and almost
friendless. One knight, Geffry de Sergines, alone attended him, and led
him to a miserable hut in a small village, where for several days he lay
in the hourly expectation of death. He was at last discovered and taken
prisoner by the Saracens, who treated him with all the honour due to his
rank and all the pity due to his misfortunes. Under their care his health
rapidly improved, and the next consideration was that of his ransom.
The Saracens demanded, besides money, the cession of Acre, Tripoli, and
other cities of Palestine. Louis unhesitatingly refused, and conducted
himself with so much pride and courage that the sultan declared he was the
proudest infidel he had ever beheld. After a good deal of haggling, the
sultan agreed to waive these conditions, and a treaty was finally
concluded. The city of Damietta was restored; a truce of ten years agreed
upon, and ten thousand golden bezants paid for the release of Louis and
the liberation of all the captives. Louis then withdrew to Jaffa, and
spent two years in putting that city, and Cesarea, with the other
possessions of the Christians in Palestine, into a proper state of
defence. He then returned to his own country, with great reputation as a
saint, but very little as a soldier.
Matthew Paris informs us that, in the year 1250, while Louis was in Egypt,
"thousands of the English were resolved to go to the holy war, had not the
king strictly guarded his ports and kept his people from running out of
doors." When the news arrived of the reverses and captivity of the French
king, their ardour cooled; and the Crusade was sung of only, but not
spoken of.
In France, a very different feeling was the result. The news of the king's
capture spread consternation through the country. A fanatic monk of
Citeaux suddenly appeared in the villages, preaching to the people, and
announcing that the Holy Virgin, accompanied by a whole army of saints and
martyrs, had appeared to him, and commanded him to stir up the shepherds
and farm-labourers to the defence of the cross. To them only was his
discourse addressed; and his eloquence was such, that thousands flocked
around him, ready to follow wherever he should lead. The pastures and the
corn-fields were deserted, and the shepherds, or _pastoureaux_, as they
were termed, became at last so numerous as to amount to upwards of fifty
thousand,--Millot says one hundred thousand men.[20] The Queen Blanche,
who governed as regent during the absence of the king, encouraged at first
the armies of the _pastoureaux_; but they soon gave way to such vile
excesses that the peaceably disposed were driven to resistance. Robbery,
murder, and violation marked their path; and all good men, assisted by the
government, united in putting them down. They were finally dispersed, but
not before three thousand of them had been massacred. Many authors say
that the slaughter was still greater.
[20] _Elémens de l'Histoire de France_.
The ten years' truce concluded in 1264, and St. Louis was urged by two
powerful motives to undertake a second expedition for the relief of
Palestine. These were, fanaticism on the one hand, and a desire of
retrieving his military fame on the other, which had suffered more than
his parasites liked to remind him of. The pope, of course, encouraged his
design, and once more the chivalry of Europe began to bestir themselves.
In 1268, Edward, the heir of the English monarchy, announced his
determination to join the Crusade; and the pope (Clement IV.) wrote to the
prelates and clergy to aid the cause by their persuasions and their
revenues. In England, they agreed to contribute a tenth of their
possessions; and by a parliamentary order, a twentieth was taken from the
corn and movables of all the laity at Michaelmas.