REVERSES.
1191
Feuds in the Christian army.--The march in November.--The
army weakened by disease, mutiny, and desertion.--The return
to Ascalon.--Rebuilding the fortifications.--Saladin presses
upon the retiring army.--Skirmishing.--Contrivances of the
enemy to harass the army.--Difficulties which the king met
with in repairing Ascalon.--The troops unwilling to
labor.--Resentment of Leopold.--The present which Richard
made to Berengaria.--Intercession of Leopold.--Richard's
exasperation.--Richard expels Leopold from Ascalon.--The
work goes on.--Waiting for re-enforcements.--The Abbot of
Clairvaux.--The truce.--Courtesy of enemies when not at
contest.--Presents.--Saladin's present to Richard.--The Christian
army discouraged.--King Richard uneasy respecting the state
of England.--Selfishness, not generosity, was the secret
motive.--Saladin's reason for retaining Jerusalem.--A political
marriage.--The compromise was opposed by the priests.--The
scheme of joint occupancy of Jerusalem abandoned.
By this time very serious dissensions and difficulties had arisen in
the army of the Crusaders. There were a great many chieftains who felt
very independent of each other, and feuds and quarrels of long
standing broke out anew, and with more violence than ever. There were
many different opinions, too, in respect to the course which it was
now best to pursue. Richard, however, contrived yet to maintain some
sort of authority, and he finally decided to commence his march from
Jaffa.
It was now November. The fall rains began to set in. The distance to
Jerusalem was but about thirty-two miles. The army advanced to Ramula,
which is about fifteen miles from Jaffa, but they endured very great
hardships and sufferings from the extreme inclemency of the season.
The soldiers were wet to the skin by drenching rains. Their provisions
were soaked and spoiled, and their armor was rusted, and much of it
rendered useless. When they attempted to pitch their tents at night
at Ramula, the wind tore them from their fastenings, and blew the
canvas away, so as to deprive them of shelter.
Of course, these disasters increased the discontent in the army, and,
by making the men impatient and ill-natured, increased the bitterness
of their quarrels. The army finally advanced, however, as far as
Bethany, with a forlorn hope of being strong enough, when they should
arrive there, to attack Jerusalem; but this hope, when the time came,
Richard was obliged to abandon. The rain and exposure had brought a
great deal of disease into the camp. The men were dying in great
numbers. This mortality was increased by famine, for the stores which
the army had brought with them were spoiled by the rain, and Saladin
had so laid waste the country that no fresh supplies could be
obtained. Then, in addition to this, the soldiers, finding their
sufferings intolerable, and seeing no hope of relief, began to desert
in great numbers, and Richard finally found that there was no
alternative for him but to fall back again to the sea-shore.
Instead of going to Jaffa, however, he proceeded to Ascalon. Ascalon
was a larger and stronger city than Jaffa. At least it had been
stronger, and its fortifications were more extensive, though the place
had been dismantled by Saladin before he left the coast. This town, as
you will see by the map, is situated toward the southern part of
Palestine, near to the confines of Egypt, and it had been a place of
importance as a sort of entrepot of commerce between Egypt and the
Holy Land. Richard began to think that it would be necessary for him
to establish his army somewhat permanently in the strong places on the
coast, and wait until he could obtain re-enforcements from Europe
before attempting again to advance toward Jerusalem. He thought it
important, therefore, to take possession of Ascalon, and thus--Acre
and Jaffa being already strongly garrisoned--the whole coast would be
secure under his control.
Accordingly, on his retreat from Jerusalem, he proceeded with a large
portion of his army to Ascalon, and immediately commenced the work of
repairing the walls and rebuilding the towers, not knowing how soon
Saladin might be upon him.
Indeed, Saladin and his troops had followed Richard's army on their
retreat from Bethany, and had pressed them very closely all the way.
It was at one time quite doubtful whether they would succeed in making
good their retreat to Ascalon. The Saracen horsemen hovered in great
numbers on the rear of Richard's army, and made incessant skirmishing
attacks upon them. Richard placed a strong body of the Knights of St.
John there to keep them off. These knights were well armed, and they
were brave and well-trained warriors. They beat back the Saracens
whenever they came near. Still, many of the knights were killed, and
straggling parties, from time to time, were cut off, and the whole
army was kept in a constant state of suspense and excitement, during
the whole march, by the continual danger of an attack. When, at
length, they approached the sea-shore, and turned to the south on the
way to Ascalon, they were a little more safe, for the sea defended
them on one side. Still, the Saracens turned with them, and hovered
about their left flank, which was the one that was turned toward the
land, and harassed the march all the way. The progress of the troops
was greatly retarded too, as well as made more fatiguing, by the
presence of such an enemy; for they were not only obliged to move more
slowly when they were advancing, but they could only halt at night in
places which were naturally strong and easily to be defended, for fear
of an assault upon their encampment in the night. During the night,
too, notwithstanding all the precautions they could take to secure a
strong and safe position, the men were continually roused from their
slumbers by an alarm that the Saracens were coming upon them, when
they would rush from their tents, and seize their arms, and prepare
for a combat; and then, after a time, they would learn that the
expected attack was only a feint made by a small body of the enemy
just to harass them.
It might seem, at first view, that such a warfare as this would weary
and exhaust the pursuers as much as the pursued, but in reality it is
not so. In the case of a night alarm, for instance, the whole camp of
the Crusaders would be aroused from their sleep by it, and kept in a
state of suspense for an hour or more before the truth could be fully
ascertained, while to give the alarm would require only a very small
party from the army of the Saracens, the main body retiring as usual
to sleep, and sleeping all night undisturbed.
At length Richard reached Ascalon in safety, and posted himself
within the walls, while Saladin established his camp at a safe
distance in the interior of the country. Of course, the first thing
which he found was to be done, as has already been remarked, was to
repair and strengthen the walls, and it was evident that no time was
to be lost in accomplishing this work.
But, unfortunately, the character of the materials of which Richard's
army was composed was not such as to favor any special efficiency in
conducting an engineering operation. All the knights, and a large
proportion of the common soldiers, deemed themselves gentlemen. They
had volunteered to join the crusade from high and romantic notions of
chivalry and religion. They were perfectly ready, at any time, to
fight the Saracens, and to kill or be killed, whichever fate the
fortune of war might assign them; but to bear burdens, to mix mortar,
and to build walls, were occupations far beneath them; and the only
way to induce them to take hold of this work seems to have been for
the knights and officers to set them the example.
Thus, in repairing the walls of Acre, all the highest officers of the
army, with Richard himself at the head of them, took hold of the work
with their own hands, and built away on the walls and towers like so
many masons. Of course, the body of the soldiery had no excuse for
declining the work, when even the king did not consider himself
demeaned by it, and the whole army joined in making the reparations
with great zeal.
But such kind of zeal as this is not often very enduring. The men had
accomplished this work very well at Acre, but now, in undertaking a
second operation of the kind, their ardor was found to be somewhat
subsided. Besides, they were discouraged and disheartened in some
degree by the results of the fruitless campaign they had made into the
interior, and worn down by the fatigues they had endured on their
march. Still, the knights and nobles generally followed Richard's
example, and worked upon the walls to encourage the soldiery. One,
however, absolutely refused; this was Leopold, the Archduke of
Austria, whose flag Richard had pulled down from one of the towers in
Acre, and trampled upon as it lay on the ground. The archduke had
never forgiven this insult.
Indeed, this rudeness on the part of Richard was not a solitary
instance of his enmity. It was only a new step taken in an old
quarrel. Richard and the duke had been on very ill terms before. The
reader will perhaps recollect that when Richard was at Cyprus he made
captive a young princess, the daughter of the king, and that he made a
present of her, as a handmaid and companion, to Queen Berengaria.
Berengaria and Joanna, when they left Cyprus, brought the young
princess with them, and when they were established with the king in
the palace at Acre, she remained with them. She was treated kindly, it
is true, and was made a member of the family, but still she was a
prisoner. Such captives were greatly prized in those days as presents
for ladies of high rank, who kept them as pets, just as they would, at
the present day, a beautiful Canary bird or a favorite pony. They
often made intimate and familiar companions of them, and dressed them
with great elegance, and surrounded them with every luxury. Still,
notwithstanding this gilding of their chains, the poor captives
usually pined away their lives in sorrow, mourning continually to be
restored to their father and mother, and to their own proper home.
Now it happened that the Archduke of Austria was a relative, by
marriage, of the King of Cyprus, and the princess was his niece;
consequently, when she arrived at the camp before Acre as a captive
in the hands of the queen, as might naturally have been expected, he
took a great interest in her case. He wished to have her released and
restored to her father, and he interceded with Richard in her behalf.
But Richard would not release her. He was not willing to take her away
from Berengaria. The archduke was angry with the king for this
refusal, and a quarrel ensued; and it was partly in consequence of
this quarrel, or, rather, of the exasperation of mind that was
produced by it, that Richard would not allow the archduke's banner to
float from the towers of Acre when the city fell into their hands.
The archduke felt very keenly the indignity which Richard thus offered
him, and though at the time he had no power to revenge it, he
remembered it, and remained long in a gloomy and resentful frame of
mind. And now, while Richard was endeavoring to encourage and
stimulate the soldiers to work on the walls, by inducing the knights
and barons to join him in setting the example, Leopold refused. He
said that he was neither the son of a carpenter nor of a mason, that
he should go to work like a laborer to build walls. Richard was
enraged at this answer, and, as the story goes, flew at Leopold in
his passion, and struck and kicked him. He also immediately turned the
archduke and all his vassals out of the town, declaring that they
should not share the protection of walls that they would not help to
build; so they were obliged to encamp without, in company with that
portion of the army that could not be accommodated within the walls.
But, notwithstanding the bad example set thus by the archduke, far the
greater portion of the knights, and barons, and high officers of the
army joined very heartily in the work of building the walls. Even the
bishops, and abbots, and other monks, as well as the military nobles,
took hold of the work with great zeal, and the repairs went on much
more rapidly than could have been expected. During all this time the
army kept their communications open with the other towns along the
coast--with Jaffa, and Acre, and other strongholds, so that at length
the whole shore was well fortified, and secure in their possession.
Saladin, during all this time, had distributed his troops in various
encampments along the line parallel with the coast, and at some
distance from it, and for some weeks the two armies remained, in a
great degree, quiet in their several positions. The Crusaders were
too much diminished in numbers by the privations and the sickness
which they had undergone, as well as by the losses they had suffered
in battle, and too much weakened by their internal dissensions, to go
out of their strongholds to attack Saladin, while, on the other hand,
they were too well protected by the walls of the towns to which they
had retreated for Saladin to attack them. Both sides were waiting for
re-enforcements. Saladin was indeed continually receiving accessions
to his army from the interior, and Richard was expecting them from
Europe. He sent to a distinguished ecclesiastic, named the Abbot of
Clairvaux, who had a high reputation in Europe, and enjoyed great
influence at many of the principal courts. In his letter to the abbot,
he requested him to visit the different courts, and urge upon the
princes and the people of the different countries the necessity that
they should come to the rescue of the Christian cause in the Holy
Land. Unless they were willing, he said, that all hope of regaining
possession of the Holy Land should be abandoned, they must come with
large re-enforcements, and that, too, without any delay.
During the period of delay occasioned by these circumstances, there
was a sort of truce established between the two armies, and the
knights on each side mingled together frequently on very friendly
terms. Indeed, it was the pride and glory of soldiers in this
chivalrous age to treat each other, when not in actual conflict, in a
very polite and courteous manner, as if they were not animated by any
personal resentment against their enemies, but only by a spirit of
fidelity to the prince who commanded them, or to the cause in which
they were engaged. Accordingly, when, for any reason, the war was for
a time suspended, the combatants became immediately the best friends
in the world, and actually vied with each other to see which should
evince the most generous courtesy toward their opponents.
On the present occasion they often made visits to each other, and they
arranged tournaments and other military celebrations which were
attended by the knights and chieftains on both sides. Richard and
Saladin often sent each other handsome presents. At one time when
Richard was sick, Saladin sent him a quantity of delicious fruit from
Damascus. The Damascus gardens have been renowned in every age for the
peaches, pears, figs, and other fruits which they produce, and
especially for a peculiar plum, famous through all the East. Saladin
sent a supply of this fruit to Richard when he heard that he was sick,
and accompanied his present with very earnest and, perhaps, very
sincere inquiries in respect to the condition of the patient, and
expressions of his wishes for his recovery.
The disposition of the two commanders to live on friendly terms with
each other at this time was increased by the hope which Richard
entertained that he might, by some possibility, come to an amicable
agreement with Saladin in respect to Jerusalem, and thus bring the war
to an end. He was beginning to be thoroughly discontented with his
situation, and with every thing pertaining to the war. Nothing since
the first capture of Acre had really gone well. His army had been
repulsed in its attempt to advance into the interior, and was now
hemmed in by the enemy on every side, and shut up in a few towns on
the sea-coast. The men under his command had been greatly diminished
in numbers, and, though sheltered from the enemy, the force that
remained was gradually wasting away from the effects of exposure to
the climate and from fatigue. There was no prospect of any immediate
re-enforcements arriving from Europe, and no hope, without them, of
being able to take the field successfully against Saladin.
Besides all this, Richard was very uneasy in respect to the state of
affairs in his own dominions, in England and in Normandy. He
distrusted the promises that Philip had made, and was very anxious
lest he might, when he arrived in France, take advantage of Richard's
absence, and, under some pretext or other, invade some of his
provinces. From England he was continually receiving very unfavorable
tidings. His mother Eleanora, to whom he had committed some general
oversight of his interests during his absence, was beginning to write
him alarming letters in respect to certain intrigues which were going
on in England, and which threatened to deprive him of his English
kingdom altogether. She urged him to return as soon as possible.
Richard was exceedingly anxious to comply with this recommendation,
but he could not abandon his army in the condition in which it then
was, nor could he honorably withdraw it without having previously come
to some agreement with Saladin by which the Holy Sepulchre could be
secured to the possession of the Christians.
This being the state of the case, he had every motive for pressing the
negotiations, and for cultivating, while they were in progress, the
most friendly relations possible with Saladin, and for persevering in
pressing them as long as the least possible hope remained.
Accordingly, during all this time Richard treated Saladin with the
greatest courtesy. He sent him many presents, and paid him many polite
attentions. All this display of urbanity toward each other, on the
part of these ferocious and bloodthirsty men, has been actually
attributed by mankind to the instinctive nobleness and generosity of
the spirit of chivalry; but, in reality, as is indeed too often the
case with the pretended nobleness and generosity of rude and violent
men, a cunning and far-seeing selfishness lay at the bottom of it.
In the course of these negotiations, Richard declared to Saladin that
all which the Christians desired was the possession of Jerusalem and
the restoration of the true cross, and he said that surely some terms
could be devised on which Saladin could concede those two points. But
Saladin replied that Jerusalem was as sacred a place in the eyes of
Mussulmans, and as dear to them, as it was to the Christians, and
that they could on no account give it up. In respect to the true
cross, the Christians, he said, if they could obtain it, would worship
it in an idolatrous manner, as they did their other relics; and as the
law of the Prophet in the Koran forbade idolatry, they could not
conscientiously give it up. "By so doing," said he, "we should be
accessories to the sin."
It was in consequence of the insuperable objections which arose
against an absolute surrender of Jerusalem to the Christians that the
negotiations took the turn which led to the proposal of a marriage
between the ex-Queen Joanna and Saphadin; for, when Richard found that
no treaty was possible that would give him full possession of
Jerusalem, and the letters which he received from England made more
and more urgent the necessity that he should return, he conceived the
plan of a sort of joint occupancy of the Holy City by Mussulmans and
Christians together. This was to be effected by means of the proposed
marriage. The marriage was to be the token and pledge of a
surrendering, on both sides, of the bitter fanaticism which had
hitherto animated them, and of their determination henceforth to live
in peace, notwithstanding their religious differences. If this state
of feeling could be once established, there would be no difficulty, it
was thought, in arranging some sort of mixed government for Jerusalem
that would secure access to the holy places by both Mussulmans and
Christians, and accomplish the ends of the war to the satisfaction of
all.
It was said that Richard proposed this plan, and that both Saladin and
Saphadin evinced a willingness to accede to it, but that it was
defeated by the influence of the priests on both sides. The imams
among the Mussulmans, and the bishops and monks in Richard's army,
were equally shocked at this plan of making a "compromise of
principle," as they considered it, and forming a compact between evil
and good. The men of each party devoutly believed that the cause which
their side espoused was the cause of God, and that that of the other
was the cause of Satan, and neither could tolerate for a moment any
proposal for a union, or an alliance of any kind, between elements so
utterly antagonistical. And it was in vain, as both commanders knew
full well, to attempt to carry such an arrangement into effect against
the conviction of the priests; for they had, on both sides, so great
an influence over the masses of the people that, without their
approval, or at least their acquiescence, nothing could be done.
So the plan of an alliance and union between the Christians and the
Mohammedans, with a view to a joint occupancy and guardianship of the
holy places in Jerusalem was finally abandoned, and Joanna gave up the
hope, or was released from the fear, as the case may have been, of
having a Saracen for a husband.