IN THE HANDS OF THE SARACENS.
The English had hoped that after one pitched battle they should be able
to advance upon Jerusalem, but they had reckoned without the climate and
illness.
Although unconquered in the fray, the Christian army was weakened by its
sufferings to such an extent that it was virtually brought to a
standstill. Even King Richard, with all his impetuosity, dared not
venture to cut adrift from the seashore and to march direct upon
Jerusalem; that city was certainly not to be taken without a long siege,
and this could only be undertaken by an army strong enough, not only to
carry out so great a task, but to meet and defeat the armies which
Saladin would bring up to the rescue, and to keep open the line down to
Joppa, by which alone provisions and the engines necessary for the siege
could be brought up. Hence the war resolved itself into a series of
expeditions and detached fights.
The British camp was thoroughly fortified, and thence parties of the
knights sallied out and engaged in conflicts with the Saracens, with
varying success. On several of these expeditions Cuthbert attended the
earl, and behaved with a bravery which showed him well worthy of the
honors which he had received.
Upon one occasion the news reached camp that a party of knights, who had
gone out to guard a number of footmen cutting forage and bringing it
into camp, had been surrounded and had taken refuge in a small town,
whose gates they had battered in when they saw the approach of an
overwhelming host of the enemy. King Richard himself headed a strong
force and advanced to their assistance. Their approach was not seen
until within a short distance of the enemy, upon whom the Crusaders fell
with the force of a thunderbolt, and cleft their way through their
lines. After a short pause in the little town they prepared to again cut
their way through, joined by the party who had there been besieged. The
task was now, however, far more difficult; for the footmen would be
unable to keep up with the rapid charge of the knights, and it was
necessary not only to clear the way, but to keep it open for their exit.
King Richard himself and the greater portion of his knights were to lead
the charge; another party were to follow behind the footmen, who were
ordered to advance at the greatest speed of which they were capable,
while their rearguard by charges upon the enemy kept them at bay. To
this latter party Cuthbert was attached.
The Saracens followed their usual tactics, and this time with great
success. Dividing as the king with his knights charged them, they
suffered these to pass through with but slight resistance, and then
closed in upon their track, while another and still more numerous body
fell upon the footmen and their guard. Again and again did the knights
charge through the ranks of the Moslems, while the billmen stoutly kept
together and resisted the onslaughts of the enemy's cavalry. In spite of
their bravery, however, the storm of arrows shot by the desert horsemen
thinned their ranks with terrible rapidity. Charging up to the very
point of the spears, these wild horsemen fired their arrows into the
faces of their foe, and although numbers of them fell beneath the more
formidable missiles sent by the English archers, their numbers were so
overwhelming that the little band melted away. The small party of
knights, too, were rapidly thinned, although performing prodigious deeds
of valor. The Saracens when dismounted or wounded still fought on foot,
their object being always to stab or hough the horses, and so dismount
the riders. King Richard and his force, though making the most desperate
efforts to return to the assistance of the rearguard, were baffled by
the sturdy resistance of the Saracens, and the position of those in the
rear was fast becoming hopeless.
One by one the gallant little band of knights fell, and a sea of turbans
closed over the fluttering plumes. Cuthbert, after defending himself
with extreme bravery for a long time, was at last separated from the
small remainder of his comrades by a rush of the enemy's horse, and when
fighting desperately he received a heavy blow at the back of the head
from the mace of a huge Nubian soldier, and fell senseless to the
ground.
When he recovered his consciousness the first impression upon his mind
was the stillness which had succeeded to the din of battle; the shouts
and war-cries of the Crusaders, the wild yells of the Moslems were
hushed, and in their place was a quiet chatter in many unknown tongues,
and the sound of laughter and feasting. Raising his head and looking
round, Cuthbert saw that he and some ten of his comrades were lying
together in the midst of a Saracen camp, and that he was a prisoner to
the infidels. The sun streamed down with tremendous force upon them;
there was no shelter; and though all were wounded and parched with
thirst, the Saracens of whom they besought water, pointing to their
mouths and making signs of their extreme thirst, laughed in their faces,
and signified by a gesture that it was scarcely worth the trouble to
drink when they were likely so soon to be put to death.
It was late in the afternoon before any change was manifest. Then
Cuthbert observed a stir in the camp; the men ran to their horses,
leaped on their backs, and with wild cries of "Welcome!" started off at
full speed. Evidently some personage was about to arrive, and the fate
of the prisoners would be solved. A few words were from time to time
exchanged between these, each urging the other to keep up his heart and
defy the infidel. One or two had succumbed to their wounds during the
afternoon, and only six were able to stand erect when summoned to do so
by some of their guard, who made signs to them that a great personage
was coming. Soon the shouts of the horsemen and other sounds announced
that the great chief was near at hand, and the captives gathered from
the swelling shouts of the Arabs that the new arrival was Sultan
Suleiman--or Saladin, for he was called by both names--surrounded by a
bodyguard of splendidly-dressed attendants. The emir, who was himself
plainly attired, reined up his horse in front of the captives.
"You are English," he said, in the _lingua-franca_, which was the medium
of communication between the Eastern and Western peoples in those days.
"You are brave warriors, and I hear that before you were taken you
slaughtered numbers of my people. They did wrong to capture you and
bring you here to be killed. Your cruel king gives no mercy to those who
fall into his hands. You must not expect it here, you who without a
pretense of right invade my country, slaughter my people, and defeat my
armies. The murder of the prisoners of Acre has closed my heart to all
mercy. There, your king put ten thousand prisoners to death in cold
blood, a month after the capture of the place, because the money at
which he had placed their ransom had not arrived. We Arabs do not carry
huge masses of gold about with us; and although I could have had it
brought from Egypt, I did not think that so brave a monarch as Richard
of England could have committed so cruel an action in cold blood. When
we are fresh from battle, and our wounds are warm, and our hearts are
full of rage and fury, we kill our prisoners; but to do so weeks after a
battle is contrary to the laws alike of your religion and of ours.
However, it is King Richard who has sealed your doom, not I. You are
knights, and I do not insult you with the offer of turning from your
religion and joining me. Should one of you wish to save his life on
these conditions, I will, however, promise him a place of position and
authority among us."
None of the knights moved to accept the offer, but each, as the eye of
the emir ran along the line, answered with an imprecation of contempt
and hatred. Saladin waved his hand, and one by one the captives were led
aside, walking as proudly to their doom as if they had been going to a
feast. Each wrung the hand of the one next to him as he turned, and then
without a word followed his captors. There was a dull sound heard, and
one by one the heads of the knights rolled in the sand.
Cuthbert happened to be last in the line, and as the executioners laid
hands upon him and removed his helmet, the eye of the sultan fell upon
him, and he almost started at perceiving the extreme youth of his
captive. He held his hand aloft to arrest the movements of the
executioners, and signaled for Cuthbert to be brought before him again.
"You are but a boy," he said. "All the knights who have hitherto fallen
into my hands have been men of strength and power; how is it that I see
a mere youth among their ranks, and wearing the golden spurs of
knighthood?"
"King Richard himself made me a knight," Cuthbert said proudly, "after
having stood across him when his steed had been foully stabbed at the
battle of Azotus, and the whole Moslem host were around him."
"Ah!" said the emir, "were you one of the two who, as I have heard,
defended the king for some time against all assaults? It were hard
indeed to kill so brave a youth. I doubt me not that at present you are
as firmly determined to die a Christian knight as those who have gone
before you? But time may change you. At any rate for the present your
doom is postponed."
He turned to a gorgeously dressed noble next to him, and said:
"Your brother, Ben Abin, is Governor of Jerusalem, and the gardens of
the palace are fair. Take this youth to him as a present, and set him to
work in his gardens. His life I have spared, in all else Ben Abin will
be his master."
Cuthbert heard without emotion the words which changed his fate from
death to slavery. Many, he knew, who were captured in these wars were
carried away as slaves to different parts of Asia, and it did not seem
to him that the change was in any way a boon. However, life is dear, and
it was but natural that a thought should leap into his heart that soon
either the Crusaders might force a way into Jerusalem and there rescue
him, or that he himself might in some way escape.
The sultan having thus concluded the subject, turned away, and galloped
off surrounded by his bodyguard.
Those who had captured the Christians now stripped off the armor of
Cuthbert; then he was mounted on a barebacked steed, and with four
Bedouins, with their long lances, riding beside him, started for
Jerusalem. After a day of long and rapid riding the Arabs stopped
suddenly on the crest of a hill, with a shout of joy, and throwing
themselves from their horses bent with their foreheads to the earth at
the sight of their holy city.
Cuthbert, as he gazed at the stately walls of Jerusalem, and the noble
buildings within, felt bitterly that it was not thus that he had hoped
to see the holy city. He had dreamed of arriving before it with his
comrades, proud and delighted at their success so far, and confident in
their power soon to wrest the town before them from the hands of the
Moslems. Instead of this he was a slave--a slave to the infidel, perhaps
never more to see a white face, save that of some other unfortunate like
himself.
Even now in its fallen state no city is so impressive at first sight as
Jerusalem; the walls, magnificent in height and strength, and
picturesque in their deep embattlements, rising on the edge of a deep
valley. Every building has its name and history. Here is the church
built by the first Crusaders; there the mighty mosque of Suleiman on the
site of the Temple; far away on a projecting ridge the great building
known as the Tomb of Moses; on the right beyond the houses rise the
towers on the Roman walls; the Pool of Bethsaida lies in the hollow; in
the center are the cupolas of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Among
all the fairest cities of the world, there are none which can compare in
stately beauty with Jerusalem. Doubtless it was a fairer city in those
days, for long centuries of Turkish possession have reduced many of the
former stately palaces to ruins. Then, as now, the banner of the Prophet
floated over the high places; but whereas at present the population is
poor and squalid, the city in those days contained a far larger number
of inhabitants, irrespective of the great garrison collected for its
defense.
The place from which Cuthbert had his first sight of Jerusalem is that
from which the best view is to be obtained--the crest of the Mount of
Olives. After a minute or two spent in looking at the city the Arabs
with a shout continued their way down into the valley. Crossing this
they ascended the steep road to the walls, brandishing their lances and
giving yells of triumph; then riding two upon each side of their
prisoner, to protect him from any fanatic who might lay a hand upon him,
they passed under the gate known as the Gate of Suleiman into the city.
The populace thronged the streets; and the news brought by the horsemen
that a considerable portion of the Christian host had been defeated and
slain passed from mouth to mouth, and was received with yells of
exultation. Execrations were heaped upon Cuthbert, who rode along with
an air as quiet and composed as if he were the center of an ovation
instead of that of an outburst of hatred.
He would, indeed, speedily have been torn from his guards, had not these
shouted that he was placed in their hands by Saladin himself for conduct
to the governor. As the emir was as sharp and as ruthless with his own
people as with the prisoners who fell into his hands, the name acted as
a talisman, and Cuthbert and his escort rode forward without molestation
until they reached the entrance to the palace.
Dismounting, Cuthbert was now led before the governor himself, a stern
and grave-looking man, sitting cross-legged on a divan surrounded by
officers and attendants. He heard in silence the account given him by
the escort, bowed his head at the commands of Suleiman, and, without
addressing a word to Cuthbert, indicated to two attendants that he was
to be removed into the interior of the house. Here the young knight was
led to a small dungeon-like room; bread and dates with a cruse of water,
were placed before him; the door was then closed and locked without, and
he found himself alone with his thoughts.
No one came near him that night, and he slept as soundly as he would
have done in his tent in the midst of the Christian host. He was
resolved to give no cause for ill-treatment or complaint to his captors,
to work as willingly, as cheerfully, as was in his power, and to seize
the first opportunity to make his escape, regardless of any risk of his
life which he might incur in doing so.
In the morning the door opened, and a black slave led him into the
garden, which was surrounded by a very high and lofty wall. It was
large, and full of trees and flowers, and far more beautiful than any
garden that Cuthbert had seen in his native land. There were various
other slaves at work; and an Arab, who appeared to be the head of the
gardeners, at once appointed to Cuthbert the work assigned to him. A
guard of Arabs with bow and spear watched the doings of the slaves.
With one glance round, Cuthbert was assured that escape from this
garden, at least, was not to be thought of, and that for the present
patience alone was possible. Dismissing all ideas of that kind from his
mind, he set to work with a steady attention to his task. He was very
fond of flowers, and soon he became so absorbed in his work as almost to
forget that he was a slave. It was not laborious--digging, planting,
pruning and training the flowers, and giving them copious draughts of
water from a large fountain in the center of the garden.
The slaves were not permitted to exchange a word with each other. At the
end of the day's work they were marched off to separate chambers, or,
as they might be called, dungeons. Their food consisted of water, dried
dates, and bread, and they had little to complain of in this respect;
indeed, the slaves in the gardens of the governor's house at Jerusalem
enjoyed an exceptionally favored existence. The governor himself was
absorbed in the cares of the city. The head gardener happened to be a
man of unusual humanity, and it was really in his hands that the comfort
of the prisoners was placed.
Sometimes in the course of the day veiled ladies would issue in groups
from the palace, attended by black slaves with drawn scimiters. They
passed without unveiling across the point where the slaves were at work,
and all were forbidden on pain of death to look up, or even to approach
the konak or pavilion, where the ladies threw aside their veils, and
enjoyed the scent and sight of the flowers, the splash of murmuring
waters, and the strains of music touched by skillful hands.
Although Cuthbert wondered in his heart what these strange wrapped-up
figures might look like when the veils were thrown back, he certainly
did not care enough about the matter to run any risk of drawing the
anger of his guards upon himself by raising his eyes toward them; nor
did he ever glance up at the palace, which was also interdicted to the
slaves. From the lattice casements during the day the strains of music
and merry laughter often came down to the captives; but this, if
anything, only added to the bitterness of their position, by reminding
them that they were shut off for life from ever hearing the laughter of
the loved ones they had left behind.
For upward of a month Cuthbert remained steadily at work, and during
that time no possible plan of escape had occurred to him, and he had
indeed resigned himself to wait, either until, as he hoped, the city
would be taken by the Christians, or until he himself might be removed
from his present post and sent into the country, where, although his lot
would doubtless be far harder, some chance of escape might open before
him.
One night, long after slumber had fallen upon the city, Cuthbert was
startled by hearing his door open. Rising to his feet, he saw a black
slave, and an old woman beside him. The latter spoke first in the
_lingua-franca_:
"My mistress, the wife of the governor, has sent me to ask your story.
How is it that, although but a youth, you are already a knight? How is
it that you come to be a slave to our people? The sultan himself sent
you to her lord. She would fain hear through me how it has happened. She
is the kindest of ladies, and the sight of your youth has touched her
heart."
With thanks to the unknown lady who had felt an interest in him,
Cuthbert briefly related the events which had led to his captivity. The
old woman placed on the ground a basket containing some choice fruit and
white bread, and then departed with the negro as quietly as she had
come, leaving Cuthbert greatly pleased at what had taken place.
"Doubtless," he said to himself, "I shall hear again; and it may be that
through the pity of this lady some means of escape may open to me."
Although for some little time no such prospect appeared, yet the visits
of the old woman, which were frequently repeated, were of interest to
him, and seemed to form a link between him and the world.
After coming regularly every night for a week she bade the young knight
follow her, holding her finger to her lips in sign that caution must be
observed. Passing through several passages, he was at length led into a
room where a lady of some forty years of age, surrounded by several
slaves and younger women, was sitting. Cuthbert felt no scruple in
making a deep obeisance to her; the respect shown to women in the days
of chivalry was very great, and Cuthbert, in bowing almost to the ground
before the lady who was really his mistress, did not feel that he was
humiliating himself.
"Young slave," she said, "your story has interested us. We have
frequently watched from the windows, and have seen how willingly and
patiently you have worked; and it seems strange indeed that one so young
should have performed such feats of bravery as to win the honor of
knighthood from the hand of that greatest of warriors, Richard of
England. What is it, we would fain learn from your lips, that stirs up
the heart of the Christian world that they should launch their armies
against us, who wish but to be left alone, and who have no grudge
against them? This city is as holy to us as it is to you; and as we
live around it, and all the country for thousands of miles is ours, is
it likely that we should allow it to be wrested from us by strangers
from a distance?"
This was spoken in some Eastern language of which Cuthbert understood no
word, but its purport was translated to him by the old woman who had
hitherto acted as his mistress' messenger.
Cuthbert reported the circumstances of the fight at Azotus, and
endeavored to explain the feelings which had given rise to the Crusade.
He then, at the orders of the lady, related the incidents of his voyage
out, and something of his life at home, which was more interesting even
than the tale of his adventures to his hearers, as to them the home-life
of these fierce Christian warriors was entirely unknown.
After an audience of two hours Cuthbert was conducted back to his cell,
his mistress assuring him of her good-will, and promising to do all in
her power to make his captivity as light as possible.