AN ALPINE STORM.
The tremendous exertions which King Richard had made told upon him, and
attacks of fever succeeded each other at short intervals. This, however,
mattered the less, since negotiations were now proceeding between him
and Saladin. It was impossible, with the slight means at his disposal,
for Richard further to carry on the Crusade alone. Moreover, pressing
news had arrived from his mother in England, urging him to return, as
his brother John was intriguing against him, and had already assumed all
but the kingly title. Saladin was equally desirous of peace. His wild
troops were, for the most part, eager to return to their homes, and the
defeats which they had suffered, and the, to them, miraculous power of
King Richard's arm, had lowered their spirit and made them eager to be
away. Therefore he consented without difficulty to the terms proposed.
By these, the Christians were to surrender Ascalon, but were to keep
Jaffa, Tyre, and the fortresses along the coast. All hostilities were to
be suspended on both sides for the space of three years, three months,
three weeks, three days, and three hours, when Richard hoped to return
again and to recommence the struggle.
Between the sultan and King Richard a feeling approaching that of
friendship had sprung up during the campaign. Saladin was himself brave
in the extreme, and exposed his life as fearlessly as did his Christian
rival, and the two valiant leaders recognized the great qualities of
each other. Several times during the campaign when Richard had been ill,
the emir had sent him presents of fruit and other matters, to which
Richard had responded in the same spirit. An interview had taken place
between them which further cemented their friendship; and when Richard
promised to return again at the end of the truce with a far larger army,
and to accomplish the rescue of the holy city, the sultan smiled, and
said that it appeared that valor alone was not sufficient to conquer in
the Holy Land, but that if Jerusalem were to fall into the hands of the
Christians, it could fall into no worthier hands than those of
Malek-Rik.
So, with many mutual courtesies, the great rivals separated, and soon
after King Richard and the little remnant of his army embarked on board
ship, and set sail for England.
It was on October 11, 1192, that Richard Coeur de Lion left Palestine.
Soon after they started a storm suddenly burst upon them, and dispersed
them in various directions. The ship in which Queen Berengaria was
carried arrived safely in Sicily; but that in which King Richard was
borne was missing, and none of his fellow-voyagers knew what had become
of him. Sir Cuthbert was in the same vessel as the king, and the bark
was driven upon the Island of Corfu. All reached shore in safety, and
King Richard then hired three small vessels, in which he sailed to the
port of Zara, whence he hoped to reach the domains of his nephew, Otho
of Saxony, the son of his sister Matilda. The king had with him now but
two of his knights, Baldwin of Béthune, and Cuthbert of Evesham. Cnut
was with his feudal chief--for such Cuthbert had now, by his accession
to the rank of Earl of Evesham, become--and three or four English
archers.
"I fear, my lords," the king said to his knights as he sat in a little
room in an inn at Zara, "that my plight is a bad one. I am surrounded by
enemies, and, alas! I can no longer mount my steed and ride out as at
Jaffa to do battle with them. My brother, John Lackland, is scheming to
take my place upon the throne of England. Philip of France, whose mind
is far better at such matters than at setting armies in the field, is in
league with him. The Emperor Henry has laid claim to the throne of
Sicily. Leopold of Austria has not forgiven me the blow I struck him in
the face at Ascalon, and the friends of Conrad of Montferat are
spreading far and wide the lie that I was the instigator of his murder.
Sure never had a poor king so many enemies, and few have ever had so
small a following as I have now. What think you, my lords? What course
would you advise that I should adopt? If I can reach Saxony doubtless
Otho will aid me. But hence to Dresden is a long journey indeed. I have
neither credit nor funds to hire a ship to take us by sea. Nor would
such a voyage be a safe one, when so many of my enemies' ships are on
the main. I must needs, I think, go in disguise, for my way lies wholly
through the country of my enemies."
"Surely," Cuthbert said, "no potentate could for very shame venture to
detain your majesty on your way from the Holy Land, where you have
wrought such great deeds. Were I in your place, I would at once proclaim
myself, mount my horse, have my banner carried before me, and ride
openly on. You have, too, another claim, namely, that of being
shipwrecked, and even in war-time nations respect those whom the force
of God has thrown upon their shores."
"I fear me, Sir Cuthbert," Sir Baldwin said, "that you overrate the
chivalry of our master's enemies. Had we been thrown on the shores of
France, Philip perhaps would hesitate to lay hands upon the king; but
these petty German princelings have no idea of the observances of true
chivalry. They are coarse and brutal in their ways; and though in
outward form following the usage of knighthood, they have never been
penetrated with its spirit. If the friends of Conrad of Montferat lay
hands upon King Richard I fear that no scruples will prevent them from
using their advantage to the utmost. Even their emperor I would not
trust. The course which you advise would no doubt be in accordance with
the spirit of King Richard; but it would be madness for him to judge
other people's spirit by his own, and it would be rushing into the
lion's den to proclaim himself here. I should recommend, if I might
venture to do so, that his majesty should assume a false name, and that
we should travel in small parties so as to attract no attention, each
making his way to Saxony as best he may."
There was silence for a minute or two, and then the king with a sigh
said:
"I fear that you are right, Sir Baldwin, and that there is no chivalry
among these swinish German lords. You shall accompany me. Not, Sir
Cuthbert," he observed kindly, noticing a look of disappointment upon
the face of the young knight, "that I estimate your fidelity one whit
lower than that of my brave friend; but he is the elder and the more
versed in European travel, and may manage to bring matters through
better than you would do. You will have dangers enough to encounter
yourself, more even than I shall, for your brave follower, Cnut, can
speak no language but his own, and your archers will be hard to pass as
any other than what they are. You must be my messenger to England,
should you arrive there without me. Tell my mother and wife where you
left me, and that, if I do not come home I have fallen into the hands
of one or other of my bitter foes. Bid them bestir themselves to hold
England for me against my brother John, and, if needs be, to move the
sovereigns of Europe to free me from the hands of my enemies. Should a
ransom be needed, I think that my people of England will not grudge
their goods for their king."
The following day the king bade farewell to his faithful followers,
giving his hand to kiss, not only to Sir Cuthbert, but to Cnut and his
archers.
"You have done me brave service," he said, "and I trust may yet have
occasion to do it again. These are bad times when Richard of England has
naught wherewith to reward his friends. But," he said, taking a gold
chain from his neck and breaking it with his strong fingers into five
fragments, "that is for you, Cnut, and for your four archers, in
remembrance of King Richard."
The men, albeit hardened by many scenes of warfare, yet shed tears
plenteously at parting with the king.
"We had better," Cuthbert said to them when they were alone, "delay here
for a few days. If we are taken, the news that some Englishmen have been
captured making their way north from Zara will spread rapidly, and may
cause the enemies of Richard to be on the lookout for him, suspecting
that the ship which bore us may also have carried him; for the news that
he is missing will spread rapidly through Europe, and will set all his
enemies on the alert."
In accordance with this plan they delayed for another ten days at Zara,
and then, hiring a small boat, were landed some thirty miles further
along the coast. Cuthbert had obtained for Cnut the dress of a palmer,
as in this he would pass almost unquestioned, and his silence might be
accounted for on the ground that he had taken a vow of silence. He
himself had placed on his coat armor a red cross, instead of the white
cross borne by the English knights, and would now pass as a French
knight. Similar changes were made in the dress of his followers, and he
determined to pass as a French noble who had been wrecked on his way
home, and who was returning through Germany to France. The difficulties
in his own case would not be serious, as his French would pass muster
anywhere in Germany. The greatest difficulty would be with his
attendants; but he saw no way of avoiding this.
Cuthbert's object, when with his little party he separated from King
Richard, was to make his way to Verona, thence cross by Trent into
Bavaria, and so to journey to Saxony. Fortunately he had at the storming
of Acre become possessed of a valuable jewel, and this he now sold, and
purchased a charger for himself. He had little fear of any trouble in
passing through the north of Italy, for this was neutral ground, where
knights of all nations met, and where, neither as an English nor a
French Crusader, would he attract either comment or attention.
It was a slow journey across the northern plains, as of course he had to
accommodate his pace to that of his men. Cnut and the archers had
grumbled much at the change of the color of the cross upon their
jerkins; and, as Cnut said, would have been willing to run greater
perils under their true colors than to affect to belong to any other
nationality. On their way they passed through Padua, and there stopped a
few days. Cuthbert could but feel, in looking at the splendor of this
Italian city, the courteous manner of its people, and the university,
which was even then famous, how far in advance were those stately cities
of Italy to Western Europe. His followers were as much surprised as
himself at the splendors of the city. Here they experienced no trouble
or annoyance whatever, for to the cities of Italy knights of all
nations resorted, learned men came to study, philosophers to dispute,
and as these brought their attendants with them, you might in the
streets of Padua and its sister cities hear every language in Europe
spoken.
From Padua they journeyed to Verona, marveling greatly at the richness
of the country. The footmen, however, grumbled at the flatness of the
plain, and said that it was as bad as marching in the Holy Land. On
their right, however, the slopes of the Alps, thickly clad with forests,
reached down nearly to the road, and Cuthbert assured them that they
would have plenty of climbing before they had done. At Verona they
tarried again, and wondered much at the great amphitheater, then almost
perfect. Cuthbert related to Cnut and the archers how men had there been
set to fight while the great stone benches round were thronged with men
and women looking on at their death struggles, and said that not
unfrequently British captives were brought hither and made to contend in
the arena. The honest fellows were full of indignation and horror at the
thought of men killing themselves to give sport to others. They were
used to hard knocks, and thought but little of their life, and would
have betaken themselves to their bows and bills without hesitation in
case of a quarrel. But to fight in cold blood for amusement seemed to
them very terrible.
Cuthbert would then have traveled on to Milan, at that time next to Rome
the richest city in Europe, but he longed to be back in England, and was
the more anxious as he knew that King Richard would be passing through
great dangers, and he hoped to meet him at the court of Saxony. His
money, too, was fast running out, and he found that it would be beyond
his slender means to extend his journey so far. At Verona, then, they
turned their back on the broad plains of Lombardy, and entered the
valley of the Trent.
So far no observation whatever had been excited by the passage of the
English knight. So many Crusaders were upon their way home, many in
grievous plight, that the somewhat shabby retinue passed unnoticed. But
they were now leaving Italy, and entering a country where German was
spoken. Trent, in those days an important city, was then, and is still,
the meeting place of Italy and Germany. Both tongues are here spoken;
but while the Italian perhaps preponderates, the customs, manners, and
mode of thought of the people belong to those of the mountaineers of the
Tyrol rather than of the dwellers on the plains.
"You are choosing a stormy time," the landlord of the hostelry where
they put up said to Cuthbert. "The winter is now at hand, and storms
sweep across the passes with terrible violence. You had better, at the
last village you come to in the valley, obtain the services of a guide,
for should a snowstorm come on when you are crossing, the path will be
lost, and nothing will remain but a miserable death. By daylight the
road is good. It has been cut with much trouble, and loaded mules can
pass over without difficulty. Poles have been erected at short distances
to mark the way when the snow covers it. But when the snowstorms sweep
across the mountains it is impossible to see ten paces before you, and
if the traveler leaves the path he is lost."
"But I suppose," Cuthbert said, "that even in winter travelers pass
over?"
"They do," the host said. "The road is as open in winter as in summer,
although, of course, the dangers are greater. Still, there is nothing to
prevent vigorous men from crossing over when the storms come on. Now,
too, with the snow already lying in the upper forests, the wolves are
abroad, and should you be attacked by one of those herds, you will find
it hard work to defend your lives. Much has been done to render the
road safe. At the distance of every league stone houses have been
erected, where travelers can find shelter either from the storm or from
the attacks of wolves or bears, for these, too, abound in the forests,
and in summer there is fine hunting among them. You are, as I see,
returning from the Holy Land, an are therefore used to heat rather than
cold, so I should advise you before you leave this city to buy some
rough cloaks to shield you from the cold. You can obtain them for your
followers very cheaply, made of the mountain goat or of sheepskins, and
even those of bearskin well dressed are by no means dear."
Obtaining the address of a merchant who kept these things, Cuthbert
proceeded thither; and purchased five cloaks of goatskin with hoods to
pull over their heads for his followers while for himself he obtained
one of rather finer material.
Another two days' journey brought them to the foot of the steep ascent,
and here they hired the services of a guide. The ascent was long and
difficult, and in spite of the praises which the host had bestowed upon
the road, it was so steep that Cuthbert was, for the most part, obliged
to walk, leading his steed, whose feet slipped on the smooth rock, and
as in many places a false step would have thrown them down many hundreds
of feet into the valley below, Cuthbert judged it safer to trust himself
to his own feet. He disincumbered himself of his helmet and gorget, and
placed these upon the horse's back. At nightfall they had attained a
very considerable height, and stopped at one of the small refuges of
which the landlord had spoken.
"I like not the look of the weather," the guide said in the morning--at
least that was what Cuthbert judged him to say, for he could speak no
word of the man's language. His actions, however, as he looked toward
the sky, and shook his head, spoke for themselves, and Cuthbert, feeling
his own powerlessness in a situation so novel to him, felt serious
misgivings at the prospect.
The scenery was now very wild. On all sides crags and mountain tops
covered with snow glistened in the sun. The woods near the path were
free of snow; but higher up they rose black above the white ground. The
wind blew keenly, and all rejoiced in the warm cloaks which they had
obtained; for even with the protection of these they had found the cold
bitter during the night.
"I like not this country," Cnut said. "We grumbled at the heat of
Palestine, but I had rather march across the sand there than in this
inhospitable frozen region. The woods look as if they might contain
specters. There is a silence which seems to be unnatural, and my
courage, like the warmth of my body, is methinks oozing out from my
fingers."
Cuthbert laughed.
"I have no doubt that your courage would come again much quicker than
the warmth, Cnut, if there were any occasion for it. A brisk walk will
set you all right again, and banish these uneasy fancies. To-night we
shall be at the highest point, and to-morrow begin to descend toward
Germany."
All day the men kept steadily on. The guide from time to time looked
apprehensively at the sky; and although in the earlier part of the day
Cuthbert's inexperienced eye saw nothing to cause the slightest
uneasiness, toward the afternoon the scene changed. Light clouds began
to gather on the top of all the hills and to shut the mountain peaks
entirely from view. The wind moaned between the gorges and occasionally
swept along in such sudden gusts that they could with difficulty retain
their feet. The sky became gradually overcast, and frequently light
specks of snow, so small as to be scarcely perceptible, were driven
along on the blast, making their faces smart by the force with which
they struck them.
"It scarcely needs our guide's face," Cuthbert said, "to tell us that a
storm is at hand, and that our position is a dangerous one. As for me, I
own that I feel better pleased now that the wind is blowing, and the
silence is broken, than at the dead stillness which prevailed this
morning. After all, methinks that a snowstorm cannot be more dreaded
than a sandstorm, and we have faced those before now."
Faster and faster the snow came down, until at last the whole air seemed
full of it, and it was with difficulty that they could stagger forward.
Where the path led across open places the wind swept away the snow as
fast as it fell, but in the hollows the track was already covered; and
feeling the difficulty of facing the blinding gale, Cuthbert now
understood the urgency with which his host had insisted upon the danger
of losing the track. Not a word was spoken among the party as they
plodded along. The guide kept ahead, using the greatest caution wherever
the path was obliterated by the snow, sometimes even sounding with his
iron-shod staff to be sure that they were upon the level rock. In spite
of his warm cloak Cuthbert felt that he was becoming chilled to the
bone. His horse could with difficulty keep his feet; and Cnut and the
archers lagged behind.
"You must keep together, lads," he shouted. "I have heard that in these
mountains when sleepiness overpowers the traveler, death is at hand.
Therefore, come what may, we must struggle on."
Many times the gale was so violent that they were obliged to pause and
take shelter under the side of a rock or precipice until the fury of the
blast had passed; and Cuthbert eagerly looked out for the next refuge.
At last they reached it, and the guide at once entered. It was not that
in which he had intended to pass the night, for this lay still higher;
but it would have been madness to attempt to go further in the face of
such a gale. He signed to Cuthbert that it was necessary at once to
collect firewood, and he himself proceeded to light some brands which
had been left by previous travelers. Cuthbert gave directions to Cnut
and the archers; and these, feeling that life depended upon a good fire
being kept up, set to with a will, cutting down shrubs and branches
growing in the vicinity of the hut. In half an hour a huge fire blazed
in the refuge; and as the warmth thawed their limbs, their tongues were
unloosened, and a feeling of comfort again prevailed.
"If this be mountaineering, my lord," Cnut said, "I trust that never
again may it be my fortune to venture among the hills. How long, I
wonder, do the storms last here? I was grumbling all the way up the hill
at the load of provisions which the guide insisted that each of us
should bring with him. As it was to be but a three days' journey before
we reached a village on the other side, I wondered why he insisted upon
our taking food enough to last us at least for a week. But I understand
now, and thank him for his foresight; for if this storm goes on we are
assuredly prisoners here for so long as it may continue."
The horse had to be brought into the hut, for it would have been death
for it to have remained outside.
"What is that?" Cnut said presently, as a distant howl was heard between
the lulls of the storm. The guide muttered some word which Cuthbert did
not understand. But he said to Cnut, "I doubt not that it is wolves.
Thank God that we are safe within this refuge, for here not even the
most ravenous beasts could make their way."
"Pooh!" Cnut said contemptuously. "Wolves are no bigger than dogs. I
have heard my grandfather say that he shot one in the forest, and that
it was no bigger than a hound. We should make short work of them."
"I know not," Cuthbert said. "I have heard tales of these animals which
show that they must be formidable opponents. They hunt in great packs,
and are so furious that they will attack parties of travelers; many of
these have perished miserably, horses and men, and nothing but their
swords and portions of their saddles have remained to tell where the
battle was fought."