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BOY CRUSADERS:
A Story of the Days of Pouig IX.

BY
J. G. EDGAR,

AUTHOR OF ‘THE BOY PRINCES,’ ETC.

Gight Full Page Illustrations.

ae ah

 
PREFACH.

; aioe the many adventurous enterprises which

rendered the age of feudalism and chain-armour
memorable in history, none were more remarkable or
important than the ‘armed pilgrimages’ popularly known
as the Crusades; and, among the expeditions which the
warriors of medieval Europe undertook with the view of
rescuing the Holy Sepulchre from the Saracens, hardly
one is so interesting as that which had Louis IX. for its .
chief and Joinville for its chronicler.

In this volume I have related the adventures of two
striplings, who, after serving their apprenticeship to
chivalry in a feudal castle in the north of England, —
assumed the cross, embarked for the East, took part in
the crusade headed by the saint-King of France, and
participated in the glory and disaster which attended the
Christian army, after landing at Damietta—including
the carnage of Mansourah, and the massacre of Minieh.

In writing the ‘Boy Crusaders’ for juvenile readers,
my object has been—while endeavouring to give those,
for whose perusal the work is intended, as faithful a
picture as possible of the events which Joinville has |
recorded—to convey, at the same time, as clear an idea
as my limits would permit, of the career and character
of the renowned French monarch who, in peril and per-
plexity; in captivity and chains, so eminently signalised

his valour and his piety. IGE
CONTENTS.

teens ED At en A, gece

CHAPTER PAGE
I. A Frupan CasthE K : ; J
It. THe BrRotuHers In-ARMS 14
III. THe HERS oF tHE Es: Ecs . 21
IV. Sr. Louis —_. : : - : 28 .
V. TAKING THE CRoss baa an : 36
VI. EMBARKING FOR THE East 4}
VII. THE ARMED PILGRims ar CyPRUS 45
Vill. Kastwamp <2. 49
IX. An ApvENTURE . =. . 55
X. On THE LaDpER oF Lirkt 60
XI. THE VoyvaGE 68
XII. At DAMIETTA 74
XIII. INcursions | 82
XIV. A RENEGADE : 88
XV. CAPTURE CF A CARAVAN 96
XVI. A CouNciIL oF WAR 103
XVII. Fack To Facr 169 ©
XVIII. DELAY AND DANGER 113
XIX. THE CAPTIVE ; ‘ 119
XX. Passinc THE ACHMOUN 124
XXI. THE CARNAGE of MansouRaH 128
XXII. Tor BatTLE . ; ; 136
XXIII. How JoINVILLE KEPT THE BRIDGE 142
XXIV. THE First FRipay In LENT. i 150
XXV. MoRTIFICATIONS AND MISERIES 158
XXVI. THE MassacrkE or MiNIEH 165
XXVII. JoINnNvVILLE IN PERIL 173
XXVIII. News oF DISASTER 181
XXIX. A WounDED PILGRIM 185
XXX. Sr. Lovis 1n CHAINS 191
XXXI. Tur TRAGEDY OF PHARESCOUR 199
XXXII. PERILS AND SUSPENSE 204 —
XXXIII. AcrE 210
XXXIV. A RESCUE 214
XXXV. Mission To BAGDAD ; 222;
XXXVI. Tye Last oF THE CALIPHS . 229
XXXVII. A RECOGNITION 234
XXXVIII. Wor To THE CALIPH 240
XXXIX. In THE Lion’s MovutH ‘ 246
XL. Exp oF THE ARMED PILGRIMAGE . 253
XLY. A SuppEN DiscovERY 260
XLII. Homewaipd Bounp. 266
XLIII. A Royau VISIT é 272
XLIV. Tne Feast oF Kines . 279
THE BOY CRUSADERS,

——00:9300—

CHAPTER I.

A FEUDAL CASTLE.

T was the age of chain armour and tournaments —
of iron barons and barons’ wars—of pilgrims
and armed pilgrimages—of forests and forest out-
Jaws—when HenryeIII. reigned as King of Eng-
land, and the feudal system, though no longer ram-
pant, was still full of hfe and energy; when Louis
King of France, afterwards canonised as St. Louis,
undertook one of the last and most celebrated of
those expeditions known as the Crusades, and de-
scribed as ‘feudalism’s great adventure, and popular
wlory.’

At the time when Henry was King of England
and when Louis of France was about to embark for
the East, with the object of rescuing the Holy
Sepulchre from the Saracens, there stood on the very
verge of Northumberland a strong baronial edifice,
known as the Castle of Wark, occupying a circular
10 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

eminence, visible from a great distance, and command-
ing such an extensive view to the north as seemed to
ensure the garrison against any sudden inroad on the
part of the restless and refractory Scots. On the
north the foundations were washed by the waters of
the Tweed, here broad and deep; and on the south
were a little town, which had risen under the protection
of the castle, and,—stretching away towards the hills
of Cheviot,—an extensive park or chase, abounding
with wild cattle and deer and beasts of game. At
an earlier period this castle had been a possession
of the famous house of Espec; and, when in after
days it came into the hands of the Montacute Earls
of Salisbury, Edward III. was inspired within its
walls with that romantic admiration of the Countess
of Salisbury which resulted in the institution of the
Order of the Garter. During the fifth decade of the
‘thirteenth century, however, it was the chief seat of
Robert, Lord de Roos, a powerful Anglo-Norman
noble, whose father had been one of the barons of
Runnymede and one of the conservators of the Great
Charter.

Like most of the fortresses built by the Norman
conquerors of England, Wark consisted of a base-court,
a keep, and a barbican in front of the base-court. The
sides of the walls were fortified with innumerable
angles, towers, and buttresses, and surmounted with
strong battlements and hornworks. Tor greater secu-
rity the castle was encompassed, save towards the
Tweed, with a moat or deep ditch, filled with water,
aad fortified with strong palisades, and sharp stakes
set thick all around the walls. Over the moat, at the
THE MAIDENS WALK. 1

principal gate, was the drawbridge, which was almost
always raised, and the gate-house, a square building,
having strong towers at each corner. Over the en-
trance and within the square of the gate-house was
an arched vault, and over it was a chamber with
apertures, through which, on occasion of an assault,
the garrison, unseen the whilst, could watch the opera-
tions of the foe, and pour boiling water or melted lead
on the foremost assailants. On the west side were
the outworks, consisting of a platform with a trench
half a mile in length, and breastworks, and covered
ways, and mounds. The roofs of the building were
bordered with parapets, guard walks, and sentry
boxes.

But the whole space was not appropriated to works
intended to ensure the stronghold against the assault
of foes. Near the mound was the chapel dedicated
to St. Giles. Under the outer wall was a military
walk, five yards wide, and forty-eight yards in length.
Underneath the walls, on the brink of the river, wasa
beautiful terrace, called the Maiden’s Walk, where the
lady of the castle and her damsels, after their labours
at the loom, were wont to take air and exercise on a
summer evening, ere the vesper bell rang, and the
bat began to hunt the moth. Within the precincts
of the building was the tiltyard, a broad space en-
closed with rails, and covered with sawdust, where
young men of gentle blood, in the capacity of pages
and squires, acquired the chivalrous accomplishments
which the age prized so highly.

In fact, the castle of Wark, like most feudal castles
of that century, was a school of chivalry, whither
12 THE BOY. CRUSADERS.

the sons of nobles and knights were sent to serve
their apprenticeship as warriors, taught their duty to
God and the ladies, and trained to the skill in arms
which enabled them to compel the respect of one
sex and influence the hearts of the other.

First, on foot, they were taught to attack the pel,
an imaginary adversary, which was simply the stump
of a tree six feet in height; then, on horseback, they
were made to charge the quintain, a wooden figure
in the form of a Saracen, armed in mail and holding
a sabre in one hand and a shield in the other, and
so constructed to move on a pivot that, unless the
youth was dexterous enough to strike the face or
breast, it revolved rapidly, and dealt him a heavy
blow on the back as he was retiring. As the lads
became more expert they tilted at each other with
blunt lances, practised riding at the ring, and learned
to excel as equestrians by riding in a circle, vaulting
from their steeds in the course of their career, and
mounting again while they galloped.

At the same time they were trained to acquit
themselves with credit in those encounters celebrated
as combats at the barriers. At the sieges of cities,
during the middle ages, knights of the besieging
army were in the habit of going to the barriers,
or grated palisades of the fortress, and defying the
garrison to break a lance for the honour of their
ladies. Indeed, this was so fashionable, that an army
could hardly appear before a town without the siege
giving rise to a variety of such combats, which
were generally conducted with fairness on both —
sides. This mode of attack was early taught to the
THE TILTYARD. 1S

apprentice to chivalry, and assiduously practised by
all who were ambitious of knightly honour.

Nor did the exercises of the tiltyard end at this
stage. At the time of which I write, the name of
Richard Coeur de Lion was famous in Europe and
Asia; and his feats in arms were on every tongue.
One of his great exploits at the battle of Joppa was
especially the admiration of the brave. It seems
that, when the Crusaders were surrounded and
almost overwhelmed by the swarming host of
Saladin, Richard, who, up to that moment, had
neither given nor received a wound, suddenly sprang
on his charger, drew his sword, laid his lance in rest,
and with his sword in one hand, and his lance in
the other, spurred against the Saracens, striking
sparks from their helmets and armour, and inspiring
such terror that his foes were completely routed.
Naturally such an exploit made a strong impression
on the imagination of aspirants to warlike fame, and
the youth who had the dexterity and the equestrian
skill to imitate it in mimic fray was regarded with
admiration and envy.

Now our concern with Wark, and its tiltyard, is
simply this—that, within the castle, there were trained
in the exercises of chivalry, and qualified for its ho-
nours, two striplings, who, when St. Louis took the
Cross, and undertook a holy war, embarked for the
Kast, and figured, during a memorable expedition,
as the Boy Crusaders.
14

CHAPTER [.
THE BROTHERS-IN-ARMS.

N the last Wednesday of the month of July, in
the year 1248, the castle of Wark reposed in
the sunshine and warmth of a bright merry
summer’s day; and, the exercises in the tiltyard
being over for the morning, two of the apprentices
to chivalry, whose dress indicated that they had
attained the rank of squires, strolled slowly along
the green border of the Tweed. Neither of them
had passed the age of seventeen, but both were tall
and strong and handsome for their years; and both
had the fair hair, blue eyes, aquiline features, and
air of authority which distinguished the descendants
of the valiant Northmen who accompanied Rollo
when he left Norway, sailed up the Seine, and
seized on Neustria. But in one rather important
respect there was a remarkable difference. One had
a countenance which expressed gaiety of heart; the
other had a countenance which expressed sadness of
spirit. One bore the name of Guy Muschamp; the ©
other the still greater name of Walter Espec.
‘And so, good Walter, we are actually soldiers of
the Cross, and vowed to combat the Saracens,’ said
YOUTHFUL DREAMS. 15

Guy, as they walked along the grassy margin of the
river, which flowed tranquilly on, while the salmon
leaped in its silver tide, and the trouts glided like
silver darts through the clear stream, and the white
and brindled cows cooled their hoofs in the water;
‘and yet I know not how it comes to pass, good
Walter; but beshrew me if, at times, I do not fancy
that it is a dream of the night.’

‘In truth, brave Guy,’ replied the other, ‘I com-
prehend not how you can have any doubts on the
subject, when you see the sacred badge on our
shoulders, and when we have, even within the hour,
learned that the ships of the great Saxon earl, in
which we are to embark for the Holy Land, are now
riding at anchor before the town of Berwick.

‘You are right, good Walter, said Guy, quickly ;
‘and marry! worse than an infidel am I to havea
doubt; and yet when I think of all the marvels we
are likely to behold, I can scarce credit my good
fortune. Just imagine, Walter Espec, the pictu-
resque scenery —the palm-trees, the fig-trees, the
gardens with flowers, and vines, and citrons, and
pomegranates; the Saracenic castles, the long cara-
vans of camels, and the Eastern women veiled in
white, standing at fountains, and all the wonders
that palmers and pilgrims tell of! Oh! the adven-
ture appears so grand, that I now begin to dread
lest some mischance should come to prevent us
going.’

‘And I,’ observed Walter, calmly, ‘ have no dread ot
the kind; and I am, heart and soul, bent on the holy
euterprise ; albeit, I reck little of caravans of cameis,
16 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

cr veiled women. But my heart yearns ror that far
land ; for there it is that I am like to hear tidings of
him I have lost. Ah! credit me, brave Guy, that
you, and such as you, little know what it is to be
alone in this world, without kith or kindred, or
home, and how saddening is the thought, ever cross-
ing my mind, that one, near and dear, does live ; and

—and—’

He paused, bent his brow, clenched his hand, and
cast his eyes on the ground, as tears streamed down
his cheek.

‘Good Walter, dear Walter,’ said Guy, yielding to
sympathy till he was almost equally affected; ‘ droop
not, but be of good cheer. Forget not that we are
brothers-in-arms, that I am your friend, your true
and sworn friend; and I will aid your search. Nay,
I know what you are going to say; but you do me
wrong. I will not waste time in looking at the
camels and the veiled women, of whom palmer and
pilgrim tell; but I will go straightway with you to
the palace of the caliph; and, if he refuse to render
you justice, I will challenge him to mortal combat
on the spot. So again I say, be of good cheer.’

Walter Espec smiled mournfully. His enthu-
siasm was not, in reality, less than that of his com-
panion. But he had none of the gaiety, and little
of the buoyant spirit, which enabled Guy Muschamp
to make himself, at all times and seasons, a favourite
in castle hall and lady’s bower.

‘I fear me, brave Guy,’ said Walter, after a brict
silence, that the caliph is too great a potentate to be
dealt with as you would wish. But, come what may,
 

9

said Guy, “to the palace of the Caliph

you, Walter,”
you justice, 1 will challenge him to mortalcombat on the

ghtway with

if he refuses to render

‘*T will go strai

and
spot
THE LOST BROTIER. 17

IT am sworn to laugh at danger in the performance
of a duty. My dreams, awake and asleep, are of
him who is lost; and I fantasied last night,’ added
he, lowering his voice, ‘ that my mother stood before
me, as I last saw her when living, and implored me,
in the name of St. Katherine, the patron saint of the
Especs, to fulfil my vow of rescuing her lost son
from captivity and from the enemies of Christ.’

‘Oh, fear not, doubt not, good Walter,’ cried Guy,
with enthusiasm; ‘it must, it shall, be done; and
then we can go and conquer a principality, like
Tancred, or Bohemund of Tarentum, or Count Ray-
mond of St. Giles, and other old heroes.’

‘Even the crown of Jerusalem may not be beyond
our grasp, if fortune favour us,’ said Walter, with a
calm smile.

‘Oh, fortune ever favours the brave,’ exclaimed
Guy; ‘and I hold that nothing is impossible to men
who are brave and ambitious; and no squire of your
years is braver or more ambitious than you, Walter,
or more expert in arms; albeit you never utter a
boast as to your own feats, while no one is more
ready to praise the actions of others.’

‘Even if I had anything to boast of,’ replied
Walter, ‘I should refrain from so doing; and therein
I should only be acting according to the maxims of
chivalry ; for you know we are admonished to be
dumb as to our own deeds, and eloquent in praise of
others; and, moreover, that if the squire is vain-
glorious, he is not worthy to become a knight, and |
that he who is silent as to the valour of others is a
thief and a robber.’
18 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

And thus conversing, the brothers-in-arms re-
turned to the castle, and entered the great hall,
which was so spacious and so high in the roof that
a man on horseback might have turned a spear in it
with all the ease imaginable. It was, indeed, a
stately apartment; the ceiling consisting of a smooth
vault of ashlar-work, the stones being curiously
joined and fitted together; and the walls and roof
decorated by some of those great painters who flou-
rished in England under the patronage of King
Henry and his fair and accomplished queen, Eleanor
of Provence. Here was represented the battle of
Hastings; there the siege of Jerusalem by the
Crusaders under Godfrey of Bouillon and Rotert
Curthose; here the battle of the Standard ; there the
signing of the Great Charter by King John, under
the oak of Runnymede. Around the hall might be
traced the armorial bearings of the lord of the castle
and the chief families with whom the lord of the
castle was allied by blood — the three water-budgets
of De Roos; the three Katherine-wheels of Espec;
the engrailed cross of De Vesci ; the seven blackbirds
of Merley; the lion argent of Dunbar in its field of
gules; and the ruddy lion of Scotland, ramping in
gold; while on the roof was depicted the castle itself,
with gates, and battlements, and pinnacles, and
towers; and there also, very conspicuous, was the
form of a rose, and around it was inscribed in
Gothic letters the legend—

He who doth secrets reveal,

Beneath my roof shall never live.

it was ten o’clock—in that age the hour of dinner
DINNER IN THE OLDEN TIMES, 19

-—when Walter Espec and Guy Muschamp entered
the great hall of the castle, and, the household
having assembled for that important meal, a huge
oaken table, which in shape resembled the letter
T, groaned under massive sirloins. Attended by
his jesters, the lord of the castle took his seat on
the dais, which was reserved for his family and his
guests of high rank; while the knights, squires,
pages, and retainers ranged themselves above and
below the salt, according to their claims to pre-
cedence; and hawks stood around on perches, and
hounds lay stretched on the rushy floor, waiting their
turn to be fed.

Much ceremony was of course observed. The sir-
loins were succeeded by fish and fowl, and dishes
curiously compounded; and, as was the fashion of
that feudal age, the dinner lasted three hours. But,
notwithstanding the pride and pomp exhibited, the
meal was by no means dull. The jesters and min-
strels did their work. During the intervals the
jesters exercised all their wit to divert the lord and
his friends; and the minstrels, in the gallery set
apart for their accommodation, discoursed flourishes
of music, borrowed from the Saracens and brought
from the East, for the gratification of the company,
or roused the aspirations of the youthful warriors
by some such spirit-stirring strain as the battle-hymn
of Rollo. | |

‘I marvel much, good Walter,’ said Guy Mus-
champ to his brother-in-arms, ‘I marvel much where
we are destined to dine this day next year.’

‘Beshrew me if I can even form a guess,’ replied
20 THE BOY CRUSADERS,

Walter Espec, thoughttully; ‘methinks no seer less
potent than the Knight of Ercildoune, whom the
vulgar call “True Thomas,” could on such a point
do aught to satisfy your curiosity.’ |

‘Mayhap at Acre or Jerusalem,’ suggested Guy,
after a pause.

‘By Holy Katherine,’ exclaimed Walter, ‘ere you
named Acre and Jerusalem, my imagination had
carried me to the palace of the caliph at Bagdad.’
21

CHAPTER UL
THE HEIRS OF THE ESPECS.

N the days when the Norman kings reigned in
England, the Especs were of high account
among the Anglo-Norman barons. Many were the
brave and pious men who bore the name; but the
bravest and most pious of them all was that Walter
Espec, a great noble of the north, who maintained
high feudal state at the castles of Wark, Helmsley,
and Kirkham, and who figured so conspicuously as
chief of the English at the battle of the Standard,
and harangued the soldiers before the battle from the
chariot from which the standard was displayed.

But not only as a warrior was Walter Espec known
to fame. As a benefactor to religion, his name was
held in honour and his memory regarded with venc-
ration. |

It seems that Walter Espec had, by his wife
Adeline, an only son, who was a youth of great pro-
mise, and much beloved by his parents. Nothing,
however, pleased him more than a swift horse; and
he was so bold a rider that he would not have feared
to mount Bucephalus, in spite of heels and horns.
Leaping into the saddJe one day, at the eastle of

B
22 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

Kirkham, and scorning the thought of danger, he
spurred his charger pond its strength, and, while
galloping towards Frithby, had a fall at the stone
cross, and was killed on the spot. Much afflicted at
his son’s death, Waiter Espec sent for his brother,
who was a priest ain] a ‘rectuc,

‘My son being, alas! eee: said he, ¢ . know not
who should be ray heir.

‘Brother mine,’ i the cient ‘your duty is
clear. Make Christ your heir.’

Now Walter Espec relished the advice, and prc-
ceeded to act on it forthwith. He founded three
religious houses, one at Warden, a second at Kirk-
ham, a third at Rievallé; and, having been a disciple
of Harding, and much attached to the Cistercian
order, he planted at each place a colony of monks, sent
him from beyond the sea by the great St. Bernard ;
and, having further signalised his piety by becoming
a monk in the abbey of Rievallé, he died, full of
years and honours, and was buried in that religious
house ; while his territorial possessions passed to the
Lord de Roos, as husband of his sister.

Nevertheless, the family of Espec was not yet
extinct. A branch still survived and flourished in
the north; and, as time passed over, a kinsman of
the great Walter won distinction in war, and, though
a knight of small estate, wedded a daughter of that
Anglo-Saxon race the Icinglas, once so great in Eng-
land, but of whom now almost everything is for-
cotten but the name. And this Espec, who had
lived as a soldicr, died a soldier’s death; falling
bravely with his feet to the foe, on that day in 1242
WALTER AND OSBERT. 23

when the English under King Henry fought against
such fearful odds, at the village of Saintonge. But
even now the Especs were not without representa-
tives; for, by his Anglo-Saxon spouse Algitha, the
Anglo-Norman warrior who fell in Gascony left
two sons, and of the two one was named Walter, the
other Osbert.

While Dame Algitha Espec lived, the young
specs scarcely felt the loss they had sustained in
the death of their father. Nothing, indeed, could
have been more exemplary than the care which the
Anglo-Saxon dame bestowed on her sons. In a con-
versation which Walter Espec held on the battle-
ments of the castle of Wark, with his brother-in-
arms Guy Muschamp, the heir of an Anglo-Norman -
baron of Northumberland, he lauded her excellence
as a woman, and her tenderness as a mother.

‘[ was in my tenth year,’ said Walter, ‘when my
father, atter having served King Henry as a knight
in Gascony, fell in battle; and, albeit my mother,
when she became a widow, was still fair and of fresh
ave, a widow she resolved to remain; and she adhered
firmly to her purpose. In truth, her mouth was so
accustomed to repeat the name of her dead hus-
band that it seemed as if his memory had _ pos-
session of her whole heart and soul; for whether
in praying or giving alms, and even in the most
ordinary acts of life, she continually pronounced his
name. |

‘My mother brought up my brother and myself
with the most tender care. Living at our castellated
house of Heckspeth, in the Wansbeck, and hard by
24 : THE BOY CRUSADERS,

the abbey of Newminster, she lived in great fear of
the Lord, and with an equal love for her neighbours,
especially such as were poor; and she prudently
managed us and our property. Scarcely had we
learned the first elements of letters, which she her-
self, being convent-bred, taught us, when, eager to
have us instructed, she confided us to a master
of grammar, who incited us to work, and taught
us to recite verses and compose them according to
rule.’

It was while the brothers Espec were studying
under this master of grammar, and indulging with
spirit and energy in the sports and recreations
fashionable among the boys of the thirteenth
century —such as playing with whirligigs and paper
windmills, and mimic engines of war, and trundling
hoops, and shooting with bows and arrows, and learn-
ing to swim on bladders, that Dame Algitha followed
her husband to a better world, and they found them-
selves orphans and unprotected. For both, however,
Providence raised up friends in the day of need.
Remembering what he owed to his connection with
the Especs, the Lord de Roos received Walter into his
castle of Wark, to be trained to arms; and another
kinsman, who was a prior in France, received Osbert
into his convent, to be reared asa monk. The orphans,
who had never before been separated, and who were
fondly attached, parted after many embraces, and
many tears ; and, with as little knowledge of the world
into which they were entering as fishes have of the
sea in which they swim, each went where destiny.
seemed to point the way.
CHIVALROUS EXERCISES. 25

On reaching the castle of Wark, Walter Espec felt
delighted with the novelty of the scene, and entered
with enthusiasm upon his duties as an aspirant to
the honours of chivalry. Besides learning to carve,
to sing, and to take part in that exciting sport which
has been described as ‘the image of war’—such as
hawking, and hunting the hare, the deer, the boar,
and the wolf —he ere long signalised himself in the
tiltyard by the facility which he displayed in ac-
quiring skill in arms, and in chivalrous exercises.
Indeed, whether in assailing the pel, or charging the
quintain on horseback, or riding at the ring, or in
the combat at the barriers, Walter had hardly a rival
among the youths of his own age; and, after being
advanced to the rank of squire, he crowned his
triumphs in the tiltyard by successfully charging on
horseback, @ la Coeur de Lion, with a sword in one
hand and a lance in the other.

But still Walter Espec was unhappy; and, even
when his dexterity and prowess in arms moved the
envy or admiration of his youthful compeers, his
heart was sad and his smile mournful.

And why was the brave boy so sad?

At the time when Walter was winning such repu-
tation at the castle of Wark, Jerusalem was sacked
by the Karismians. A cry of distress came from the
Christians in the East; and the warriors of the West
were implored to undertake a new crusade, to rescue
the Holy Sepulchre and save the kingdom founded
by Godfrey and the Baldwins. The warriors of the
West, however, showed no inclination te leave their
homes; and tle pope was lamenting the absence of
26 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

Christian zeal, when a boy went about France,
singing in his native tongue—

Jesus, Lord, repair our loss,

Restore to us thy blessed cross ;
and met with much sympathy from those of his
ownage. Multitudes of children crowded round him
as their leader, and followed his footsteps wherever
he went. Nothing could restrain their enthusiasm ;
and, assembling in crowds in the environs of Paris,
they prepared to cross Burgundy and make for
Marseilles.

‘And whither are you going, children?’ people
asked.

‘We are going to Jerusalem, to deliver the Holy
Sepulchre,’ answered they.

‘But how are you to get there?’ was the next
question.

‘Oh,’ replied they, ‘you seem not to know how it
has been prophesied that this year the drought will
be very great, that the sun will dissipate all the
waters, and that the abysses of the sea will be dry;
and that an easy road will lie open to us across the
bed of the Mediterranean.’

On reaching Marseilles, however, the young pil-
orims discovered that they had been deluded. Some
of them returned to their homes; but the majority
were not so fortunate. Many lost themselves in the
forests which then covered the country, and died
of hunger and fatigue; and the others became
objects of speculation to two merchants of Marseilles,
who carried on trade with the Saracens. Affecting.
to act from motives of piety, the two merchants
SOLD TO TIT SLAVE-DEALERS, 27

tempted the boy-pilgrims by offering to convey them,
without charge, to the Holy Land; and, the offer
having been joyfully accepted, seven vessels, with
children on board, sailed from Marseilles. But the
voyage was not prosperous. At the end of two days,
when the ships were off the isle of St. Peter, near
the rock of the Recluse, a tempest arose, and the
wind blew so violently that two of them went down
with all on board. The five others, however, wea-
thered the storm, and reached Bugia and Alexandria.
And now the young Crusaders discovered to their con-
sternation how they had been deceived and betrayed.
Without delay they were sold by the merchants to the
slave-dealers, and by the slave-dealers to the Saracens.
Forty of them were purchased for the caliph and
carried to Bagdad, where they were forced to abjure
Christianity, and brought up as slaves.

Now, among the boys who had yielded to the
prevailing excitement, and repaired to Marseilles to
embark for Syria, was Osbert Espec; and ever since
Walter received from his kinsman, the prior, intel-
ligence of his brother’s disappearance, and heard the
rumours of what had befallen the young pilgrims on
their arrival in the East, his memory had brooded
over the misfortune, and his imagination, which was
constantly at work, pictured Osbert in the caliph’s
prison, laden with chains, and forced to forswear the
God of his fathers; and the thought of his lost
brother was ever present to his mind. And there-
fore was Walter Espec’s heart sad, and therefore was
his smile mournful,
28

CHAPTER IV.
ST. LOUIS.

MONG the names of the European princes
associated with the history of the Holy War,
that of St. Louis is one of the most renowned.
Although flourishing in a century which produced
personages like I'rederick, Emperor of Germany, and
our first great Edward, who far excelled him in genius
and prowess—-as wise rulers in peace and mighty
chiefs in war—his saintliness, his patience in afflic-
tion, his respect for justice and the rights of his
neighbours, entitle him to a high place among the
men of the age which could boast of so many royal
heroes. In order to comprehend the crusade, of
which he was leader, it is necessary to refer briefly
to the character and career of the good and pious
king, who, in the midst of disaster and danger,
exhibited the courage of a hero and the resignation
of a martyr.

It was on the day of the Festival of St. Mark, in
the year 1215, that Blanche of Castille, wife of the
eighth Louis of France, gave birth, at Poissy, to an
heir to the crown, which Hugh Capet had, three
centuries earlier, taken from the feeble heir of
BLANCHE OF CASTILLE. 29

Charlemagne. On the death of his father, Louis,
then in his twelfth year, became King of France, at
a time when it recuired a man with a strong hand
to maintain the privileges of the crown against the
ereat nobles of the kingdom. Fortunately for the
young monarch Providence had blessed him with a
mother, who, whatever her faults and failings—and
chroniclers have not spared her reputation—brought
to the terrible task of governing in a feudal age a
high spirit and a strong will, and applied herself
earnestly to the duty of bringing up her son in the
way in which he should walk, and educating him in
such a manner as to prepare him for executing the
high functions which he was destined to fulfil.
While, with the aid of her chivalrous admirer, the
Count of Champagne, and the counsel of a cardinal-
legate—with whom, by-the-bye, she was accused of
being somewhat too familiar—Blanche of Castille
maintained the rights of the French monarchy against
the great vassals of France, she reared her son with
the utmost care. She entrusted his education to
excellent masters, appointed persons eminent for
piety to attend to his religious instruction, and
evinced profound anxiety that he should lead a
virtuous and holy life.

‘Rather,’ she once said, ‘would I see my son in
his grave, than learn that he had committed a mortal
sin.’

As time passed on, Blanche of Castille had the
gratification of finding that her toil and her anxiety
Were not in vain. Louis, indeed. was a model whom
other princes, in their teens, would have done well
30 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

to copy. His piety, and his eagerness to do what
was right and to avoid what was wrong, raised the
wonder of his contemporaries. He passed much of
his time in devotional exercises, and, when not
occupied with religious duties, ever conducted him-
self as if with a consciousness that the eye of his
Maker was upon him, and that he would one day
have to give a strict account of all his actions.
Every morning he went to hear prayers chanted, and
mass and the service of the day sung; every after-
noon he reclined on his couch, and listened while
one of his chaplains repeated prayers for the dead;
and every evening he heard complines.

Nevertheless, Louis did not, like such royal per-
sonages as our Henry VI., allow his religious exer-
cises so wholly to monopolise his time or attention
as to neglect the duties which devolved upon him as
king. The reverse was the case. After arriving at
manhood he convinced the world that he was well
qualified to lead men in war, and to govern them in
peace.

It happened that, in the year 1242, Henry King
of England, who was several years older than Louis,
became ambitious of regaining the continental ter-
ritory wrested from his father, John, by Philip
Augustus; and the Count de la Marche, growing
malecontent with the government of France, formed
a confederacy against the throne, and invited Henry
to conduct an army to the Continent. Everything
seemed so promising, and the confederacy so formid~
able, that Henry, unable to resist the temptation of »
recovering Normandy and Anjou, crossed the sea,
THE CONFEDERATES REPULSED. 3l

landed at Bordeaux, and prepared for hostilities,
At first, the contederates were contident of succeed-
ing in their ebjects; but, ere long, they discovered
that they had mistaken their position, and the
character of the prince whom they were defying.

In tact, Louis soon proved that he was no ‘ carpet
knight.’ Assembling an army, he buckled on his
mail, mounted his charger; and placing himself at
the head of his forces, marched to encounter his
enemies. Reaching the banks of the Charente, he
offered the confederates battle, near the bridge of
Taillebourg; but his challenge was not accepted.
By this time the confederates had lost faith in their
enterprise ; and while De la Marche was meditating a
reconciliation with Louis, Henry, accusing the count
of having deceived, and being about to betray, him,
retreated precipitately, and never drew rein till he
reached the village of Saintonge.

But Louis was unwilling to allow his royal foe to
escape so easily. Nor, indeed, could Henry without
reluctance fly from the peril he had provoked. At
all events, on reaching Saintonge, the English turned
to bay, and a battle began. But the odds were
overwhelming; and, though the Anglo-Norman barons
fought with characteristic courage, they were speedily
worsted, and under the necessity of making for
Bordeaux.

From the day on which this battle was fought, it
was no longer doubtful that Louis was quite able to
hold his own; and neither foreign kings nor conti-
nental counts cared to disturb his government or
deity his power. In fact, the fame of the King of
re
5

THE BOY CRUSADERS,

France became great throuchout Christendom, and
inspired the hopes of the Christians of the East.

Nor was it merely as a warrior that Louis sig-
nalised himself among his contemporaries. At the
time when he was attending, with exemplary regu-
larity, to his religious devotions, and keeping watch
over the security of his dominions, he was devoting
himself assiduously to his duties as sovereign and to
the administration of justice.

One day, when Louis was at the castle of Hieros,
in Provence, a Cordelier friar approached.

‘Sire,’ said the friar, ‘I have read of unbelieving
princes in the Bib!e and other good books; yet I
have never read of a kingdom of believers or un-
believers being ruined, but from want of justice
being duly administered. Now,’ continued the friar,
‘I perceive the king is going to France; let him
administer justice with care, that our Lord may
suffer him to enjoy his kingdom, and that it may
remain in peace and tranquillity all the days of his
life, and that God may not deprive him of it with
shame and dishonour.’ |

Louis listened attentively to the Cordelier, and the
friar’s words sank deep into his mind. From that
date he gave much attention to the administration of
justice, and took especial care to prevent the poor
being wronged by their more powerful neighbours.
On summer days, after hearing mass, he was in the
habit of repairing to the gardens of his palace, seat-
ing himself on a carpet, and lstening to such as
wished to appeal to him; at other times he went to
the wood of Vincennes, and there, sitting under an
IARGARET OF PROVENCE. 83

oak, listened to their statements with attention and
patience. No ceremony was allowed to keep the
poor man from the kine’s justice-seat.

‘Whoever has a complaint to make,’ Louis was
wont to say, ‘let him now make it ;’ and when there
were several who wished to be heard, he would add,
‘My friends, be silent for awhile, and your causes
shall be despatched one after another.’

When Louis was in his nineteenth year, Blanche
of Castille recognised the expediency of uniting him
to a princess worthy of sharing the French throne,
-and bethought her of the family of Raymond
Berenger, Count of Provence, one of the most ac-
complished men in Europe, and whose countess,
Beatrice of Savoy, was even more accomplished
than her husband; Raymond and Beatrice had four
daughters, ai! remarkable for their wit and beauty,
and all destined to be queens. Of these four daugh-
ters, the eldest, Margaret of Provence, who was then
thirteen, was selected as the bride of Louis; and,
about two years before her younger sister, Eleanor,
was conducted to England to be espoused by King
Henry, Margaret arrived in Paris, and began to
figure as Queen of France. :

The two princesses of Provence who had the for-
tune to form such high alliances found themselves in
very different positions. Eleanor did just as she
pleased, ruled her husband, and acted as if every-
thing in England had been created for her gratifi-
eation. Margaret’s situation, though more safe, was
much less pleasant. In her husband’s palace she could
not boast of being in the enjoyment even of personal
34 THE BOY CRUSADERS, ~

liberty. In fact, Queen Blanche was too fond of

power to allow that which she had acquired to be

needlessly imperilled; and, apprehensive that the -
young queen should gain too much influence with

the king, she deliberately kept the royal pair’sepa-

rate. Nothing, indeed, could exceed the domestic

tyranny under which they suffered. When Louis

and Margaret made royal progresses, Blanche of
Castille took care that her son and daughter-in-law

were lodged in separate houses. Even in cases of
sickness the queen-mother did not relent. On one

occasion, when Margaret was ill and in the utmost

danger, Louis stole to her chamber. While he was

there, Blanche entered, and he endeavoured to con-

ceal himself. Blanche, however, detected him, shook

her head, and forcibly pushed him out of the door.

‘ Be off, sir,’ said she, sternly ; ‘ you have no richt
here.’

‘Madam, madam,’ exclaimed Margaret, in despair,
‘will you not allow me to see my husband, either
when I am living, or when I am dying?’ and the
poor queen fainted away.

It was while the young saint-king and his fair
Provencal spouse were enduring this treatment at the
hands of the old queen-mother that events occurred
which fired Louis with the idea of undertaking a
crusade, and gave Margaret an excellent excuse for
escaping from the society of the despotic dowager
who had embittered her life, and almost broken her
heart.

One day, when Louis was recovering from the
effects of a fever, which had so thoroughly prostrated
RECOVERY OF LOUIS. 35

him, that at times his attendants believed he was
dead, he ordered a Cross to be stitched to his
garments. |

‘ How is this,’ asked Blanche of Castille, when she
came to visit her son on his sick bed.

‘Madam,’ whispered the attendants, ‘the king
has, out of gratitude for his recovery, taken the Cross,
and vowed to combat the infidel.’

‘Alas! alas! exclaimed Blanche, terrified, ‘I am
struck as fearfully as if I had seen him dead.’
36

CHAPTER V.
TAKING THE CROSS.

CENTURY anda half had elapsed since Peter the
Hermit roused Christendom to rescue the Holy
Sepulchre, and since Godfrey and the Baldwins
established the Christian kingdom of Jerusalem ; and
in the interval, many valiant warriors— including
Richard Coeur de Lion, and Fhilip Augustus, and
Frederick Barbarossa—had gone forth to fight in its
defence; and the orders of military monks—the
Knights of the Temple, the Knigbts of St. John, the
Knights of St. Katherine of Sinai, and the Teutonic
Knights, had risen to keep watch over the safety of
the Holy Sepulchre. But the kingdom of Jerusalem,
constantly exposed to rude shocks, far from prosper-
ing, was always in danger of ruin; and in 1244 the
Holy City, its capital, was taken and sacked by a wild
race, Without a country, known as the Karismians,
who, at the sultan’s instance, slaughtered the inhab-
itants, opened the tombs, burnt the bodies of heroes,
scattered the relics of saints and martyrs .to the
wind, and perpetrated such enormities as Jerusalem,
in her varying fortunes, had never before witnessed.
When this event occurred, the Christians of the
WAR IN CIIRISTEN DOM. 3?

East, more loudly than ever, implored the warriors
of Europe to come to their rescue. But, as it hap-
pened, most of the princes of Christendom were in
too much trouble at home to attend to the affairs of
Jerusalem. Baldwin Courtenay, Emperor of Constan-
tinople, was constantly threatened with expulsion
_by the Greeks; Frederick, Emperor of Germany,
was at war with the Pope; the King of Castille
was fighting with the Moors; the King of Poland
was fully occupied with the Tartars; the King of
Denmark had to defend his throne against his own
brother; the King of Sweden had to defend his
throne against the Tolekungers. As for Henry
King of England, he was already involved in those
disputes with the Anglo-Norman barons which ulti-
mately led to the Barons’ War. One kingdom alone
was at peace; and it was France, then ruled by
Louis [X., since celebrated as St. Louis, that Hesones
to the cry of distress.

At that time Louis King of France, then not
more than thirty, but already, as we have seen, noted
for piety and valour, was stretched on a bed of sick-
ness, and so utterly prostrate that, at times, as has
been related, he was thought to be dead. Never-
theless, he did recover; and, snatched as if by
miracle from the gates of death, he evinced his
eratitude to Heaven by ordering the Cross to be fixed
to his vestments, and vowing to undertake an expe-
dition for the rescue of the Holy Sepulchre.

The resolution of the saintly monarch was not
quite agreeable to his family or his subjects, any
more than to his mother, Blanche of Castille; and

é
THE BOY CRUSADERS,

0
Ge

many of lis lords made earnest efforts to divert.
him from his purpose. But remonstrance proved
unavailing, Clinging steadfastly to his resolution,
Louis summoned a Parliament at Paris, induced the
assembjed magnates to take tlie Cross, oceupied three
years with preparations on a great scale, and ulti-
mately, having repaired to St. Denis, and received
from the hands of the papal legate the famous
standard known as the oriflamme of France, em-
barked at Aigues Mortes, and sailed for Cyprus, with -
his queen, Margaret. of Provence, his brothers, the
Counts of Artois, Poictiers, and Anjou, and many
of the greatest lords of his kingdom.

Meanwhile, the barons of England were not. in-
different to what was- passing on the Continent.
Many of them, indeed, were desirous to take part in
the expedition. But King Henry not only forbade
them to assume the Cross, but would not allow a
crusade to be preached in his dominions. No gene-
ral movement was therefore made in England.
Nevertheless, William Lonysword, Eaal of Salisbury,
grandson of the second Henry and Rosamond Clifford,
determined on an ‘armed pilgrimage,’ and, in com-
pany with Lord Robert de Vere and others, vowed
to join the French Crusaders and combat the Saracens.
Hfenry, enraged at his mandate being disregarded,
seized Salisbury’s manors and castles; but the earl,
faithful to his vow, embarked, with De Vere as
his standard-bearer, and with two hundred Knelish
knights of noble name and danntless courage, sworn
to bring the standard hack with glory, o. dye it
with their hearts’ blood
BATDL PATRICK. 39

At the same time Patrick, Earl of March, the
most illustrious noble who sprang from the Anglo-
Saxon race, announced his intention of accompany-
ing King Louis to the East. Earl Patrick had seen
more than threescore years, and his hair was white,
and his limbs stiff; but his head was still as clear,
and his heart was still as courageous, as in the days
when he had dyed his lance in Celtic blood, van-
quished the great Somerled, and carried the Bastard
of Galloway in chains to Edinburgh; and, with
an earnest desire to couch against the enemies of
Christianity the lance which he had often couched
acainst the enemies of civilisation, he took the Cross,
sold his stud on the Leader Haughs to pay his
expenses, bade a last farewell to Euphemia Stewart,
his aged countess, received the pilgrim’s staff and
scrip from the Ab»ot of Melrose, and left his castle
to embark with his knights and kinsmen.

‘I was young, and now I am old,’ said Earl
Patrick, with enthusiasm. ‘In my youth I fought
with the foes of my race. In my old age I will
fare forth and combat the foes of my religion.’

It was under the banner of this aged hero that
Guy Muschamp and Walter Espec were about to
embark for the East; and, on the evening of the day
preceding that on which they were to set out, they
were conducted to the presence of the mother of the
lord of the castle, who was the daughter of a Scottish
king, that they might receive her blessing.

‘My children,’ said she, as they knelt before her,
and she laid her hands on their heads, ‘do not forget,
when among strangers and exposed to temptation,
At) THE LOY CRUSADERS.

the lessons of piety and chivalry which you have
learned within these walls. Fear God, and He will
support you in all dangers. Be frank and courteous,
but not servile, to the rich and powerful; kind and
helpful to the poor and afflicted. Beware of merit-
ing the reproaches of the brave; and ever bear in
mind that evil befalls him who proves false to his
promises to his God, his country, and his lady. Be
brave in war; in peace, loyal and true in thought and
word; and Heaven will bless you, and men will hold
your names in honour, and you will be dreaded in
battle and loved in hall.’

Next mornirg the brothers-in-arms rose betimes;
and, all preparations for their departure having been
previously made, they mounted at daybreak, and
leaving the castle of Wark, and riding through the
great park that lay around it, startling the deer and
the wild cattle as they went, took their way towards
Berwick, before which rode the ships destined to
convey them from their native shores.
CHAPTER VI.
EMBARKING FOR THE EAST.

T was Saturday; and the sun shone brightly on
pool and stream, and even lighted up the dingy
corners of walled cities, as the Earl of March pro-
ceeded on foot from the castle to the port of Berwick,
and embarked with his knights and kinsmen.

The event created much excitement in the town.
In fact, though the princes and nobles of Europe
were weary of enterprises that had ruined so many
great houses, the people still thought of the crusades
with interest, and talked of them with enthusiasm.
The very name of Palestine exercised a magical
influence on the European Christians of that gene-
ration. At the mention of the Holy Land, their
imagination conjured up the most picturesque
scenery; Saracenic castles stored with gold and
jewels; cities the names of which were recorded in
the sacred book which the poorest knew by picture ;
and they listened earnestly as palmer or pilgrim told
of Sharon with its roses without thorns; Lebanon
with its cedars and vines; and Carmel with its
solitary convent, and its summit covered with thyme,
and haunted by the eagle and the boar, till their
42 THE BOY vURUSADERS.

fancy pictured ‘a land flowing with milk and honey,’
by repairing to which sinners could secure pardon
without penance in this world, and happiness without
purgatory in the next.

Jt is not wonderful that, when such sentiments
prevailed, the embarkation of a great noble for the
Holy Land should have excited much interest; and,
as Guy Muschamp and Walter Espec took their way
from the castle to the port, crowded with ships, and
passed warehouses stored with merchandise, the Red
Iiall of the Flemings resounding with the noise of
artificers, the wealthy religious houses which kept
alive the flame of ancient learning, and dispensed be-
fitting charities, the streets presented a motley assem-
blage of seafaring men, monks, warriors, and soldiers ;
the wives and daughters of the burghers, all in
holiday attire, crowded the housetops or gazed
from the windows and balconies; and the burghers
themselves, leaving their booths and warehouses,
flocked to the port to gossip with each other, and to
witness the departure of the armed pilgrims.

‘Oh, good Walter,’ exclaimed Guy Muschamp,
whose spirit rose with the excitement, ‘is not this a
stirring scene? By St. John of Beverley, what rich
armour! what gallant ships! what stately churches!
And yet I would wager my basinet to a prentice’s
flat cap that it is not, for a moment, to be compared
to Acre.’ 7

‘I deem that it can hardly be,’ replied Walter,
calmly; ‘and, in truth, I am in no mood to look
upon lite with joyous emotions. But, brave Guy, I
am pleased to see you pleased; albeit, T own frankly
THE EMBARKATION. 43

that I should be more than human did IJ uot. some-
what envy you your gaiety.’

‘Be gay, good Walter,’

Walter shock his head. —

‘Vain would be the effort,’ he replied, sadly; <I
can only pray to God and Holy Katherine to grant
that I may return with a lighter heart.’

‘As for me, continued Guy, ‘I am ever gay—-gay
as the laik; gay in the morning, gay at eve. It is my
nature so to bee My mother is a Frenchwoman—a
kinswoman of the Lord of Joinville-—and scaice
knows what sadnees is. I inherit her spirit; and I
doubt not that, if I am slain by the wanes I shall
die laughing.’

With this conversation they reacheil the quay, just
as Earl Patrick was stepping on board his ship, the
‘Hilda,’ which, if less graceful and elegant than the
vessels of modern times, was imposing to look upon
Adorned with painting and gilding, it had armovial
bearings and badges embroidered on various paris;
banners of gay and brilliant colours floated from the
masts; and the sails of azure and purple shone with
work of gold. Armour elittered on deck; and martial
music was not wanting to give variety to the display.

Meanwhile, amidst the bustle and shouts of the
crew, the ports of the vessel were opened to allow
the horses of the armed pilgrims to enter; and, as
the ports were under water when the vessel was at
sea, they were caulked and stopped up as close as a
tun of wine. This operation over, and all the adven-
turers embarked, the skipper raised his hand for
sileice.
Ad THE BOY CRUSADERS.

‘My men, is your work done?’ cried he to his
people in the prow; ‘are you ready ?’

‘Yes, in truth, we are ready,’ answered the sea-
men. |

And now, the priests who accompanied Earl
Patrick having embarked, the captain made them
mount to the castle of the ship, and chant psalms
in praise of God, and to pray that He might be
pleased to grant a prosperous voyage; and they,
having ascended, sang the beautiful hymn of ‘ Veni,
Creator’ from beginning to end. While the priests
sang, the mariners set their sails, and the skipper
ordered them to haul up the anchor; and instantly
a breeze filled the sails, and the ships moved slowly
but proudly away from the shore.
45

CHAPTER VIL
THE ARMED PILGRIMS AT CYPRUS,

N°”; with the very best grace did the King of

France come to the resolution of sailing for
Cyprus. Indeed, the safety of his army depended,
in some degree, on the route selected; and the
safest way to the Holy Land was understood to be
by Sicily. Unluckily, however, Sicily was subject
to the Emperor Frederick; and Frederick and his
dominions had been excommunicated by the Pope;
and Louis, with his peculiar notions, feared ‘to set
foot on a soil that was under the ban of the Church.
At Lyons, where he received the papal blessing, he
endeavoured to reconcile the Emperor and the Pope;
but his Holiness declined to listen to mediation ; and
the saint-king, yielding to conscientious scruples,
determined, without further hesitation, to sacrifice
his plan of passing through Sicily to Syria, and
announced his intention of proceeding by way of
Cyprus to Egypt.

At that time the King of Cyprus was Henry de Lu-
signan, to whose family Richard Coeur de Lion had,
in the twelfth century, given the throne, from which
he dragged the Emperor Isaac; and no sooner did
46 THE BOY ctkUSADERS.

Louis reach the port of Limisso, than Henry, accom-
panied by nobles and clergy, appeared to bid him
welcome. Nothing, indeed, could have exceeded the
enthusiasm with which the French Crusaders were
received; and when Louis was conducted with much
ceremony to Nicosia, aud entered that city, the capital
of the island, the pcpulace cheered loudly, and the
clergy met him, singing * Blessed is he that comes
in the name of the Lord.’

The glory of Nicosia has long since departed.
Situated in the centre of Cyprus, on the river Pedia,
in a low fertile plain, near the base of a range of
mountains that intersects the island, and surrounded
by walls, in the form of a hexagon, flanked with
bastions, the capital has many fine houses; but
these are mostly in ruins, and the inhabitants occupy
tenements reared of mud and brick, and rather
repulsive in appearance. At that time, however, the
state of Nicosia was very different. As the capital
of the Lusignans, the city exhibited the pomp and
pride of feudal chivalry, with much of the splen-
dour of oriental courts, and boasted of its palaces,
castles, churches, and convents, and chapelries, and
vardens, and vineyards, and pleasant places, and all
the luxuries likely to render medizeval life enviable.
_ Now, when Louis landed at Limisso, and entered
Nicosia, he had no intention of wintering in Cyprus.
In fact, the saint-king was all eagerness to push
forward and combat the Saracens. But circum-
stances proved stronger than his will. The Crusaders
were highly captivated with all that they saw and
heard. ‘The aspect of the island was enchanting ;
THE EFFECTS OF DISSIPATION, 47

the wine, which even Solomon has deigned to cele-
brate, was to their taste: the dark-eyed Greek
women, who perhaps knew that the island had
anciently been the favourite seat of Venus, and who,
in any case, enjoyed the reputation of being devoted
to the worship of the goddess, were doubtless fasci-
nating; and almost every one of the days that suc-
ceeded Louis's arrival was devoted to rejoicings and
feastings. Not unnaturally, but most unfortunately,
the Crusaders yielded to the fascinations of an
existence which at first they all enjoyed, heart
and soul; and with one accord they cried out, ‘ We
must tarry here till spring. Let us eat, drink, and
be merry.’ ,

Accordingly the Crusaders did winter in Cyprus;
and the consequences were most disastrous. Ener-
vated by luxury, they soon forgot their vows, and
rushed into every kind of extravagance and dissipa-
tion. Of course, their recklessness soon brought its
own punishment. As time passed on, and winter set
in, rain fell daily, and the intemperance, the strange
climate, and the weather soon did their work. By-
and-by, a pestilential disease made its appearance in
the camp of the pilgrims, and carried -ff thousands
of victims, including two hundred and “fty knights.
Moreover, there was much discord anJ dissension.
The Greek clergy and the Latin clergy began to
quarrel; the Templars and the Knights of St. John
began to fight; and the saint-king found his position
the very reverse of satisfactory or agreeabie.

By the time that the little fleet, on board of which
were Guy Muschamp and Walter Espec, reached
48 THE BOY CRUSADETS.

Cyprus, matters were not what they should have
been; and the wise and prudent shook their heads,
and predicted that an expedition conducted in
such a fashion was too likely to end in disaster and
ruin.
49

CHAPTER VIII.
EASTWARD.

r was July, as [ have intimated, when the ship

‘Hilda,’ which carried Walter Espec and Guy
Muschamp, left the shores of England; and, soon after
having lost sight of land, both began to experience
a little of that vague fear of ‘the blue above and the
blue below,’ which, in the thirteenth century, made
some of the boldest feudal warriors, when they em-
barked, invoke the protection of the saints in
Paradise.

‘On my faith, good Walter,’ remarked Guy, with
less than his wonted gaiety, for the ship was beginning
to toss, and he was beginning to feel rather sea sick,
‘fT cannot but think that the man is a great fool, who,
having wronged any of his neighbours, or having
any mortal sin on his conscience, puts himself in such
peril as this; for, when he goes to sleep at night, he
knows not if in the morning he may not find him-
self under the waves.’

‘May the saints preserve us from such a fate,’
replied Walter, thoughtfully; ‘yet I own I feel so
uneasy that [can hardly believe myself a descendant
of the kings of the north who made the ocean their
50 THE DOY CRUSADERS.

home, and called the tempest their servant, and
never felt so joyous as when they were treading the
pine plank, and giving the reins to their ereat sea
. horses.’

‘On my faith,’ said Guy, who was every moment
becoming more uncomfortable, *I cannot but marvel
much at the eccentricity of their tastes, and could
almost wish myself back to the castle of Wark.’

‘Nevertheless,’ replied Walter, ‘we must bear in
mind that, having taken the Cross and vowed to
combat the Saracens, it beseems us not, as Christians
and gentlemen, to look backward.’

At the time when this conversation took place, the
sea was comparatively calm, and the weather most
favourable; and the skipper, naturally overjoyed with
his good fortune in both respects, predicted a speedy
voyage. In this, however, he was in some measure
disappointed. Many circumstances occurred to retard
the progress of the Saxon Earl and his companions
towards Cyprus; and, what with prolonged calms, and
contrary winds, and foul weather, it was late in
autumn ere they neared the island where the King
of France and his chivalry had, for their misfortune,
resolved on passing the winter.

So far all was well, and the Boy Crusaders, now
recovered from their sickness, rejoiced in the antici-
pation of soon reaching Cyprus. But the dangers of
the voyage were not yet over, and one evening, about
vespers, while Walter and Guy were regaling their
imaginations with the prospect of being speedily in
the company of the warriors of France, the mariners
found that. they were unpleasantly close to a great
A PERILOUS MOUNTAIN. 51

mountain of Barbary. Not relishing their position
—for they had the fear of the Saracens of Barbary
before their eyes—the mariners pressed on, and
during the night made all the sail they could, and
flattered themselves that they had run at least fifty
leagues. But what was their surprise when day
broke, to find that they were still off the mountain
which they fancied they must have left behind. Great,
moreover, was their alarm as they thought of the
pivatical natives; and, albeit they laboured hard all
that day and all that night to make sail, when the
sun rose next morning—it was Saturday—-the moun-
tain, from which they were so anxious to escape, was
still near at hand. All on board expressed their
alarm on discovering that the mariners deemed their
position perilous; and the Earl, on learning how
matters stood, appeared on deck, and summoned the
master of the ship.

‘In wonder’s name, skipper,’ said he, sternly, ‘ how
happens this?’

‘In truth, my lord earl,’ replied the skipper,
much perplexed, ‘I cannot tell how it happens; but
this I know, that we all run great risk of our lives.’

‘In what way?’

‘From the Saracens of Barbary, who are cruel and
savage, and who are aS likely as not to come down in
swarms and attack us.’

The idea of captivity and chains occurred to every
one who listened, and even the Earl changed coun-
tenance. At that moment, however, one a the chap-
lains stepped forward. He was a discreet churchman,
and his words were ever treated with high respect.
52 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

‘My lord earl and gentlemen,’ said the chaplain;
‘I never remember any distress in our parish, either
from too much abundance or from want of rain, or
from any other plague, but that God delivered us
from it, and caused everything to happen as well as
could have been wished, when a procession had been
made three times with devotion on a Saturday.’ |

‘Wherefore,’ suggested the Earl, ‘ you would have
us do likewise, as deeming the ceremony likely to
deliver us from our peril ?’

‘Even so,’ continued the churchman. ‘I recom-
mend, noble Earl, that, as this day is Saturday, we
instantly commence walking in procession round the
masts of the ship.’

‘By all means,’ replied the Earl, ‘let us forth-
with walk in procession as you recommend. Worse
than foolish would it be on our parts to neglect such
a ceremony. A simple remedy, on my faith, for such
an evil.’

Accordingly, the skipper issued orders through
the ship; and all on board were assembled on deck,
and, headed by the priests, solemnly walked in pro-
cession round the masts, singing as they walked;
and, however it came to pass, the ceremony seemed
to have the effect which the chaplain had _prog-
nosticated. From that moment everything went
smoothly. Almost immediately afterwards they lost
sight of the mountain, and cast all fear of the Saracens
of Barbary to the winds; and ere long they had the
gratification of hearing the ery of ‘Land, and of
seeing before their eyes the far-famed island of
Cyprus.
CYPRUS. 53

It was latest autumn, however; and Cyprus did
not look by any means so bright and beautiful as the
Boy Crusaders had, during the voyage, anticipated.
Indeed, clouds rested over the range of mountains
that intersects the island lenethways. The rain had
fallen somewhat heavily, and the aspect of the place
was so decidedly dismal and disheartening, that, as
the two squires landed, their countenances expressed
much disappointment.

‘Now, by St. Jobn of Beverley,’ exclaimed Guy,
giving expression to his feelings, ‘I marvel much
that this lovely queen, Venus, of whom minstrels
have sung so much, should, when she doubtless had
her free choice as to a residence, have so highly
favoured this place.

‘Tastes differ,’ replied Walter, rather gloomi'y.
‘Certainly, had I my choice of a residence, I should
fix my abode elsewhere.’

‘But what have we here?’ cried Guy, as he
pointed to countless casks of wine piled high, one on
the other, and to huge heaps of wheat, barley, and
other grains, which the purveyors of King Louis had
some time before prepared for his grand enterprise.
‘ Beshrew me, if, at a distance, I did not imagine the
casks of wine to be houses, and the heaps of corn
mountains.’

‘Anyhow,’ observed Walter, ‘the sight of the
wine and the corn should give us comfort; for it is
clear that the King of France, however saintly, does
not forget that men have mouths, nor mean his
army to die of hunger or thirst.’

‘On my faith,’ said Guy, ‘I have a strong desire

D
54 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

to catch a glance of this miracle of saintliness. [
marvel if he rides about Cyprus on a Spanish steed,
magnificently harnessed, as chronicles tell of Richard
Ceur de Lion doing, dressed in a tunic of rose-
coloured satin, and a mantle of striped and silver
tissue, brocaded with half moons, and a_ scarlet
bonnet brocaded with gold, and wearing a Damascus
blade with a golden hilt in a silver sheath — oh,
what a fine figure the English king must have cut!’

‘ However,’ said Walter, ‘I fancy King Louis is
not quite so splendid in his appearance as Coeur de
Lion was. But we shall see him ere long.’

‘Ay,’ cried Guy; ‘we must have a peep at the
royal saint. Meanwhile, good Walter, one thing is
certain — that we are in Cyprus.’
CHAPTER IX.
AN ADVENTURE.

[’ was not the good fortune of all the warriors who
had taken the Cross to escape the perils of the
deep, and reach Cyprus in safety.

About a month after Guy Muschamp and Walter
Espec had reached Limisso, a tall ship bearing a
Crusader of noble name, who had left Constantinople
to combat the Saracens under the banner of St.
Denis, was sailing gallantly towards Cyprus, when
a violent storm arose, and threatened her with
destruction. ‘The wind blew fiercely; the sea ran
mountains Ingh; and, though the ship for a time ©
strugoled sturdily with the elements, she could
not resist her fate. Her cordage creaked, and her
timbers groaned dismally; and, as she was by turns
borne aloft on the waves crested with foam and
precipitated headlong into the gulphs that yawned
between, great was the terror, loud the wailing, and
frightful the turmoil. Im vain the mariners exerted
their strength and skill. No efforts on their part
could enable the vessel to .resist the fury of the
tempest. |

very minute matters became more desperate.
56 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

The sea, recently calm, seemed to boil from its very .
depths ; and the ship, incessantly tossed to and fro by
the roaring billows, appeared, every moment, on the
point of being engulphed. The skipper was lost in
consternation; the Crusaders gave way to despair;
and with death staring them in the-face they ceased
to hope for safety, and, kneeling, confessed to each
other, and prayed aloud that their sins might be
forgiven. At length, in spite of the efforts made by
the mariners to resist the winds and waves, the ship,
driven on the rocks near the island, filled with water,
went to pieces, leaving those on board to struggle as
they best might to escape a watery grave. The
struggle was vain. Many, indeed, caught hold of the
vessel’s timbers with a vague hope of reaching the
shore; but, unable to contend with the elements,
they, one after another, disappeared and sank to
rise no more.

Now this terrible shipwreck was not without
witnesses. On that part of the coast of Cyprus
where it occurred was a rude hamlet chiefly tenanted
by fishermen ; and men, women, and children crowded
the beach, uttering loud cries, and highly excited,
but unable to render any assistance. It seemed that
no boat could live in such a sea; and the fishermen
could only gaze mournfully on the heartrending
scene, as the waves sprang up and rapaciously
claimed their prey. :

It was while the sea, agitated by the gale, was
still running high; while the waves were leaping,
and tearing, and dashing against the rocks; and-
while flocks of sea birds wheeled and screamed over
A SPECK ON THE OCEAN. 57

4

the troubled waters, that a knight and two
squires, who, having been caught in the storm,
while riding towards Limisso, reined up, and not
without difficulty learned from the natives, whose
language they scarcely comprehended, the nature
and extent of the disaster. The knight was an
I’nglish Crusader, named Bisset, who had taken
service with King Louis; the squires were Walter
spec and Guy Muschamp. All three, as they
became aware of what had happened, crossed them-
selves and breathed a prayer for the souls of those
who had gone to their account.

“We may as well ride on,’ said Guy Muschamp,
who, like his companions, was very much affected;
‘all of them have perished, and are now beyond the
reach of human aid.’

‘Not all of them,’ exclaimed Walter Espec, sud-
denly, as he sprang from his horse, and, with out-
stretched arm, pointed to a white object which was
carried hither and thither by the waves.

‘By the might of Henry, sir squire, you are right,
cried the English knight, highly excited; ‘it is a
woman, as I live, and she is clinging to one of the
ship’s timbers.’

‘And she may yet be saved,’ said Walter, calmly;
‘and by the Holy Cross the attempt must be made,
if we are to escape the reproach of inhumanity and
cowardice.’ |

And now the men, women, and children on the
beach became much excited, and shouted loudly.
No one, however, volunteered to go to the rescue.
In fact, the aspect of the sea was so menacing and
58 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

terrible, that the boldest and hardiest of the sea-
faring men felt that an attempt could only end in
the destruction of those making it, and shook their
heads with a significance there was no misunder-

standing. ae
‘It seems,’ said the knight, mournfully, ‘ that th
business is desperate; and yet ——-’

‘And yet,’ said Walter, taking up the word as the
knight hesitated and paused, ‘it shall never be told
that a woman perished before my eyes, and that I
stood looking on, without making an effort to save
her.’.

‘He is mad,’ muttered the fishermen, as they
first eyed the English squire, and then exchanged
glances with each other, and shrugged their shoul-
ders.

But Walter Espec did not ponder or pause.
Throwing his bridle-rein to Guy Muschamp, whose
countenance expressed grave alarm, he quickly
divested himself of his mantle and the belt bearing
his sword, committed himself to the protection of
Hfoly Katherine, the patron saint of his house,
plunged into the water, and next moment was bat-
tling manfully with the waves. But everything was
against him, even the tide; and, in spite of his skill
as @ Swimmer, his efforts were at first abortive. But
it was not his nature to yield easily ; and, as he put
forth all his strength, and made a desperate struggle,
the affair began to wear another face.

‘Good Walter,’ murmured Guy, who stood, pale
as death, watching the swimmer. < Brave Walter!’ |

“Now, may our lady, the Virgin, aid and prosper
THE RESCUE. out 59

bim,’ exclaimed the knight. ‘ Never have I witnessed
a bolder attempt.’

As the knight spoke, a loud cheer burst from the
crowd; and then there was silence. Walter drew
nearer and nearer to the woman, for whose life he
was freely venturing his own. In another minute
he clutched her with one hand, turned towards the
shore, and, favoured by the tide, came sailing towards
the spot which the crowd occupied.

A dozen of the men dashed knee-deep into the

water to relieve Walter of his burden; and as they
did so, a dozen of the women stretched out their
hands, and received the still unconscious form of
her who had been rescued ; meanwhile the knight and
Guy Muschamp caught hold of Walter, who, fatigued
and overcome with his almost superhuman exertions,
~ would otherwise have fallen to the ground. How-
ever they laid him down carefully to rest; and, while
Guy stood watching over him, Bisset went to look to
the safety of the damsel who had been rescued.

‘Sir squire,’ said he, with enthusiasm, as he re-
turned, ‘you have done as noble a deed as it has ever
been my fate to witness, and the King of France shall
hear of it, as I am a living man; and,’ continued he, in
a whisper, ‘hearken! you may at the same time con-
eratulate yourself on having a the good luck to
save a woman well worth saving.’

‘What mean you, sir knight, asked Walter,
Lays

‘Simply this— that she is young, fair to behold,
and evidently of high lineage.’
60

CHAPTER X.

ON THE LADDER OF LIFE,

OUR days passed over, and Walter Espec, quite
recovered from the effects of his struggle with
the waves, and of the salt water he had involuntarily
imbibed during his perilous adventure on the coast
of Cyprus, was at Nicosia, and engaged in chivalrous
exercises, in the courtyard of the house occupied by
the Earl of March; when he was accosted by Bisset,
the English knight, who had been a witness of his
daring exploit, and requested to repair to the presence
of the King of France.

Walter was somewhat taken by surprise and startled
by the summons. Recovering his serenity, however,
as well as he could, he intimated his readiness; and
with the air befitting a Norman gentleman who had
existed from childhood in the consciousness that his
name was known to fame, and who did not forget
that he had noble blood of Icingla in his veins, he
accompanied the knight to the palace in which the
saint-king was lodged.

At that time, Louis, not much satisfied with him-
self for having consented to winter in Cyprus, though
little dreaming of the terrible misfortunes that awaited
THE LORD OF JOINVILLE. 61

his army in the land for which he was bound, was
seated at table and endeavouring to forget his cares,
while conversing familiarly with a young and noble-
looking personage of great strength and stature, with
a head of immense size, and a countenance beaming
with sagacity. In truth this was a very remarkable
personage. Ele was then known as John, Lord of
Joinville, and seneschal of Champagne; and he has
since been famous as the chronicler of the triumphs
and disasters of the Crusade in which he acted a
conspicuous part.

‘Seneschal,’ said Louis, addressing Joinville, ‘I
marvel much that you do not mix water with your
wine.’

‘In truth, sire,’ replied Joinville, half jocularly, «I
fear so to do; for physicians have told me I have go
large a head, and so cold a stomach, that: water might
prove most injurious.’

‘Nevertheless,’ said Louis, earnestly, ‘ be advised
by me, and do not allow yourself to be deceived.
If you do not drink water till you are in the decline
of lite, you will then increase any disorders you may
have.’

‘But, sire,’ asked Joinville, mnnocently, ‘ why
should I drink water then more than now ?’

‘Ah,’ answered Louis, ‘ simply because if you
take pure wine in your old age, you will be fre-
quently intoxicated; and verily it is a beastly thing
for an honourable man to make himself drunk.’

‘I acknowledge that it is very wrong, sire,’ said
Joinville; ‘but I am one of those who endeavour
to practise moderation in the. use of the wine-cup.’
62 | TIE BOY CRUSADERS.

‘And pray, seneschal,’ asked Louis, after a pause,
‘may I ask if you ever wash the feet of the poor ?’

‘Oh, sire, no,’ answered Joinville, not without
evincing surprise. ‘I hardly deem that it would —
become such a person as I am.’ |

‘In truth, seneschal,’ exclaimed Louis, ‘this is
very ill said. You ought not to think that unbe-
coming which He, who was their Lord and Master,
did for our example when He washed the feet of
His apostles. I doubt not you would very unwil-
lingly perform what the King of England does; for
on Holy Thursday he washes the feet of lepers.’ |

‘Oh, sire,’ cried Joinville, in a conclusive tone,
‘never will I wash the feet of such fellows.’

‘Now, seneschal,’ resumed Louis, still more se-
riously, ‘let me ask you another question. Whether
would you be a leper, or have committed a deadly
sin ?’ |

‘Sire,’ answered Joinville, frankly, ‘rather than
be a leper, I would have committed thirty deadly
sins.’

‘How could you make such an answer?’ said
Louis, reproachfully.

‘Sire,’ exclaimed Joinville, with decision, ‘if I
were to answer’ again, I should repeat the same
thing.’

‘Nevertheless,’ urged Louis, with earnestness,
‘you deceive yourself on the subject; for no leprosy
can be so awful as deadly sin, and the soul that is
guilty of such is like the devil in hell.’

It was when the conversation between the King
of France and the Lord of Joinville had reached
HE SAINT-KING, 63

this stage, that Walter Espec, guided by the English
knight, made his appearance, not without exhibiting
symptoms of agitation when he found himself face
to face with the monarch, who, of all the princes of
Christendom, enjoyed, at that period, the highest
reputation in Europe and the East.

But the appearance and aspect of Louis were not
such as to daunt or dismay.

Nothing could have been more plain and simple
han the dress worn by the royal chief of the crusaders.
Indeed it was plain and simple to affectation; and
the coat of camlet, the surcoat of tyretaine, the
mantle of black sandal, contrasted remarkably with
the splendid garments of princes who were his con-
temporaries, especially Henry, King of England,
who, like most of the Plantagenets, was given to
magnificence of attire, and generally regarded as by
far the greatest dandy in his dominions. Nor had
Louis been endowed by nature with the qualities
which please the eye and impress the imaginaticn.
His figure, itis true, was tall and well proportioned ;
but his face and features were not calculated to
dazzle. When compared with men of such noble
presence and regal air as our English Edwards and
Henrys, he was decidedly plain. He had the pecu-
liar face and slanting features which distinguished so
many of the descendants of Hugh Capet, and that
large long straight nose, which, instead of keeping
the Greek facial line, inclined forward, and hung
slightly over the short upper lip. Not even flattery
could have described the saint-king as a model of
inanly beauty. |
64 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

Now it happened that Walter Espec had never
before seen a king, and was prepared to behold
something very grand, like Coeur de Lion, with his
scarlet bonnet, his rose-coloured tunic, and his mantle
of striped silver tissue, and his Damascus blade |
with a golden hilt in a silver sheath. Naturally,
therefore, he was at the first glance somewhat dis-
appointed with the appearance of the monarch in
whose presence he stood. But as Louis turned upon
him a countenance which, albeit not beautiful, de-
noted energy and decision of character, and expressed
at once goodness and good-nature, and high moral
and intellectual superiority, the youth, whose in-
stincts were strong, felt that he was in the presence
of a nian who was worthy of reigning. |

‘Young gentleman,’ said Louis, mildly, as Walter
bent his knee, ‘it has come to my knowledge that
you have performed an action noble in itself, and
worthy of the praises of the valiant.’

‘Sire, replied Walter, colouring, and speaking
with less than his wonted confidence, ‘I scarce know
to what your highness is pleased to refer.’

‘Ah,’ said Louis, glancing towards the Lord of
Joinville, ‘I can hardly credit your words. But
such modesty is becoming in youth. However, I
mean that, four days since, as I learn, you saved a
noble demoiselle from the sea, at the most manifest
peril to your own life.’ |

Walter bowed in ceeded of the com-
pliment, but did not speak.

‘Not,’ continued Louis hastily, ‘not that you
sould therefore be vainglorious, or puffed up with
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orthy of the praises of the valiant.”— p.

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noble in its
VALOUR AND PRUDENCE. 65

vanity, or think more highly of yourself than you
ought to think on account of your achievement,
however honourable; for I trust you know and feel
that, before our Maker, we are all but as potter’s clay.’

‘My lord,’ replied Walter, pausing in some per-

‘xity, ‘I would fain hope my ideas on the subject

-ever besuch as befit a Christian and a gentleman.’

Well, well,’ said Louis, hastily, ‘on that point I
meant not to express a doubt, and,’ added he, ‘seeing
that you give promise of being a preuhomme, I pray
€od. out of His goodness, that you may prove a
preuchomme as well as a preuhomme.’

‘Sire,’ said Walter, looking puzzled, ‘you must
pardon me when I confess that 1 comprehend not
clearly the distinction.’

‘Ah,’ replied Louis, smiling, and shaking his head
oravely, ‘the distinction is of much consequence;
for know that by preuhomme I mean a man who
is valiant and bold in person, whereas by preud-
homme I signify one who is prudent, discreet, and
who fears God, and has a good conscience.’

Walter bowed again; and, being at a loss for
words to answer, took refuge in silence. In fact, he
began to feel so awkward that he wished nothing so
fervently as that the interview would come to an
end; and Louis, after condescending to ask some
more. questions, and inculcate some more lessons,
dismissed him with words of encouragement, and
gifted him with an amulet in the form of a ring, |
which bore on it this inscription—

Who wears me shall perform exploits,
And with great joy return.
66 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

As Walter left the king’s presence to depart from
the palace, he turned to the knight who had been
his conductor.

‘On my faith, sir knight,’ said he laughing, but
rather nervously, ‘this reminds me more of the
adventures which in childhood I have heard related
by pilgrims and pedlars at the chimney-corner, than
aught I ever expected to meet with in the real
breathing busy world.’

‘Indeed,’ said bisset, quietly; ‘ methinks there is
nothing so very wondrous about the business. It
only seems to me that you have been born with luck
on your side—not my own case—and that you have,
without hazarding more than you are likely to do |
in the first battle with the Saracens, gained the
privilege of climbing some steps up the ladder that
leads to fortune and fame.’

‘And yet,’ observed Walter, as he laughed and
looked at the ring which Louis had bestowed on
him, ‘ beshrew me if I have had the courage to ask
either the rank or name of the demoiselle to whom
I had the fortune to render the service that has
made my existence known to this good and pious
king.’ |

‘By the might of Mary, exclaimed the knight,
‘there is no reason why you should remain in
ignorance who the demoiselle is, or what is her
name. She is kinswoman of John de Brienne, who,
in his day, figured as King of Jerusalem, and kins-
woman also of Baldwin de Courtenay, who now
reiens at Constantinople as Emperor of the Kast 5
ei her name is Adeline de Brienne,’
ON THE LADDER OF LIFE. 67

‘Holy Katherine,’ muttered Walter, again looking
closely at the inscription on the ring, as if for
evidence that the whole was not a dream, ‘I begin
to think that I must assuredly have been born with
luck on my side, as you say; and, with such luck on
my side, I need not even despair of finding the
brother I have lost.’

‘Credit me, at all events,’ said Bisset, looking
wise, ‘when I tell you that von have got upon the
ladder of life.’
68

CHAPTER XI.
THL VOYAGE.

T was the Saturday before Pentecost, in the year
1249, when the fleet of King Louis and the
armed pilgrims, consisting of no fewer than eighteen
hundred vessels, great and small, issued gallantly
from the port of Limisso, and steered towards
Kgypt.

At first nothing could have been more gay and
pleasant than the voyage of the Crusaders. It
seemed as if the whole sea, so far as the eye could
reach, was covered with cloth and with banners of
bright colours. Everything appeared promising.
The voyage, however, was not destined to prove
_ prosperous. Suddenly the wind, which had been
favourable, changed, and blew violently from the
coast of Egypt. Great confusion was the conse-
quence; and, though the Genoese mariners exerted
all their skill, the fleet was utterly dispersed.
Indeed, when King Louis, having put back, reached
Limisso, he found, to his horror, that not more than
two-thirds of the armed pilgrims remained in his
company. Concluding that his companions had
been drowned, the saintly monarch was grieved
WILLIAM LONGSWORD. 69

beyond measure, and on the point ot giving way to
despair.

It happened, however, that while Louis was
mourning over the mishap, William Longsword, Earl
of Salisbury, arrived at Cyprus with the English
Crusaders, and administered some degree of conso-
lation. In truth, Longsword was just the man to
explain all in the most satisfactory manner. Having
been accustomed from his youth to cross the narrow
seas, he felt none of that vague terror of the ocean
which made the French knights, when they embarked,
invoke the protection of the saints; and he expressed
his opinion that, in all probability, the missing vessels
were safe on the Syrian coast. But the indifference
which the earl showed for dangers at which the
French trembled had the effect of making him
many enemies, and arousing the natural jealousies
which afterwards proved so baneful to the expe-
dition.

It ought to be borne in mind, that at the period
of St. Louis’s crusade there existed no love between
the nobles of France and the nobles of England; and
it appears that the French were in the habit of
treating the English with some degree of scorn. Nor
was it unnatural that such should have been the case;
for, during half a century, in almost every struggle
between the kingdoms, the French had been victo-
rious. Philip Augustus, after holding his own against
Richard Coeur de Lion, had succeeded in driving
John from the continent; and Louis, when forced to
take the field against Henry, had pursued his royal
brother-in-law from the bridge of Taillebourg to the

E
70 THE BOY CRUSADERS,

gates of Bordeaux. Remembering such triumphs,
the French, who have in all ages~been vain and |
boastful, were continually vaunting about their
prowess, and repeating the story of some Englishman
having cut off the tail of Thomas 4 Becket’s horse,
and of Englishmen having ever after that outrage
been born with tails like horses.

Such being the state of affairs, the Earl of Salis-
bury did not inspire the French nobles with any
particular affection for him and his countrymen who
had arrived at Cyprus, when they heard him speak-
ing lightly of the dangers of the sea. In fact, the
French lords, who a few hours earlier had been sink-
ing under sea-sickness, trembling at the sound of
raging billows, and wishing themselves safely in
their own castles, cursed *‘ Longsword,’ as the worst
of * English tails.’

But the King of France did not share the malice
of his countrymen; and, much comforted by the
words of the English earl, he resolved on again
tempting the sea. Accordingly, on Monday morning,
he ordered the mariners to spread their sails to the
wind. The weather proving favourable, the fleet
made gallantly for the shores of Egypt; and on the
morning of Thursday, about sunrise, the watch on
deck of the vessel that led the van, shouted * Land!’

‘Surely, not yet,’ exclaimed several voices; but
the pilot to make certain ascended to the round-top
of the vessel.

‘Gentlemen,’ cried the pilot, it is all right. We
are before Damietta, so you have nothing to do but
to recommend yourselves to God.’
THE EMIR FAKREDDIN. 71

‘Hurrah!’ shouted the mariners; and from ship
to ship the tidings passed; and, as the words of the
pilot flew from deck to deck, a cry of joy burst
from thousands of lips. Great was the excitement
that prevailed; and the chiefs of the expedition
hastily arrayed themselves to go on board the king’s
ship and hold a council of war.

And now all eyes were turned towards the shore;
enl it seemed that the Crusaders were likely to en-
counter a desperate resistance in any attempt to
Jand. A fleet and formidable engines of war de-
fended the mouth of the Nile. A numerous army of
horse and foot appeared on the beach, as if bent on
contesting every inch of ground. At the head of this
mighty host, wearing armour of burnished gold,
figured the Emir Fakreddin, one of the foremost
of Saracen warriors. From the midst trumpets and
drums sounded a stern defiance to the armament of
the Christians. But, undaunted by the aspect of
affairs, the armed pilgrims steadily pursued their
course ; and ship after ship, moving calmly forward,
anchored within a mile of the shore.

Meanwhile, the pilgrims, princes, and nobles, had
reached the king’s ship; and Louis, leaning on his
sword, received them with satisfaction on his coun-
tenance.

‘Gentlemen,’ said he, ‘our voyage has not been
without its perils, but let us be thankful that we are
at length face to face with the enemies of Christ.’

‘Yes, sire,’ said the chiefs, ‘and it is therefore
expedient to form some plan of action.’

‘And, under the circumstances,’ added several, ‘ it
72 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

wil be prudent to await our comrades who have
been separated from us by the tempest.’ |

It soon appeared that among the chiefs there was
a general wish to await the coming of their missing
comrades; but the king was young, and the drums
and horns of the Saracens had so chafed his pride
that ke would not hear of delay.

‘We have not come hither,’ said he, excitedly, ‘ to
listen to the insults of our enemies; nor have we
any port in which to shelter from the wind. A
second tempest may disperse what remains of our
fleet. To-day God offers us a victory; another day
He may punish us for having neglected to conquer.’

‘Sire, be it as you will,’ replied the assembled
chiefs, not caring to debate the point with their
king.

And so, with much less deliberation than was
necessary under the circumstances, and without duly
considering the resources of the enemy whom they had
to combat, King Louis and the chief Crusaders re-
solved to disembark on the morrow and give battle.
Meantime a strict. watch was maintained, and several
swift vessels were despatched towards the mouth of
the Nile to observe the motions of the Saracens.

It happened that the Saracens, in spite of their
dauntless show, were by no means in the best mood
to make an obstinate resistance, nor were they in
any sanguine mood as to the result of their prepa-
rations. At such a crisis, the presence of the sultan
was necessary to sustain their spirits, and stimulate
their fanaticism. |

Now at that time Melikul Salih was Sultan of
MELIKUL SALIH. 73

Egypt; but he was not at Damietta, and his absence
caused much uncertainty and dismay among the
warriors assembled to defend his dominions. Meli-
kul Salih was then at Cairo; and almost every man
in Fakreddin’s army knew that Melikul Salih was

dying.
CHAPTER XIL
AT DAMIETTA.

BOUT a mile from the sea, on the northern bank
of the second mouth of the Nile, stood the
city of Damietta, with its mosques, and palaces, and
towers, and warehouses, defended on the river side
by a double rampart, and on the land side by a
triple wall. Fair and enchanting to the eye was the
locality in which it was situated ; and as the Crusaders
directed their gaze towards the groves of oranges
and citrons, loaded with flowers and fruit, the woods
of palms and sycamores, the thickets of jasmines
and odoriferous shrubs, the vast plains, with pools
and lakes well stocked with fish, the thousand canals
intersecting the land, and crowned with papyrus anc
reeds, they, feeling the influence of a rich climate
and a beautiful sky, could not find words sufficiently
strong to express their admiration and delight.
‘Now, good Walter,’ said Guy Muschamp, as the ©
brothers-in-arms, having ascended to the castle of
the ‘ Hilda,’ looked earnestly towards the shore,
‘who can deny that such a land is worth fighting to
conquer ?’ ,
‘On my faith,’ exclaimed Walter Espec, with en-
ASPECT OF DAMIETTA. 75

thusiasm, ‘it is so pleasant to the eye, that I could
aimost persuade myself I am looking upon that ter-
restrial paradise in which the father and mother
of mankind lived so happily before eating the fatal
apple.’

No wonder, when such was the aspect of the country
around Damietta, that the armed pilgrims were im-
patient to land.

And no time was lost; for, of all the armed pil-
erims, King Louis was perhaps the most eager to
encounter the enemies of his religion; and, soon
aiter daybreak, on the morning of I'riday, a signal
was given for the fleet to weigh anchor and draw
near to the shore.

Meanwhile the Saracens, under the Emir Fak-
reddin, were on the alert; and while a bell, that had
remained in the great mosque of Damietta ever
since John de Brienne seized the city in 1217, tolled
loudly to warn the inhabitants of the danger, the
Moslem warriors got under arms, and with cavalry
and infantry occupied the whole of that part of the
strand at which the Crusaders had resolved to dis-
embark.

But the armed pilgrims were nothing daunted by
the sight of the formidable preparations made to
oppose their landing. Getting into barques which
had been provided for the purpose, they prepared to
fight their way ashore, in defiance of all dangers.
Ranging themselves in two lines, with their lances in
their hands, and their horses by their sides, the
knights and nobles stood erect in their boats, while
in front, and on the wings of the armament, were
76 TIE BOY CRUSADERS.

placed crossbowmen to harass and keep off the foe.
Nor did Louis in that hour appear in any way un-
worthy to be the leader of brave men. Attended by
his brothers and his knights, the King of France,
arrayed in chain-mail, with his helmet on his brow,
his shield on his neck, and his lance in his hand,
figured prominently on the right of his array. By
his side stood the cardinal legate; and in front of
him was a boat in which the oriflamme, brought
from the abbey of St. Denis, was proudly dis-
played.

It was an exciting occasion, and the hearts of the
saint-king and his mailed comrades beat high as
the barques moved onward to the Egyptian strand.
The warriors, standing steady and silent as graven
images, gazed earnestly on their multitudinous foes.
For a time no attempt was made to oppose their
progress. No sooner, however, were they within
bowshot, than a shower of arrows and javelins rattled
against the mail of the Crusaders. For a moment
the ranks of the Christian warriors were shaken.
But the crossbowmen, without the delay of an
instant, retaliated with damaging effect; and while
their shafts carried death into the Saracen host, the
rowers redoubled their efforts to reach the shore,
and bring Christian and Moslem hand to hand and
foot to foot. |

Again the silence was unbroken, save by the
plashing of oars and the tumultuous shock of the
barques pressing on in disorder. Ere long, however,
there was a loud shout. The Lord of Joinville,
closely followed by Baldwin de Rheims, had reaehed-
THE ORIFLAMME LANDED. Va

the shore; and they were setting their men in battle
order, and covering themselves with their shields,
and presenting the points of their lances to check
the impetuosity of the enemy.

And now King Louis lost all patience; and deem-
ing it no time to stand on his regal dignity, he leaped
from his barge, and plunging up to his shoulders in
the water, struggled towards the shore. Inspired by
his example, the Crusaders threw themselves into the
sea In a body, and pressed eagerly onward, with cries
of ‘Montjoie! St. Deriis!’ Again the silence was
unbroken, save by the clash of mail, the noise of
a dense crowd of armed men struggling with the
waves, which were so elevated by the rush, that
they fell and broke at the feet of the Saracens. In
a few moments, however, the oriflamme was landed,
and the saint-king, with the salt water running off
his armour, was on his knees giving thanks to God
for having preserved him and his companions from
the perils of the deep.

‘And now, gentlemen,’ said Louis, as he rose and
looked excitedly around him, ‘let us forthwith
charge our enemies in the name of God.’ .

‘ Be patient, sire,’ replied the knights, interfering ;
‘it is better to await the landing of our comrades,
that we may fight with advantage.’

Louis allowed himself to be persuaded; and it
speedily appeared that caution was necessary; for,
while the Crusaders were still struggling ashore in
disorder, the Saracen cavalry came down upon them
with an impetuosity which convinced the French
that their adversaries were not to be despised. But
78 THE BOY CRUSADERS. 4

Joinville and Baldwin of Rheims rendercd their
comrades good service. Hastily closing their ranks,
they contrived not only to stay the rush, but to
present so impenetrable a front, that the Saracens
retired baffled to prepare for a fresh spring.

And again, with an enthusiastic energy which
would have struck terror into antagonists less bold,
the Saracens under Fakreddin charged down upon
the Crusaders; and then began, all along the coast,
a confused conflict which raged for hours—Chris-
tian and Moslem fighting hand to hand; while the
two fleets engaged at the mouth of the Nile; and
the Queen of France and the Countess of Anjou,
and other ladies of high rank, who remained on
board at a distance, awaited the issue of the contest
with terrible anxiety, and, with priests around them,
sang psalms and prayed fervently for the aid and
protection of the God of battles. At length the con-
flict came to an end. Both on the water and on the
land the Crusaders were victorious. The Saracen fleet,
alter getting decidedly the worst of the combat,
escaped up the Nile; and the Saracen soldiers, beaten
and dispersed, retired precipitately, and flying in
contusion towards Damietta, abandoned their camp,
and leit several of their emirs dead on the field.

After witnessing the flight of the Saracens, Louis
ordered his pavilion, which was of bright scarlet, to
be pitched on the ground where he had conquered,
and caused the clergy to sing the Te Deum. The
Crusaders then set up their tents around that of the
king, and passed the night in rejoicing over the.
victory they had won.
DAMIETTA ABANDONED. a9

Nexf, day the Crusaders had still stronger reason to
congratulate themselves on the good fortune which
nad attended their arms. At daybreak, looking
towards Damietta, they observed that columns of smoke
were rising from the bosom of the city, and that the
whole horizon was on fire. Without delay the King
of France sent one of his knights and a body of
cavalry to ascertain the cause; and, on reaching
Damietta, the knight found the gates open, and
learned on entering that the Saracens, after setting
fire to that part called the Fonde, which was a row
of shops and warehouses, had abandoned the city.
Returning to the camp at a gallop, while his men
remained to extinguish the fire, the knight announced
the glad tidings to the saint-king.

‘Sire,’ said he, ‘I bring good news; Damietta may
be taken possession of without striking a blow.’

It was not very easy, even after hearing all, to
credit this knight’s report; and Louis was somewhat
suspicious of a stratagem. However, he gave orders
for marching towards the gates, and moving slowly,
and with much caution, took possession. It was
clear that the city had been abandoned by its
defenders; and the king, the cardinal legate, and
the clergv, having formed in procession, walked to
the grand mosque, which was speedily converted
into a Christian church, and sang psalms of praise
and thankseiving.

And now the Crusaders, with Damietta in their
nossession, were indeed elate, and rather inclined to
magnify their successes; and the Queen of France
end the Countess of Anjou, and the other ladies
8&0 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

were brought ashore and lodged in the palaces of
the city; and five hundred knights were charged
with the duty of guarding the ramparts and towers;
and the warriors of the Cross, encamping in the plain
outside the gates, gave themselves up to dissipation,
and deluded themselves with the idea that no enter-
prise was too difficult for them to accomplish.

‘Now,’ said the French, as they quaffed the red
wine and rattled the dice-box, ‘we have only to
await the coming of our companions from the coast
of Syria, and of the Count of Poictiers, with the
arriére ban of France, to undertake the conquest of
Egypt.’

‘Ay, said others, ‘and then let the Saracens and
their sultan tremble.’

‘Nothing,’ echoed a third party, ‘can withstand
the warriors of France, when animated by the presence
and example of their king.’

‘I dislike all this boasting,’ remarked Bisset, the
English knight, to Walter Espec and Guy Muschamp,
‘and, albeit I wish not to be thought a prophet of
evil, I predict that it will end in mischief and
disaster.’

‘The saints forbid,’ exclaimed Guy, gaily. ‘For
my part I dread nothing but the thought of being
devoured by some of the crocodiles which, men say,
are hatched in the waters of the Nile.’

‘Nevertheless, mark my words,’ said Bisset, more
gravely than it was his wont to speak. «At present
the Frenchmen believe that, because they have plied
their swords with some effect, that henceforth the
Saracens will fly before their scabbards. Now they
ENGLISH TAILS. 8]

are all singing songs of triumph; ere long, if you
and I live, we'll hear them singing to a very different
tune.’

‘Ah, sir knight,’ said Walter, smiling, ‘you say
this from national jealousy, and because they call us
* Knelish tails.” ’

‘* Knglish tails!” ” repeated Bisset, scornfully; «I
tell you, for your comfort, that when the hour of
real danger arrives, we “ English tails” are likely to
find our way so deep into the Saracens’ ranks, that
not a bragging Frenchman will venture to come nigh
the tails of our war-steeds.’

‘By St. John of Beverley,’ exclaimed Guy, laugh-
ing merrily, ‘I cannot but think that the French
and English Crusaders are already inclined to hate
each other much more than either French or English
hate the Saracens.’
CHAPTER XITI.
INCURSIONS.

ND what were the sultan and the Saracens
saying and doing while the Crusaders were
establishing themselves at Damietta, and delighting
their souls with visions of the conquest of Egypt ?
In order to ascertain we must, in imagination, pass
from the camp at Damietta to the palace of Cairo.
Melikul Salih was under the influence of a malady
which his physicians pronounced to be incurable.
On that point there was no mistake. Nevertheless,
when pigeons carried to Cairo intelligence of the
French king’s victory and Fakreddin’s defeat, the
sultan roused himself to energy, and, after having
sentenced fifty of the principal fugitives to execution,
and taken Fakreddin severely to task for allowing
his men to be vanquished, he caused himself to be
removed to Mansourah. On reaching that city,
Melikul Salih expended his remaining strength in
rallying his army and strengthening the fortifications,
and at the same time sent men to attack the Cru-
saders in their camp, to kill the Franks and cut off
their heads,—promising a golden besant for every
head brought to him. |

 
THE ARABS AND KARISMIANS. 83

The Arab cavalry of the Desert, and bands of
horsemen belonging to that wild nation known ag
the Karismians, were employed on this service; and
the Crusaders found themselves exposed to dangers
against which it seemed impossible to guard. As
wild animals prowl around the habitations of men on
the watch for prey, so around the Christian camp
prowled the Arabs and Karismians by day and by
night. If even at noon a soldier wandered from the
camp he was lost; and, in hours of darkness, sentinel
aiter sentinel disappeared, and knight after knight
was struck dead, as if by invisible hands. Every
morning the Crusaders had to listen to some new
tale of horror which made their blood run cold.

Ere the Arabs and Karismians had carried alarm
into the camp of the Crusaders, many of the warriors
of the West had begun to suffer from the climate of
Ikeypt; and among others who were prostrated, was
the old Earl of March. For a time he seemed likely
to fall a victim to the malady; but the natural vigour
of his constitution at length prevailed; and he had
clmost recovered, when a sudden inroad of the enemy
exposed him to a new peril.

It was the afternoon of an August day; and Earl
Patrick was arraying himself to ride into Damietta
to attend a council of war. His white charger stood
at the entrance of his pavilion, and there sat Walter
Espec, looking somewhat gloomy, as many of the
armed pilgrims were already doing, when Guy
Muschamp approached with a countenance from
which much of the habitual gaiety had vanished.

‘What tidings?’ asked Waiter, eagerly.
84 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

‘On my faith, good Walter,’ answered Guy, shaking
his head, ‘I now know of a truth that this Damietta
is not quite such a paradise as we fancied when
gazing at it from the sea.’

‘Serpents often lurk where flowers grow,’ said
Walter; ‘but what new tidings of mishap have
clouded your brow ?’

‘N othing less,’ replied Guy, ‘than that these foul
Saracens have been marvellously near us. No later
than last night they entered the camp, surprised the
watch of Lord Courtenay, and this morning his body
was found on the table; his head was gone.’

‘ By the saints!’ exclaimed Walter, ‘such warfare,
waged by invisible foes, may well daunt the bravest;
and albeit I trust much from the protection of the
Holy Katherine, yet I at times feel a vague dread of
being the next victim.’

At that moment, and almost ere Walter had
spoken, there arose loud and shrill cries, and then
loud shouts of alarm.

‘By good St. George!’ shouted Hugh Bisset, rush-
ing in, ‘ the Saracens are upon us; they are carrying
off the Lord Perron, and his brother the Lord Duval.
Arm, arm, brave squires. To the rescue! to the
rescue !’

As Bisset gave the alarm, the Earl of March came
forth. He was arrayed in chain-mail, and his helmet
was on his brow. 3

‘What, ho!’ cried the earl, with lofty indignation;
“do the sons of darkness, who worship Mahound and
Termagaunt, venture where my white lion ramps in -
his field of red? Out upon them! My axe and shield.’
A BRAVE OLD WARRTOR, 85

Monnting his white steed. the earl caused one of
the sides of his pavilion to be raised, and issuing
forth, spurred against the foe with shouts of ‘Let
him who loves me follow me! Holy Cross! Holy
Cross!’ Nor did the aged warrior confine his hostility
to words. Encountering the leader of the Saracens
face to face, he bravely commenced the attack, and,
after a brief conflict, with his heavy axe cleft the
infidel from the crown almost to the chest.

‘Pagan dog!’ exclaimed the earl, as the Saracen
felt lifeless to the ground; ‘I devote thine impure
soul to the powers of hell.’

But this achievement was the last which Earl
Patrick was destined to perform. As he spurred
forward to pursue his success, his steed became re-
fractory, and he was flung violently to the ground.
Ere his friends could come to his aid, the Saracens
gave him several blows with their clubs, and he
would have been killed on the spot but for the
arrival of Bisset, with Guy Muschamp and Walter
Espec, who, having mounted, now came with a rush
to the rescue. A sharp conflict then took place.
Guy, advancing as gaily as if he had been in the
tiltyard at Wark, gallantly unhorsed one Saracen
with the point of his lance. Walter, going more
gravely into the combat, killed another with his
falchion, at the use of which he was expert. After
much trouble the French lords were rescued ; and such
of the Saracens as had not fallen, fled, and galloped
along the banks of the Nile.

Meanwhile the squires and grooms of the Earl of
March raised him from the ground; and, supported

F
&6 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

by them, he contrived 10 reach his tent: but he was
much bruised, and so exhausted that he could not
muster voice to speak. When, however, surgeons
and physicians were called, they expressed themselves
hopefully, and, not comprehending his dangerous
state, bled him freely in the arm, and then adminis-
tering a composing draught, left him under the
charge of the squires.

As evening was falling, the Earl of Salisbury, after
a long conference with King Louis, during which the
unfortunate quarrel of the English and French Cru-
saders were discussed with a view of averting fatal
consequences, left the royal quarters, in company
with the Lord of Joinville.

ia or said Salisbury, ‘I would fain visit the
Karl of March; and I pray you to bear me com-
pany.’ :

‘Right cee replied Joinville; ‘for he is a
man of great valour and renown, and wise in council ;
and it were ill for our expedition if hig ees
should prove fatal.’

‘And how fares the earl?’ asked Salisbury, as they
reached the tent over which ramped that ancient
lion argent, so terrible on many a foughten field.

‘My lord,’ said Walter Espec, in a hushed voice,
as they came to the entrance, ‘the earl sleeps; so
pray tread softly, lest you should disturb his repose.’

They did so, and entering, found the earl lying on
his mantle of minever, which covered him.

‘He sleeps soundly,’ whispered Walter, looking up.

aes said Salisbury, anne ‘he sleeps the |

s:eep that knows no waking,’

ae
DEATH OF EARL PATRICK. 87

Walter stooped down, and perceived that Salis-
bury was right. The earl was dead.

‘May paradise be open to him,’ said Salisbury,
crossing himself with pious fervour.

‘Amen,’ said Joinville. ‘May his soul repose in
holy flowers.’
88

CHAPTER XIV.
A RENEGADE.

T was a sad day for Guy Muschamp and Walter
Espec, when they suddenly found themselves
deprived of the protection of the aged war-chief
under whose banner they had embarked for the East.
However, they were not long without patrons. Guy
attached himself to the Lord of Joinville, who was
his mother’s kinsman. Walter became squire to the
Karl of Salisbury, and in that capacity- joined the
Ienglish Crusaders. In fact, Longsword, having heard
from Joinville of Walter’s adventure at Cyprus, took
a decided liking to the young northern man, ex-
amined him as to his lineage, his parentage, and his
education, heard the sad story of his brother’s disap-
pearance, and spoke words of such kind encourage-
ment, that the tears started to Walter's eyes, and hig
brave heart was quite won.

One day, soon after entering Longsword’s service,
Walter was standing at the entrance of the tent
occupied by the chief of the English Crusaders, now
thinking somewhat sadly of the green fields and oak
forests of his native land, now longing to behold -
some of the wonders of the Nile, when a man of
BELTRAN, 89

forty or thereabouts, handsome and well-dressed as
a Frank, presented himself, and bowed low.

‘You are of the English nation?’ said he, in
French.

‘Yes,’ replied Walter, examining him with curi-
osity.

‘And you serve the great English lord, who is
called Longsword ?’

‘It is my pride to serve that famous warrior,
replied Walter, quietly.

‘And I would fain speak with him if you could
obtain me a hearing.’

Walter shook his head significantly.

‘ Before I can make such an attempt,’ said he, ¢ I
must learn who you are, and what you want.’

‘My name is Beltran. I am a Frank by birth,
but for nine years I have been an inhabitant of
Egypt.

‘Nine years!’ exclaimed Walter. ‘By the Holy
Cross, you must know the country well-nigh as in-
timately as the Lvyptians themselves.’

‘Much knowledge I do possess of the country,
and of the wonders it contains.’

‘Well,’ said Walter, ‘I will put your knowledge to
the test. Whence comes this river, the Nile, of
which so many stories are told? Is it true that it
takes its rise in the terrestrial paradise ?’

‘In truth,’ replied Beltran, ‘I would I could
answer your question to your satisfaction. It is the
report of the country that the Nile does come from
the terrestrial paradise. But nothing certain is
known on the subject. J have heard that the sultan
90 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

has attempted to jearn whence if, came, by sending —
experienced persons to follow the course ot it.’

‘Yes,’ said Walter, eageriy

‘ These persons, on their return,’ continued Beltran,
‘reported that they had followed the river till they
came to a large mountain of perpendicular rocks,
which it was impossible to climb, and over these
rocks fell the water. And it seemed to them that on
the top of this mountain were many trees; and they
saw strange wild beasts, such as lions, elephants, and
other sorts, which came to gaze at them. And, not
daring to advance further, they returned to the
sultan.’

‘And this is all that is known?’ said Walter.

‘Yes,’ replied Beltran. ‘Where the Nile enters
Egypt, it spreads in branches over the plain. One
of them flows to Damietta; a second to Alexandria ;
a third to Tunis; and a fourth to Rexi. About St.
Remy’s Day it expands itself into seven branches,
and thence flows over the plains. When the waters
retire, the labourers appear and till the ground with
ploughs without wheels, and then sow wheat, barley,
rice, and cumin, which succeed so well that nowhere
are finer crops.’

‘And whence,’ asked Walter, ‘comes this yearly
increase of water ?’

‘I cannot tell, except that it comes from God’s
mercy. Some say that this overflowing is caused by
heavy rains in Abyssinia; but many Arabs believe
that a drop of dew falls into the river, and causes
the inundation ; and some declare they have seen it
fall, like a star. ‘The nignt when it falls is called |
THE WATER OF THE NILE. Gl

the “drop-night.” But certain it is that, were it not
to happen, Egypt, from the great heat, would produes
nothing; for, being near the rising sun, it scarcely
ever rains, save at very long intervals.’

 $Of a truth, observed Walter, ‘all this sounds
strange to English ears.’

‘Where the river enters Egypt,’ continued Beitran,
‘there are expert persons, who may be called the
fishermen of this stream, and who, in the evening,
cast their nets into the water, and in the morning
frequently find many spices in them, such as ginger,
cinnamon, rhubarb, cloves, lignum-aloes, and other
good things, which they sell by weight.’

‘ But how come the spices into the water ?’ enquired
Walter. |

‘Well, it is the belief of the country that they
come from the terrestrial paradise, and that the
wind blows them down from these fine trees, as,
in your forests, the wind blows down the old dry
wood. But such is mere surmise, albeit widely
credited.’ .

‘And the water of the Nile is deemed sweet to the
taste?’ said Walter.

* None in the world more sweet. The Arabs hold
that, if Mahomet had once tasted it, he would have
prayed that he might live for ever, so as unceasingly
to enjoy its sweetness.’

‘And yet it seems so turbid to the eye?’

‘True; but, when the natives drink of it, it is
clear as crystal. ‘Towards evening, crowds come down
to get water, and: especially women, who, on such
occasions, are decorated with all the ornaments they
99 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

possess. You must understand that they come in
companies, because it is not deemed decorous for a
woman to go aione. And marvellous it is to see
how they balance the water-pots on their head, and
walk gracefully up steep banks which even you—
agile as you may be—might have some difficulty in
clambering up without any burden. Then they put
into their vessels almonds or beans, which they shake
well; and on the morrow the water is wondrous clear,
and more refreshing than the daintiest wine.’

‘On my faith !’ said Walter, ¢ all this is so curious
that, were it a time of truce, I should be.tempted to
adventure up this river and behold some of the
strange things of which you tell. But here comes
my lord.’ And, as he spoke, the Earl of Salisbury
rode up, and, while Walter held the stirrup, dis-
mounted.

Immediately the stranger stepped forward, and,
humbling himself, with respect offered Salisbury
some lard in pots, and a variety of sweet-smelling
flowers.

‘I bring them to you, noble earl,’ said the man,
in French, ‘ because you are cousin of Prince Richard,
who is called Earl of Cornwall, and because you are
nephew of the Crusader whose memory is held in
most respect and dread by the Saracens,’

‘OF whom speak you?’ asked Salisbury, a little
surprised. |

‘I speak of King Richard of England,’ was the
reply; ‘for he performed such deeds when he was
in the Holy Land that the Saracens, when their.
horses are frightened at a bush ur a shadow, ery
BELTRAN’S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF. 93

out, “ What! dost think King Richard is there?”
In like manner, when their children cry, their
mothers say to them, “Hush, hush! or I will bring
King Richard of England to you.” ’

‘On my faith!’ said the earl, looking more and
more surprised, ‘I cannot comprehend you; for,
albeit speaking French, and wearing the dress of
a Frank, you seem from your words to be an inha-
bitant of this country.’

‘It is true,’ replied the man, slowly. * You must
know that I am a Christian renegade.’

‘A Christian renegade!’ exclaimed Salisbury,
with pious horror. And then asked, ‘ But who are
you, and why became you a renegade?’

‘Well, it came to pass in this wise,’ answered the
man, frankly. ‘I was born in Poictiers, whence I
followed Richard, Earl of Cornwall, to the East, and
found my way to Egypt, where I have acquired some
wealth.’ |

‘But,’ demanded the earl, indignantly, ‘know
you not that if you were to die while leading your
present life, you would descend straight to hell, and
be for ever damned ?’

‘In truth,’ replied the man, ‘I know full well
that there is not a better religion than that of the
Christians. But what can Ido? Suppose I returned —
to it-and had to go back to France, I should assur-
edly suffer great poverty, and be continually re-
proached all my days, and be called “ Renegado!
renegado !”?

‘Even with that prospect you ought not to hesi-
tate,’ said the earl; ‘for surely it would be much
94 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

better to suffer the scorn of the world than await
your sentence in the day of judgment, when your
evil deeds will be a manifest, and damnation will
follow. |

‘ Nevertheless, protested the renegade, ‘I had
rather live at my ease, as I am, like a rich man,
than become an object of contempt.’

‘I cannot brook your presence,’ said the earl,
erowing very indignant: ‘ oe begone; I can
have no more to say to you.’

‘ Be not over-hasty,’ said the renegade; ; ‘for be it
known to you, noble Earl, that I have that to tell
which it will profit you much to know.’

‘Speak, then,’ said the earl, hesitating, * but be
brief; for my patience is not so long as was my
father’s sword.’

‘It is of a rich caravan I would speak,’ said the
renegade, with a glance and a gesture of peculiar
significance.

‘Ah!’ exclaimed the ear], pricking up his ears, and
listening with evident interest.

“It is on its way to Alexandria, and will pass with-
in six leagues of Damietta within four days,’ said the
renegade. ‘And whoever can capture that caravan
may gain an immense booty.’

‘And how does this concern me ?’ asked the earl.

‘My lord,’ replied the renegade,’ I see not where-
fore you should not seize the prize as well as another.’

‘But how am I to trust your report? How am I to
know that your intent is not to betray me?’ ;

‘My lord,’ answered the renegade, ‘I am in your
power. I will answer for the truth of my story with
A SELFISH GUIDE. $5

my head; and, I promise you, I am as yet neither
so old nor so weary of life as to hazard it needlessly.’

‘One question further,’ said the earl, who was by
this time much excited with the prospect of a rich
booty. ‘Howam I, beingina strange country, to find
this caravan of which you speak ?’

‘I myself will be your guide,’ replied the renegade.

‘And wherefore do you hazard so much to put me
in possession of this prize, when, by doing so, you
expose yourself to the enmity of the Egyptians,
among whom you have cast your lot?’

‘Well, my lord,’ said the renegade, after a pause,
‘J will be frank. I expect my share of the spoil; and,
besides, I see very clearly that this army of pilgrims
is likely to conquer Egypt, in spite of all the resist-
ance sultans and emirs may make; and, at such a
time, I would fain have some powerful lord among
the conquerors to befriend me.’

‘Ha!’ exclaimed Longsword, smiling grimly, ‘IT am
now convinced.’

‘Of what, noble earl ?’

‘Hither that I must bave the caravan or your

bead.’
96

CHAPTER XV.
CAPTURE OF A CARAVAN,

\ HILE King Louis lay at Damietta, awaiting the

arrival of Crusaders from France and Syria, ere
venturing to march into Egypt, the utmost disorder
began to prevail in the camp. The armed pilgrims,
left to inactivity in a delightful climate, under a
bright sky, and surrounded by beautiful scenery,
appeared once more to forget the oaths they had
taken, and indulged in still worse riot and debauchery
than when they wintered in Cyprus. Gambling was
their daily occupation; and the rattle of the dice-box
was constantly heard through the camp. And men
with the Cross of Christ upon their shoulders had
the name of the devil continually on their tongues,
Nor was this the worst. Vice reigned all around in its
grossest form ; and the saint-king complained mourn-
fully to the Lord of Joinville, that, within a stone’s-
throw of his own pavilion, houses of infamous repute
were kept by his personal attendants.

At the same time, the jealousy between the French
and English grew more and more intense, and threat-
ened disastrous consequences. In vain did Louis -
exert his influence to restrain the insolence of his
THE INSOLENT PRINCE. 97

enuntrymen. The English were constantly reminded
ot their inferiority as a nation, and exposed to such
insults as it was difficult to brook. Bitter taunts and
insinuations of cowardice were unhesitatingly used to
mortity the island warriors; and men who had dis-
obeyed their king’s mandate, and forfeited lands and
living to combat the Saracens, were, day by day, driven
nearer the conclusion that they would ere long be
under the necessity of drawing their swords against
their fellow-soldiers of the Cross.

Of all the French Crusaders, however, none were so
foolishly insolent as Robert, Count of Artois, brother
of King Louis. From a boy the French prince had
been remarkable for the ferocity of his temper, and
had early signalised himself by throwing a cheese at
the face of his mother’s chivalrous admirer, Thibault
of Champagne. For some reason or other, the Count
of Artois conceived a strong aversion to the Earl of
Salisbury, and treated Longsword with the utmost
insolence. And, though the Earl only retaliated by
glances of cold contempt, it was known that his pa-
tience was wearing away, and it was feared that there
would yet be bloodshed.

‘By my father’s sword !’ said he, speaking partly to
himself, partly to Walter Espec, one day after return-
ing to his tent, ‘I fear me that my spirit will not
much longer brook the reproaches of that vain prince.
IXven this day, as he spoke, my hand stole to the hilt
of my sword; and I panted to — him to mortal
combat on the spot.’

‘My lord,’ replied Walter, gravely and cautiously,
©! perceived that, albeit striving to be calm, you felt
98 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

your ancestral blood boiling in your veins. And, in
truth, I marvel not that such should have been the -
case; and yet

‘And yet Well, speak freely. I listen.’

‘Well, my lord,’ continued Walter, ‘I was about
to say that it seemed to me the part of a wise man,
and one so renowned in arms, not to deign to answer
a fool according to his folly.’

‘Doubtless you are right,’ replied the earl. “And
sinful, I feel, and calculated to provoke God’s ven-
geance, would it be to draw the sword against one
marked with the Cross, and engaged, like ourselves, in
this holy war. Nevertheless, my patience may come
to an end, as the patience of better men has done in
such cases. However, a truce to such talk for the pre-
sent; and see that, at daybreak, this renegade is ready
to guide us on our expedition after the caravan; for I
am weary of inactivity, and eager for change of scene.’

Accordingly, preparations for the expedition were
made; and, next morning, Salisbury and his knights
dashed away from Damietta to intercept the caravan
that was reported to be on its way to Alexandria.
For a time they waited patiently at a place where it
was expected to pass. But this mode of spending
time was not much to the taste of men whose spirits
were raised by the novelty of everything around.
Panting for action, Longsword left Walter Espec
with a band of horse and Beltran the renegade to
keep watch, and, at the head of his knights, went
off in quest of adventure.

Hours passed; evening fell and deepened into -

 

 

night; and still neither the caravan nor the warriors
 

Ny

Hs Ny ‘
i

pm
i
\

=—_.

ret ee

Na
|

 

‘LT eannot but think,” said Walter, “our post is one of danger, if the guards of
this caravan are so numerous as reported. Nevertheless, it shall never be told that, for
fear of odds, I retreated from a post which I had been entrusted to maintain.”—p. 99.

 

 
TIE CARAVAN APPHANTS. 99

who had determined to capture it made their ap-
pearance; and Walter and the renegade, for different
reasons, began to entertain considerable alarm. As
morning approached, however, one point was ex-
plained. In fact, a spy employed by Beltran reached
the rendezvous, with intelligence that the Earl’s in-
tention to attack the caravan having been suspected,
had caused the delay; but that, being aware that
he was out of the way, its guards were ‘preparing to
hasten forward at dawn of day, confidently hoping to
pass without being assailed, or to beat down any
opposition that might be offered to its progress.

‘On my faith,’ said Walter, as he learned how
matters were, ‘I cannot but think our post is one of
danger, if the guards of this caravan are so nume-
rous as reported. Nevertheless, it shall never be
told that, for fear of odds, I retreated from a post
which I had been entrusted to maintain.’ And he
proceeded to place his men in such a position that
they might elude the observation of the Saracens
till close at hand, and then rush out and take the
cuards of the caravan by surprise.

Meanwhile, day was breaking; and, in the distance,
Walter and his companions could descry the cara-
van, apparently guarded by a strong force; and
gradually the white turbans and green caftans and
long spears became more and more distinct. It
was clear that, in the event of Salisbury not return-
ing in time, Walter would have to fight against great
odds; and the return of the earl in time to aid him
now appeared so improbable that the squire ceased
even to hope for his banners, and resolved to take
1c0 Tix BOY CRUSADERS.

what fortune might be sent him. Suddenly, how-
ever, a sound—a whisper on the breeze, and the
heavy tread of horses—reached his ears; and, gazing
round, he descried a body of horsemen approaching
in the opposite direction from which the caravan came.

‘Now, may the saints be praised, and may we be
for ever grateful! exclaimed Walter, with a joyful
heart, as he closely examined the banner that ap-
proached ; ‘for here come my Lord of Salisbury and
his men of might.’

In a few minutes the Earl reached the spot, and,
rapidly comprehending the situation of affairs, pre-
pared for action. But there was hardly occasion to
strike a blow. No sooner did the English move
towards the caravan, and no sooner had the Saracens
an opportunity of judging what manner of men their
assailants were, than they halted in surprise, and
gave way to terror; and when the Earl, on his bay
charger, spurred forward, shouting his battle-cry,
they only waited long enough to discharge a shower
of arrows, and then fled like hares before the hounds.
Routed in every direction, they left the caravan to
its fate ; and the English, pausing from the fray, found
themselves in possession of oxen, buffaloes, camels,
mules, and asses, laden with gold and silver, and
silks and paintings.

‘And now for Damietta ! said Longsword; ‘ for this
is in truth a rich prize; and let us not risk the loss
of it by loitering on the way.’

And without waste of time — for a rescue was not
impossible -—. they secured their booty, and marched.
with what speed they could towards Damietta.
STORMING A CASTLE. LOL

‘Sir squire,’ said Lord Robert de Vere, riding up
to Walter Espec, whose conduct Longsword had com-
mended, ‘your position in the earl’s absence was
not quite so pleasant as a bed of roses.’

‘In truth, my lord,’ replied Walter, thoughtfully,
Snow that the danger is over, I cannot but deem
that you came just in time to save us from death or
captivity.’

‘And you marvelled that we tarried so long?’

‘Much,’ replied Walter; ‘and had given up all
hope of your return. However,’ added he, ‘I per-
ceive that your time was by no means wasted.’

‘You speak truly,’ said De Vere. ‘Never were
men more successful in an adventure. By accident,
we found ourselves hard by the castle of some
wealthy Saracen, and determined to seize it; so,
overcoming all resistance, we took it by storm, and
found therein much booty, and a bevy of Saracen
ladies; and, having given them to understand that
they were captives of our swords and lances, we are
carrying them to Damietta.’

‘On my faith!’ said Walter, laughing, ‘ Fortune
seems to bestow her favours liberally on the pilgrims
from England. No saying what great exploits my
Lord of Salisbury and his knights may yet perform !
One day we seize a castle and a caravan; another
day it may be a kingdom.’

‘ And yet,’ observed De Vere, the tone of his voice
suddenly changing as he spoke, ‘Iam seldom in soli-
tude without experiencing a vague feeling that cala-
mity is impending.’

Now this adventure, successful as it appeared,

G
102 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

involved the English Crusaders in serious troubles.
When Salisbury, on his bay charger, rode into
Damietta, with the captive Saracen ladies and the
captured caravan, the French were moved with envy,
and did not fail to express their sentiments in strong ©
language. Perhaps the English did not bear their
good fortune so meekly as they might have done. In
any case, the French grew more and more exas-
perated; and at length the quarrel reached such a
stage that the French, availing themselves of supe-
rior numbers, had recourse to violence, and forcibly
carried off part of the booty which, at great peril
and with some labour, Lengsword and his men had
won.
103

CHAPTER XVI.
A COUNCIL OF WAR.

N the morning after the return of the Earl of
Salisbury to Damietta, and the violent pro-
ceedings of the French Crusaders against the English
companions of their expedition, King Louis sum-
moned a council of war to deliberate on the measures
most likely to lead to the conquest of Egypt—the
grand object of the saintly monarch’s ambition.

By this time arrivals from various quarters had
swelled the army that, under the banner of St. Denis,
lay encamped at Damietta. Thither, under the
grand masters of their orders, had come the Tem-
plars and the Hospitallers, whose discipline and
knowledge of the East reudered them such potent
allies. Thither had come the Duke of Burgundy, who
had passed the winter in the Morea; and the Prince
of Achaia, who forgot the perils surrounding the
Latin empire of Constantinople, in his eagerness
“to combat the Moslem on the banks of the Nile;
thither, recovered from their fright, had come the
Crusaders whose vessels the storm had driven on the
Syrian coast; and thither, with the arriére ban of
France, Alphonse, Count of Poictiers—‘ one of that
104 THE BOY cuxUSADERS.

princely quaternion of brothers which came hither
at this voyage, and exceeded each other in some
quality —- Louis the holiest, Alphonse the subtlest,
Charles the stoutest, and Robert the proudest.’
No fewer than sixty thousand men—twenty thou-
sand of whom were cavalry-—-were now encamped
around the oriflamme; and with such an army, led
by such chiefs, the saint-king would have been more
than mortal if he had not flattered himself with the
hope of accomplishing something great, to be recorded
by chroniclers and celebrated by minstrels. |

And the princes and nobles assembled to hold a
council of war; and Louis, with his crown on his
brow, took his place to preside, with that serenc
dignity which distinguished him. But, ere the pro-
ceedings began, the Earl of Salisbury rose, and inti-
mated his desire to address the king on a subject of
great importance. Louis immediately signified con-
sent; and the earl, raising his hand to ensure
silence, proceeded with a calm but resolute air :—

‘Sire,’ said he, ‘I crave your pardon, and that of
the princes and noble warriors here assembled, for
trespassing upon their time. But I have that to
state which demands your attention and interference,
inasmuch as it nearly concerns the safety and welfare
and honour of the army of pilgrims, of which you
are the recognised chief. Sire,’ continued the earl,
‘however others may plead ignorance of the circum-
stances, you, at least, are fully informed and well
aware that, in taking the Cross, and coming from a
distant land to aid you in the recovery of the Holy»
Sepulchre, I made sacrifices of no ordinary kind.
INSULTS AND INJURIES. 105

My doing so exposed me to the wrath of King Henry,
my kinsman and liege lord, who took from me my
earldom and all my substance. This, however, he
did judicially, not im his anger, or any violence of
celf-will; and I do not blame him. But I came
hither with my countrymen, and we have fought as
faithfully for God’s cause as any man in your army.
Nevertheless we have been exposed to insults and
injuries which brave men cannot long tolerate. The
chief offender is your brother, the Count of Artois.
I lay my complaint before you, and I ask you to
judge between us. I promise to abide by your
decision, and, if I am found to be in the wrong, to
render every satisfaction for my fault. So help me
God, and good St. George !’

Louis listened with attention to the earl’s speech.
Indeed, the grandeur of Longsword’s aspect, and his
eloquence, so frank and so manly, produced a strong
impression both on the king and the assemblage,
and many of the French, notwithstanding their
prejudices, murmured approbation.

‘This English earl, said they, ‘speaks words of
truth and soberness, and he asks nothing more than
the justice that ought not to be denied to the meanest
man in the army of pilgrims.’

Louis, however, paused, and appeared to be in
extreme perplexity.

‘William Longsword,’ he said, at length, ‘you
have spoken boldly; and I do not deny that you
have spoken the truth. The Lord, who is ignorant
of nothing, is aware of the injuries you have suffered.
But what can I do? You know how serious an
106 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

aifair it would be for me to offend any of my nobles
in the position in which I now am, and it therefore
becomes you to exercise the patience becoming a
soldier of the Cross.’

And now the Count of Artois started up, his face
flushed and his limbs trembling with rage:

‘King,’ exclaimed he, in accents of menace, *‘ what
mean you by the words you have spoken? Do you
defend this Englishman and take part with him
against Frenchmen, who are of your own country
and kindred ?’

The countenance of Louis expressed more annoy-
ance than he was in the habit of exhibiting.

‘Now, Longsword,’ said he, turning with an im-
ploring look to the earl, ‘you see the position of
affairs, and how easily a quarrel might arise; and
God forbid it should occur in an army of Christians.
At such a crisis it is necessary to endure much for

the sake of Christendom.’

Sire,’ exclaimed Longsword, giving way to his
indignation, ‘if this is the only answer you can give
to my complaint, I advise you to call yourself no
longer a king; since you have no longer the privilege
of being obeyed, or of administering justice, or
punishing offenders.’ And rising with a dignity
which awed most of those present, he left the
council.

‘Frenchmen,’ said Louis, reproachfully, ‘why do
you persecute this man? What madness excites you?’

‘I do it,’ cried the Count of Artois, ‘because I
dislike the tailed English, and because I think the.
army of Crusaders would be well purged of them,’
ALEXANDRIA OR CAIRO. 107

But none present ventured to give the count the
support he seemed to expect; and the wise and
prudent bent their brows, and intimated their disap-
probation.

‘The matter is too serious to be lightly spoken of,’
said they, significantly ; ‘and this dispute is a sad
presage of future events; and well will it be if the
anger of the Most High is not provoked by such
offences.’

‘And now,’ said Louis, anxious to drop the sub-
ject, ‘let us to the business on which we assembled
to deliberate. Let us consult on the line of march,
and on the measures to be taken for completing the
conquest of Egypt.’

‘Sire,’ said John de Valery, a baron, whose pro-
bity and courage were the admiration of the army,
‘it seems to me that the best and safest policy is to
undertake the siege of Alexandria. That city has a
commodious port, where the fleet could find shelter,
and where munitions and provisions could be pro-
cured with facility. My voice, therefore, is for
marching to Alexandria.’ .

Many of those whose experience in war was
greatest—--among whom were the Master of the Temple
and the Master of the Hospital—echoed John de
Valery’s opinion.

‘For my part,’ said the Count of Artois, with his
characteristic rashness, ‘I dislike timid counse!s.
Why not at once attack Cairo, which is the capital
of Egypt? When you wish to kill the serpent,’
added he, ‘you ought always to endeavour to crush
his head. Then, I say, let us on to Cairo.’
108 TIE BOY CRUSADERS.

A warm and somewhat angry discussion ensued ;
and Louis, having given his opinion in favour of
marching to Cairo, the project was adopted: and it
was resolved to leave Queen Marearet, with the
Countesses of Artois, Poictiers, and Anjou, at
Damietta, to send the fleet with provisions and
engines of war up the Nile, and then to march with
banners displayed along the banks of the river.

‘Gentlemen,’ said Louis, as he dismissed the
council, ‘I feel assured that we shall have no reason
to repent adopting the bolder of the projects dis-
cussed this day; for, with an army of sixty thousand
men, and the blessing of God on our endeavours, I
see no reason to despair of accomplishing something
great against the enemies of Christ.’

‘Sire,’ replied John de Valery, ‘may God grant
that your hopes be realised.’

And the nobles and princes separated to make the
necessary preparations for marching to Cairo.

ittle did they foresee the terrible circumstances
under which many of them were to reach that city,
109

CHAPTER XVII.
FACE TO FACT.

HILE the Crusaders were preparing to leave
Damietta, march up the Nile, and attack
Cairo, Melikul Salih, after struggling desperately
with the great destroyer, yielded to his fate, and
breathed his last at Mansourah. The death of the
sultan was regarded by the emirs as most untimely;
for his son, Touran Chah, was then in Mesopotamia,
and they were apprehensive of the most serious
troubles. At this crisis, however, a woman, whose
great ability enabled her to comprehend the emer-
eency and to deal with it, suggested measures for
averting the ruin with which the empire of Egypt
was menaced.

Her name was Cheeger Eddour, and she is said to
have been an Armenian. She had originally been
brought to Cairo as merchandise, and purchased by
Melikul Salih as a slave. But her wit and beauty
won the sultan’s heart, and he became so enamoured >
that he elevated her to the position of favourite
sultana, and carried her about with him wherever he
went. One son whom she had by the sultan died
young. Nevertheless her influence daily increased ;
110 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

and the Arabian historians, while eloquent in praise
of her courage, agree in saying, that ‘no woman
surpassed her in beauty, and no man excelled her in
genius.’

No sooner did Melikul Salih depart this life, than
Chegger Eddour assembled the principal emirs at
Mansourah, and made them acknowledge Touran
Chah as sultan. Moreover, she impressed upon them
the necessity of concealing the death of her husband
till the arrival of his successor. The policy she re-
commended was adopted. Orders were still issued
in Melikul Salih’s name; the Mamelukes still
guarded the gates of the palace as if he had been
living; and prayers for his recovery were still offered
up in the mosques, where the Moslems worshipped.
All these precautions, which were the work of the
sultana, were skilfully taken, and for a time the
Saracens hoped that Melikul Salih might yet re-
cover from his malady, and save them from the foe
by whom they were threatened.

Ere long, however, suspicion was aroused, and it
became more and more difficult to conceal the truth.
Of itself this was sufficient to create consternation ;
but, at the same time, rumour brought to Mansourah
intelligence that the French, having left Damietta,
and marched in hostile array along the banks of the
Nile, had reached Pharescour; and the approach
of the Crusaders converted the consternation into
panic, which rapidly extended its influence to Cairo.
Every cheek grew pale; and the Egyptians exhibited
such anxiety and terror as had never before been.
felt in their cities.
ISLAMISM IN DANGER. 111

At this crisis, Fakreddin, to whom the sultana
had entrusted the command of the Egyptian army,
took measures to reanimate his countrymen with
courage and confidence, and called upon them to
hazard their lives freely for their religion.

‘In the name of God, and Mahomet his prophet,’
said the emir, ‘hasten, great and small—the cause of
God has need of your arms and of your wealth; the
Franks — Heaven curse them! —are arrived in our
country, with their standards and their swords. They
wish to obtain possession of our cities, and to ravage
our provinces. What Mussulman can refuse to
march against them, and avenge the glory of Is-
lamism ?’

But, at Cairo and Mansourah, the Egyptians only
answered with sighs and groans; and, at first,
Fakreddin’s appeal failed to produce the effect he
intended. The emir, however, was not dismayed,
Indeed, he showed a courage worthy of the fame he
had won by his military exploits, and gradually
rallied the more courageous of his countrymen
around him. Marching from Mansourah, he en-
camped at Djedilé, on the side of the canal known
as the Achmoun, whicb has a deep bed and steep
banks; and halted with the Nile on his left and the
city in his rear.

‘Here,’ said he, addressing his men, ‘I await the
invaders. Be brave; we will yet avenge Islamism ;
and on Sebastian’s-day I will dine in the scarlet tent
of the French king.’

Meanwhile, the Crusaders peated their march,
and they soon approached Mansourah. At _ this
i12 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

point, however, their progress was arrested by two
obstacles—the canal of Achmoun, and the army of
Takreddin.

‘Who is the leader of that army?’ asked Kine
JLouis, as he looked earnestly across the canal to
where the Saracens were encamped.

‘Sire,’ answered one of his knights, ‘it is Fak-
reddin, the emir, who fled from Damietta; but who,
nevertheless, as I learn, does not hesitate to boast
that it is his intention-to dine in your red tent on
St. Sebastian’s-day.’

‘Does the emir intend to dine in my tent on St.
Sebastian’s-day?’ said Louis, mildly; ‘ however, I will!
take good care to prevent him.’

‘In truth, sire,’ said the knight, smiling, ‘I hold
that you are much more likely to dine in the sultan’s
palace.’ |

‘Be that as it may,’ replied the king, ‘one thing
is certain. We and our foes are now-face to face.’

And so they were. Face to face, separated only
by the canal Achmoun, Christian and Moslem,
headed by the King of France and the Emir Fak-
reddin, lay encamped and awaiting a favourable
opportunity to fight, and to conquer or die for their
countries and salience

And it speedily appeared that face to face they
were for some time likely to remain.
413

CHAPTER XVIII.
DELAY AND DANGER.

T was January 1250, and King Louis, at the head
of the Crusaders, was still on the banks of the
Achmoun. But it was not from reluctance to pro-
secute their enterprise that the armed pilgrims sub-
mitted to delay. The aspect of the country through
Which they had passed on their way from Damietta
had not been such as to diminish their ambition to
be conquerors. It cannot be doubted that the fer-
tility of the land of the Pharaohs must have made
them more and more eager to become its masters.
In truth, there cannot be a more delightful sight
than Egypt at either of two seasons of the year.
Ascend some mountain in the month of July or
August, when the Nile has risen, and you behold a
vast sea, in which appear numerous towns and vil-
lages, with causeways leading from place to place,
the whole interspersed with groves and fruit-trees,
of which the tops are only visible, and bounded by
woods and mountains. But it is the peculiarity of
the Nile, unlike other rivers, which, in overflowing
lands, wash away and exhaust their vivific moisture,
that its waters serve to fatten and enrich the
114 TUE BOY GhUSADERS.

soil. Accordingly, ascend the same mountain in
January or February, when the waters have sub-
sided and the husbandman has done his work, and
the country is like one beautiful meadow, dotted
with flocks and herds, covered with crops of corn,
enamelled with flowers, and perfumed with the
blossoms of oranges and lemons.

Nor, considering the marvellous history of Egypt,
could the imaginations of the Crusaders be otherwise
than fascinated by the prospect of looking with their
own eyes on its cities, its pyramids, its obelisks, its
mummy pits, and all the relics of its ancient and
mysterious civilisation. Persians, Macedonians,
Romans, and Saracens, had come hither before them
as conquerors. But it may be doubted whether the
warriors of Cambyses, or Alexander, or the Cesars,
or Omar, felt a more thorough confidence in their
own prowess and destiny, than did the warriors who
marched from Damietta under the banner of St.
Denis.

It was certainly mortifying to men in so elate a
mood to have their progress arrested by a canal;
and, in fact, the French warriors seem to have been
startled out of their senses by its steep banks and
deep bed. At all events, they, instead of looking for a
ford, which was certainly the most natural way of -
getting over their difficulty, commenced the con-
struction of a causeway. 3

Now, Fakreddin no sooner setted that the Cru-
saders were at work, than he perceived his advantage,
and vowed that the causeway should never be com-
pleted; and, while workmen, protected by machines
GRENK FIRE. 113

of war and wooden castles, were occupied with its
construction, the Saracens spared no pains to retard
the operations. As fast as the Crusaders heaped up
the sand and stones, the Saracens dug away the
earth in front, thus removing the opposite bank to a
greater distance; and, moreover, they incessantly
showered arrows and javelins at the workmen.
Every day brought fresh annoyances; and every day
the Saracens became more audacious in their attacks.
Every night brought fresh surprises; and, in the
conflicts which took plase, the Crusaders had not
always the best of the struggle.

‘A large body of Turks,’ says Joinville, ‘made an
attack on the Count of Poictiers and me. But be
assured they were very well received. It was well for
them that they found their way back as they came;
but they left behind them great numbers of slain.’

‘One night the Turks brought an engine, called
by them la perriere, a terrible engine to do mischief,
and placed it opposite the chas-chateils, which Sir
Walter Curel and I were guarding. From this
engine they flung such quantities of Greek fire,
that it was the most horrible sight I ever witnessed.
When my companion, the good Sir Walter, saw this
shower of fire, he cried out, “ Gentlemen, we are all
Jost without remedy; for should they set fire to our
chas-chateils we must be burnt, and if we quit our
post we are for ever dishonoured; from which,
therefore, I conclude that no one can possibly save
us from this peril but God, our benignant creator.
I therefore advise all of you, whenever they throw
any of this Greek fire, to cast yourselves on your
116 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

hands and knees and cry for mercy to our Lord, in
whom alone resides all power.”

‘As soon, therefore, as the Turks threw their fires,
we flung omcelee on our hands and knees as the
wise man had advised; and, this time, they fell
between our two cats, into a hole in front, which
our people had made to extinguish them; and they
were instantly put out by a man appointed for that
purpose.

‘Each time that our good king, St. Louis, heard
them make these discharges of fire, he cast himself
on the ground, and with extended arms, and eyes
turned to the heavens, cried with a loud voice to our
Lord, and shedding heavy tears, said —“ Good Lord
God, preserve thou me, and all thy people :” and, be-
lieve me, his sincere prayers were of great service to
us. Every time the fire fell near us he sent one of
his knights to know how we were, and if the fire had
hurt us. One of the discharges from the Turks fell
beside a chas-chateil, guarded by the men of the Lord
of Courtenay, struck the bank of the river in frontand
ran on the ground toward them, burning with flames.
One of the knights of his guard instantly came to me,
crying out, ** Help us, my lord, or we are burnt; for
there isa long train of Greek fire, which the Saracens
have discharged, that is running straight for our castle.”

‘We immediately hastened thither, and good need
was there, for as the knight had said, so it was. We
extinguished the fire with much labour and difficulty ;
for the Saracens, in the meantime, kept up so brisk
a shooting from the opposite bank, that we were
covered with arrows and bolts,’
A MELON FLOATING IN TIIE WATER. 117

All this time Fakreddin was diligent in procuring
what intelligence he could as to the position and plans
of the Crusaders. This, however, was not an easy busi-
ness. Indeed, no intelligence on such subjects could
be obtained, save from captives, and the emir, there-
fore, offered a high reward for every Frank brought
to histent. Butthe Crusaders, taught by experience,
had become marvellously vigilant, and showed a
decided aversion to be captured. A Saracen, how-
ever, who was an expert swimmer, vowed not to ba
baffled, and performed an exploit, which Arabian
chroniclers, while omitting much more important
events, have carefully recorded.

It seeins that this Saracen, having determined to
carry a Christian as captive to Fakreddin’s tent, and
claim the reward, fell upon a somewhat whimsical
plan for accomplishing his object. Having scooped
out a melon, and thrust his head into the cavity, he
threw himself into the canal, and swam down the
stream in such a way that the melon appeared to float
in the water. The trick succeeded in attracting the
attention of the Crusaders, and as the melon was
passing that part of the bank where the Lord of
Joinville was encamped, there was much excite-
ment among his men.

‘Let us catch the melon,’ cried one.

‘Who is bold enough to make the attempt ?’ asked
another.

‘On my faith,’ said a squire, laughing, ‘I see no
danger to daunt the most timid.’

As he spoke, the squire, doffing his upper garments,
rushed into the water, and, striking out, grasped at

H
118 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

the melon. But the adventure did not end so plea-
santly as he had anticipated. Scarcely, indeed, had
he stretched forward his hand, when he found himself
seized by the Saracen, and dragged forcibly away in
the direction of the camp on the opposite bank.

At first the Crusaders could hardly believe their
eyes. But there was no mistake about it. Their
comrade was gone, and a prisoner in the hands of the
Saracens; and, as they considered what might be his
fate, they raised such shouts of alarm, that their lord
was attracted to the spot.

‘In St Denis’ name,’ said Joinville, after hearing
sufficient to be aware of what had occurred, ‘ tell me,
I pray you, who among my fellows has met with
this mishap ?’

‘In truth, my lord,’ replied one of the knights,
‘it is the English squire who took service with you
at Damietita.’

‘May the God of his fathers protect him :’ ex-
claimed Joinville, somewhat sadly ; ‘as matters ar e,
we can do nothing in his behalf.’

And who was the squire, who had entered the
service of Joinville at Damietta, and afterwards been
taken prisoner by the Saracens ?

It was one of the -brothers-in-arms. It was Guy
Muschamp.
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best Coo ae and dragged forcibly away in the direction of the camp on the opposite
11J

CHAPTER XIX.
THE CAPTIVE.

T the time when Guy Muschamp was dragged
away as a captive to the camp of the Saracens
at Djedilé, the emir Fakreddin sat in his pavilion.
It was a marvellous tent, in the centre of the camp,
and formed so as to resemble a fortified city, being
divided into streets, flanked with towers, and fur-
nished with everything hkely to contribute to the
luxury of an oriental. In an apartment, ornamented
with gold and gems, the emir sat, face to face with a
dark-browed Saracen chief, and playing at chess. But
the game did not by any means monopolise the atten-
tion of the persons engaged in it; for the companion
of the emir was no less celebrated a person than
Bibars Bendocdar, the chief of the Mamelukes; and
between him and Fakreddin there was much discus-
sion as to the best mode of dealing with the enemies
who menaced the empire with ruin.

And who was Bibars Bendocdar? It is necessary
that we should learn, in order to comprehend the
events that were ere long to startle and terrify the
nations of Christendom.

At the time when Louis, King of France, undertook
120 THE BOY CRUSADETS.

his Crusade, it was the custom, when two eastern
potentates went to war, for the conqueror to sell the
subjects of the vanquished enemy as slaves; and
many of these, bought by merchants, were carried to
Egypt, and sold to the sultan, who had them trained
from boyhood to serve him as soldiers. Carefully
were these young captives reared; and, when their
beards began to grow, they were taught to draw the
bow and wield the sword. After becoming expert in
military exercises, they were admitted into that
famous body, which Saladin the Great had instituted,
and known as Mamelukes. Their privileges were
many. ‘They were highly favoured by the sultan,
wearing his emblazonments of pure gold, only adding
bars of vermilion, with birds or roses or griffins for
difference, and acting as his body-guard in time of
war, and watching over his safety while he slept.

It seems that Bibars Bendocdar was originally
brought to Egypt as a slave, and, in course of time,
enrolled as one of the Mamelukes. As such he rose
rapidly. His ambition was intense; and, being both
able and unscrupulous, he had no reason to despair
of his ambition being one day gratified. No position,
indeed, could be more favourabie to a man eager to
emerge from obscurity to eminence, than that which
he occupied ; and he not only succeeded in winning
the confidence of the sultan, but contrived to in-
sinuate himself into the good graces of the soldiers.
In truth, this with him was no difficult matter. He
had profoundiy studied human nature as it was ex-
hbited around him; and he comprehended, above all
tuings, the arts by which the hearts of fighting men
BIBARS BENDOCDAR. 121

are gained and retained, and the arts also by which
military adventurers elevate themselves to supremacy
in a state |

Besides, Bibars Bendocdar had other qualities
likely to render him a formidable foe or a dangerous
rival. He was skillful as a leader in war, courageous
in conflict, cruel in the hour of victory, and remark-
able for his penetration, sagacity, and activity.
Moreover, he professed great faith in the Mahometan
religion, and had great faith also in his own destiny.
Such was the man who now watched events with the
eagerness of a gambler, and who recognised, not
without satisfaction, the danger and disorder, from
the bosom of which a leader of courage and audacity
might, by rekindling enthusiasm and restoring order,
elevate himself to power. He was about to prove
himself one of the most formidable foes whom the
soldiers of the Cross had ever been under the neces-
sity of encountering.

Into the presence of the Emir Fakreddin and
Bibars Bendocdar young Guy Muschamp, drenched
and agitated, was carried. Alarmed as he well
might be, the squire exhibited a dauntless air and
presented a bold front. In fact, his demeanour was
such that the Saracen chiefs exchanged glances of
surprise.

‘Who are you?’ asked Fakreddin.

‘My name is Muschamp, and I am a subject of
the King of England.’

‘And what brought you to Egypt ?’

‘tT came to fight for the Holy Sepulchre.’

‘And,’ asked Bibars Bendocdar, sternly, ‘know
122 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

you not that passage in the Koran which says that _
they who make war unjustly shall perish ?’

‘Saracen,’ replied Guy, proudly, ‘an Anglo-Nor-
man gentleman does not regulate his conduct by the
Ixoran.’ Fag is

‘However,’ said Fakreddin, waving his hand, ¢ it
1s needful that you answer some questions as to the
army of Franks, and that you answer truly.’

‘Saracen,’ replied Guy, resolutely, ‘I will not
answer a question on the subject.’

‘Fool!’ exclaimed Bibars Bendocdar, impatiently ;
‘know you not your danger? Know you not that
Wwe can instantly order your head to be struck off ?’

‘ Doubtless,’ replied Guy. ‘ And, in that case, I die
the death of a martyr, and go straight to paradise.’

‘Infidel!’ cried Bibars, loudly; * you know not of
what you speak. You will have to account for your
faith to the angels Munkir and Nakir.’

‘Munkir and Nakir!’ exclaimed Guy, with an air
of perplexity; ‘ beshrew me if I ever before heard of

their names.’
© You will know them soon enough, if you act not
more discreetly,’ said Bibars; ‘for they are the two
angels who interrogate the dead the moment they
are in the grave, saying, “ Who is thy lord?” and,
‘Who is thy prophet ?”’

‘On my faith, Saracen,’ said Guy, compassionately,
‘I marvel much that a man of your years can credit
such pagan fables.’

‘Dog! exclaimed Bibars. ‘This to my beard!
Ho! there, guards! Strike off this Christian’s head,
and cast his carcase to the fishes!’
UNEXPECTED FREEDON. 125

‘No,’ said Fakreddin, mildly, ‘it is well that he
should have time to reflect. Let him be kept as a
prisoner till the morrow. He will then be more
likely to answer the questions asked of him.’

Accordingly Guy Muschamp was led from the
presence of the Saracen chiefs and shut up in a
small apartment in the centre of I°akreddin’s tent.
The position was the reverse of pleasant; and he
almost gave himself up for lost. Next morning,
however, after he had eaten some food brought him
by the jailer, he was startled, first by a commotion
in the camp, and then by such a noise and tumult
as if all the fiends had come thither from the in-
fernal regions to fight their battles. Gradually,
through the din, the ear of Guy recognised the clash
of weapons and the rushing of steeds, and his sus-
pense was agonising. Jor a time he endeavoured to
make out what was occurring; but this was in vain.
At length the noise ceased; and Guy moved to the
door with the intention of making a desperate effort
to break it open. Somewhat to his surprise, he found
that it did not resist. In fact, the jailer was gone
and the camp deserted.
124

CHAPTER XX,
PASSING THE ACHMOUN.

ORE than six weeks had passed since the Cru-
saders found their progress arrested by the
Achmoun; and still the causeway by which they
had hoped to pass the canal was not constructed.
Indeed, the workmen had made very little progress
since the first week; and Louis was despairing cf
seeing the work brought to a completion, when,
much to his gratification, he learned that there was
a prospect of crossing the canal by the simplest of
all processes.

On the day when bie Muschamp was carried off
as a captive, the Constable of France was surprised
by a visit from a Bedouin, and demanded his busi-
ness. ‘The Bedouin thereupon offered, for five hun-
dred golden bezants, to point out a ford by which
the Crusaders might, without danger or difficulty,
cross in safety to the opposite bank. The constable
at once promised the required reward, in the event
of the information proving satisfactory; but it was
not till the money was told down that the Bedouin |
conducted him to the spot, and convinced him that
the ford was there. Giadly hastening to Louis, the
FOLLY AND PRESUMPTION. 125

constable revealed the means of extricating the
armed pilgrims from their embarrassment; and the
king, assembling the princes and nobles, decided on
leaving the Duke of Burgundy on the Damietta
side with a sufficient force to guard the camp; and
then, mustering their men and mounting their
horses, they at midnight marched along the bank of
the canal to the ford pointed out by the Bedouin,
and awaited the break of day to dash through the
water and move towards Mansourah.

It was the morning of Tuesday, the 8th of Feb-
ruary, 1250— Shrove Tuesday — when the armed
pilgrims, under the auspices of King Louis, halted
on the Damietta side of the Achmoun, and awaited
the signal to pass to that on which Mansourah was
situated. Everything so far had gone quite as
smoothly as could reasonably have been expected.
Some horsemen, indeed, rode too near the margin of
the canal, and, getting on soft and slippery ground,
they and their horses fell in and were drowned.
Among them was Sir John of Orleans, a valiant
knight, who bore the French banner. But this was
a slight misfortune compared with that which the
folly and presumption of one man was preparing for
that ill-starred host.

At all times, and under all circumstances, the
Count of Artois was one of the most unreasonable
of human beings; and at this moment, so important
to Louis, to France, to the Crusaders, and to the
Christian kingdom of Jerusalem, nothing would
satisfy his ambition but being the first to cross. Not
unaware of his brother’s failings, Louis protested ;
126 THE BOY CRUSADERS,

but the count persisted; and, promising to wait
with patience on the opposite bank for the main
army, he placed himself at the head of the van,
which was formed of the Templars, tle Hospitallers,
and the English Crusaders, and dashed into the
canal. ;

Now, at this moment the opposite bank was occu-
pied by several hundred Saracen horsemen, who
seemed prepared to oppose the landing of the Cru-
saders. No sooner, however, did the Saracens per-
ceive that the Crusaders were fording the canal
safely than they gave way, and fled towards the
camp of the Emir Fakreddin at Djedilé.

It was then that, in spite of all the warnings he
had received and all the promises he had made, the
Count of Artois gave way to the impetuosity that
was destined to lead to the ruin of the pilgrim army.
At the sight of the flying Saracens, he threw all
discretion to the winds, and, attended by his
governor, an old deaf knight, who held his rein,
pursued the fugitives towards the camp. In vain
the Grand Masters of the Temple and the Hospital
shouted out remonstrances. The count paid no
attention whatever; and the aged knight, who was
too deaf to hear a word, urged on the pursuit, cry-
ing loudly, ‘Hurrah! hurrah! Upon them! upon
them !’

I'he Saracens who occupied. the camp at Djedilé
were panic-stricken; and, supposing that the whole
French army was upon them, fled in confusion
towards Mansourah. But there was one man who
did not fly; and that man was Fakreddin. When
CEATIT OF FAKREDDIN 127

the camp was invaded, the emir was in his bath, and
having his beard coloured, after the custom of the
Orientals ; but he immediately roused himself, dressed
himself hastily, and, springing on horseback, en-
deavoured to rally his troops, and attempted to resist.
Inspired by Fakreddin’s example, the Saracens wl'o
had not fled offered a feeble resistance. But it was
unavailing, and they followed the fugitives streaming
towards Mansourah. Fakreddin, however, disdaining
either to fly or yield, continued to struggle bravely ;
until, left almost alone, he fell in the midst of his
foes, covered with wounds, and consoling himself, as
his breath went, that his end was glorious, that he
died a martyr for Islamism, and that he would be
conveyed to the banks of the celestial river.

‘By the head of St. Anthony!’ exclaimed the
Count of Artois, looking fiercely on Fakreddin’s
mangled corpse, ‘it was this emir who boasted that
he would dine in the red tent of my lord the king;
but now he will not grumble at a humbler resting-
place.’

‘My lord count,’ said Salisbury, gravely, ‘the
emir, had he been ten times a Saracen, was a brave
man; and let us merit the praises of the valiant hy
showing that we know how to honour the memory
of our enemies as weli as of our friends.’

‘Amen,’ said both the grand masters, in significant
accents.
128

CHAPTER XXI.
TIE CARNAGE OF MANSOURAIL

T was still early morning, and King Louis was
still on the Damietta side of the Achmoun,
when the Count of Artois, the Earl of Salisbury, and
the Grand Masters of the Temple and the Hospital
found themselves victors in the camp.

‘Now, gentlemen,’ said the Count of Artois, “let
us forward, and complete the rout of our foes while
affairs prosper in our hands and they are in dismay.
Speed will now avail more than strength; and the
fewer we are the greater will be the honour of a
victory. Forward then, and crush them at a blow!’

‘Forward!’ shouted the old deaf knight, who held
the count’s rein, ‘Hurrah! hurrah! Upon them!
upon them !’

But the count’s companions hesitated, and ex-
changed glances of alarm.

‘Nobie prince,’ said the Master of the Temple,
after a pause, ‘I give all praise to your valour; but
I entreat you to be advised, and not to act rashly.
Our men are weary; our horses are wounded; we
are few in number; and we must not overvalue our
victory, or suppose cur enemies are vanquished
RASH COUNSEL. 199

Lecause they have lost a handful of men. Let us,
therefcre, return to the king, that we ey, be
strenothened by his counsel ail aid.’

‘In truth,’ said the Grand Master of the Hospital,
‘we should be foolhardy to attempt aught rashly.
We are in a strange country; and our best instructors
are behind. Let us stay for our lantern and not go
forward in the dark.’

‘Ah? exclaimed the Count of Artois, swelling with
pride and anger, ‘this is ever the way with military
monks. But for the treachery of the Templars, and
the sedition of the Hospitallers, the Holy Land
would long since have been won.’

‘Noble count,’ said the Grand Master of the
Temple, reproachfully, ‘you do us grievous wrong,
Why should we take the habit of religion, and pass
our lives in a foreign land amid perils and fatigues ?
Is it, think you, to overthrow the Church and betray
the cause of Christ, that we abandon our homes
and kindred? However,’ added the Grand Master,
waxing wroth, ‘let us forward, in God’s name, and
try all together the fortunes of battle. Standard-
bearer, unfurl the banner of the Temple. Ha!
Beau-séant! Beau-séant !’

At this moment the Earl of Salisbury made an
effort to save his comrades from the destruction
on which they were about to rush.

‘My lord,’ said he, addressing the Count of Artois,
‘I implore you to listen to the wholesome counsel of
the grand masters. They have been long in this
country, and learned by experience the craft as well
as the strength of our foes. We, being strangers,
130 IE BOY CRUSADERS.

are ignorant of the perils; but we know that, as fax
as tke east is from the west, so far are our ways
different from the ways of the Orientals.’

‘Hearken to this Englishman!’ exclaimed the
count, scornfully. ‘What cowardice there is in these
English! But their timid counsel suits not us.
Happy should I be if the Christian army were
purged of the English tails!’

A flush of rage crimsoned the earl’s bronzed
cheek, and his eye flashed fire.

‘Now, by my father’s sword!’ cried he, striving to
be calm, though he literally quivered with indies
nation, ‘this passes human patience! Ilo! there,
Lord Robert de Vere, raise my banner; and you,
Count of Artois, lead on, and see if the danger of
death hinders us from following. The touchstone
must try which is gold and oe is brass; and I
swear, by good St. George, as I put on my helmet,
that the English knights whom you have taunted
with cowardice will this day penetrate farther in —
the ranks of our foes than any warrior of France—--
be he prince or paladin—will venture to do.’

And the dispute having thus been terminated, the
Count of Artois and his Crusaders put on their
helmets and mounted their horses. At that
moment the eye of Salisbury alighted on Walter
Espee; and his countenance, which had expressed
the most scornful indignation, suddenly changed,
and expressed something like pity.

‘Boy,’ said he, in a ioe kindly tone, ‘fall back
and wait for the French king, We are rushing on
certain death; and you are tao young to die.’
NOT TOO YOUNG TO DIRE. 151

‘Nay, my good lord,’ replied Walter, calmly. «A
man, whether young or old, can die but once: [
would rather fall fighting in the cause of our
Redeemer, and under your banner, than in a less
holy cause and in meaner company.’

As you will,’ said the earl. ‘It shall never be told
that I prevented knight or squire from dying the
death of a martyr.’

‘By the might of Mary! Master Espec,’ whispered
Bisset, the English knight, ‘were I your age, and
had my choice, certes, I should think twice ere
hazarding life against such odds. Wherefore should
you fall a victim to the madness of my Lord of
Artois, or the pride of my Lord of Salisbury ?’

‘On my faith, I know not,’ answered Walter,
smiling. ‘But this I do know, that a man can die
but once, and that a Christian warrior who falls with
the Cross on his shoulder is understood to win the
crown of martyrdom.’

‘Nevertheless, were I you, and of your years,’
argued Bisset, ‘I should little relish the notion of
being killed; for, as the Saracens say, when man
dies there is no hope of his living again; because, as
they add truly, man is not a water-melon when
once in the ground he cannot grow again.’

By this time French and Templars and Hospi-
tallers and English were mounted; and, without
further argument, they dashed towards Mansourah.
At first they enccuntered no obstacle; and, while
the inhabitants fled in terror along the road to
Cairo, the Count of Artois and his companions, after
destroying one of the gates, so as to secure eOTESS
152 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

if necessary, penetrated into the city, carrying all
before them ; and, reaching the palace of the sultan,
they commenced the work of pillage. But during
this process they were rudely interrupted; for Bibars
Bendocdar perceived the imprudence of which the
Crusaders had been guilty, and suddenly, at the
head of a Saracen army, appeared to give them
battle.

And now the Crusaders were in a fearful predica-
ment. Kre they had time to rally, they were fiercely
attacked. From the roofs and windows of the houses
around, the Saracens hurled stones, and poured
heated sand and boiling water. Before them were -
the Mamelukes, headed by Bibars Bendocdar, fiery
with fanaticism, and panting for blood. It was a
terrible situation even for brave men; and the very
bravest there felt a thrill of awe and terror.

‘ All is lost!’ said Salisbury, in a whisper.

‘The King of France may hear of our peril, and
come to our rescue, suggested Lord Robert de
Vere. :

‘No hope of succour,’ said Bisset, in a conclusive
tone. ‘But let us not droop. We can at least sell
our lives dearly.’

A brief and painful silence succeeded, while still
upon the Crusaders the Saracens hurled stones and
poured boiling water.

‘Englishmen and friends,’ at length said Salisbury,
raising his voice so as to be heard at a distance, ‘it
were vain at this moment to deny our peril. But
take courage, my brave companions; and let us not
faint in the hour of adversity. Everything, save
NO ROOM FOR RETREAT. 133

dishonour, may be borne by valiant men; and ad-
versity sheds a light upon the virtues of mankind,
as surely as prosperity casts over them a shade.
Ifere there is no room for retreat; for our enemics
chcompass us about; and to attempt to fly would -
be certain death. Be of good cheer, then, and let
the urgency of the case sharpen your valour and
nerve your arms. Brave men should either conquer
nobly, or die with glory; and martyrdom is a boon
which we should accept without reluctance. But,
before we fall, let us, while we live, do what. may
avenge our deaths; and, while giving thanks to God
that it is our lot to die as martyrs, let us, in our last
efforts of valour and despair, prove ourselves worthy
soldiers of the Cross.’

‘Earl William,’ said the Count of Artois, riding
up, and now conscious of his folly, ‘God fights
against us. Resistance is vain, but escape is possible.
Let us consult our safety, and fly while yet our
horses can carry us.’ |

‘Fly if you will!’ answered the earl, scornfully ;
‘but God forbid that any but liars should ever have
it in their power to tell that my father’s son fled
from the face of a Saracen.’

And now the heavens and the earth seemed to
resound with the noise of horns and enormous kettle-
drums; and, urged on by Bibars Bendocdar, the
Saracens rushed upon their enemies, The plight of
the Crusaders was desperate. But, few as they were
in comparison with the swarming foe, they fought
gallantly and well; and, though wounded and ex-
hausted, maintained the conflict for hours after the

| ; |
134 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

flight of the Count of Artois. But fearful in the
meantime was the carnage. Full fifteen hundred
knights had fallen; and of these, three hundred were
of the order of the Temple. Gradually the numbers
diminished, till there remained not a dozen of the
men who had that morning invaded Fakreddin’s camp;
and among these were the Earl of Salisbury, Lord
Robert de Vere, the Grand Masters of the Temple and
the Hospital, Bisset the English knight, and Walter
' Espec, still unwounded, and fighting as if he bore a
charmed life, and felt invulnerable to javelins or arrows.

But all possibility of continuing to resist was now
at an end, and every hope of succour had vanished.
Salisbury, resolved to sell his life dearly, faced the
Saracens with desperate valour, and used his battle-
axe with such effect that a hundred Saracens are
said to have fallen that day by his hand. At length
his horse was killed under him; and, after rising to
lis feet, and fighting for awhile with disdain, he fell
covered with wounds. Robert de Vere, already
bleeding and exhausted, no sooner saw Salisbury sink
than he wrapped the English standard round his
body, and lay down to die by the great earl’s side.
Bisset, Walter Espec, and the two grand masters,
found themselves surrounded by a host of foes, and
defending themselves desperately against every spe-
cies of assailant.

‘Alas!’ exclaimed the grand masters of the
Temple, ‘ we are clearly doomed.’

‘I would fain hope not,’ answered Bisset, reso-
lutely. ‘Our weapons are not willow-wands; we
can cut our way through the pagan rabble.’
BRAVERY OF THE FOUR SURVIVORS. 135

‘Shame upon usif we hesitate !” said Walter Espec.

And drawing close together, with a rush which
for a time bore down opposition, the four survivors
made a stern endeavour to reach the gate,—the axe
of Bisset and the swords of the military monks
doing terrible execution. Twice the Saracens formed
in a mass to prevent their reaching the only gate
which was not closed; as often Bisset, penetrating
singly into the Saracen ranks, dealt death and de-
struction to his foes, and opened the way for his
friends; till gradually, having by force of arm over-
thrown every obstacle in his path, he reached the
gate, and, followed by the Grand Master of the
Temple, dashed through the opening, with a shout
of defiance at his assailants.

But the Grand Master of the Hospital and Walter
I’spec had not such good fortune as the Templar
and the English knight. Bibars Bendocdar, enraged
at the rumour that some Christians were escaping
from the carnage, hastened to the open gate, and,
with his arrival, every chance vanished. Dragged
from his steed, the grand master was fain to sur-
render himself prisoner. Wounded by an arrow and
a javelin, but still struggling to fight his way out,
Walter spec cut down a Saracen soldier, and, rising
in his stirrups and shouting, ‘St. Katherine for
Espec!’ made a fierce thrust at Bendocdar. But next
moment he was felled to the ground; he felt that
his blood was flowing fast, and that horsemen were
riding over him; and then he lost all consciousness,
and lay prostrate and insensible among the dead and
the dying.
136

CHAPTER XXII.
THE BATTLE,

O sooner did Guy Muschamp find the door of his
prison opened, than he rushed out to ascertain
the cause of the tumult to which he was indebted for
liberty, and he discovered that the camp was deserted
and abandoned, save by the wounded and the slain.
Ifowever, he hastily donned his steel cap, possessed
himself of a short sword; and having with little
ditiiculty caught a stray horse, saddled and bridled,
he mounted, and rode forth with the idea of ee
the Crusaders, who by this time were disappearing
within the gates of Mansourah.

Fortunately, however, for Guy, he was not des-
tined to share the fate of his gallant countrymen
who fell victims to the vain folly of the Count of
Artois. Nevertheless, his danger was great. By
this time the Count of Brittany and a multitude of
warriors were riding towards Mansourah to aid the
Count of Artois; and, as the Saracens who came
out to oppose their progress rapidly spread over the
plain, Guy began to find his position somewhat
perilous, and to give himself up for lost. At that
iioment, however, his eye and his ear were attracted
CROSSING THE ACHMOUN. 137

by the gleaming of spears and the ringing of mail to
a ruined house; and, cantering thither, he found to
his joyful surprise, that the Lord of Joinville and his
knights had taken shelter there, to await the arrival
of the king, who was still engaged in passing the
main body of his army over the Achmoun.

Nor had they long to wait. As with breathless
anxiety they watched the Saracens, swarming like
bees from their hives, and covering the plain, Louis,
having at length crossed the canal, with sound of
trumpets and clarions, rode up at the head of his
cavalry, and, with a German sword in his hand,
halted on an eminence to survey the field. And neither
in air nor appearance did Louis, at that moment,
look unworthy of the part he was acting as chief of
the pilgrim army. His magnificent armour, his
gilded helmet, and his noble bearing, gave him the
appearance of being taller by the shoulders than
any of his companions. As he reined up his white
charger—the symbol of sovereignty—and, with the
oriflamme displayed before him, endeavoured calmly
to estimate the chances of the conflict, the Lord of
Joinville and his knights, surrounded as they were
with danger, could not but utter exclamations ex-
pressive of admiration.

‘By St. James,’ exclaimed Joinville, ‘I never in
my life saw a more handsome man under arms.’

‘Certes,’ replied one of the knights, ‘I could
almost believe that the angel of battles had come to
our aid.’ :

While the king was still surveying the combat, that
every moment became more fierce and sanguinary,
138 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

the Constable of France rode up to inform him of the
peril of the Count of Artois.

‘Sire,’ said the constable, ‘ your noble brother is
shut up in Mansourah; and, albeit he and his com-
rades hold out gallantly, they must perish ‘if not
aided forthwith.’

‘Well, constable,’ answered Louis, ‘on to the
rescue, in God’s name, and I will speedily follow.’

The constable, without more words, gave his horse
the spur, and dashed towards Mansourah, whither
the king and his knights also attempted to make
their way. But this was no easy matter. Every
moment the Saracens seemed to increase in numbers;
and the Crusaders, while struggling bravely not to
be overwhelmed by odds, were exposed to terrible
hazard. Louis soon found himself in the thick of
the fight and environed by foes. Nothing seemed to
remain to him but to sell his life dearly; and six
Saracens, rushing forward simultaneously, attempted
to seize his bridle, and take him captive. But, at
that moment, Louis—-gentle and saintly as was his
nature—used his German sword with a vigour and
effect, scarcely excelled by Richard Cceur de Lion at
Joppa, when he charged among the Mamelukes of
Saladin, or by Edward Longshanks at Kakhow, when
the sweep of his sword, and the rush of his grey
steed, struck terror into the heart of the host of
Bibars Bendocdar. Down before that short German
sword went turban and caftan; till the French
knights, aware of their king’s danger, spurred in to
his rescue, and, with 4 mighty effort, saved him from
captivity.
THE BATTLEFIELD, 139

And now another attempt was made to reach
Mansourah. But it was too late. All was over with
the brave band who had followed the Count of Artois
into the city; and every moment the aspect of affairs
became more menacing; for Bibars Bendocdar, elate
with his victory within the walls, issued from the
gate, animating his soldiers with the words—‘ God is
powerful,’ and hoping to deal with the French king,
as he had dealt with the French king’s brother.
Nor, at first, did it appear that the Crusaders could
escape utter defeat. Not aware what was occurring,
and suddenly attacked by a mighty force led by a
dauntless chief, they were pressed and whirled about
and separated from each other, and forced to en-
counter countless odds at every disadvantage. Yet
even in stich circumstances the warriors of France
maintained their high reputation for valour; and, as
the combat proceeded and became keener and
keener, many a strong Saracen went to his account.

On both sides, indeed, great was the display of
personal prowess and courage; but there was no
generalship. Amidst clouds of dust, and under a
glowing sun, Christian and Moslem fought hand to
hand, and steel to steel. Helmet and turban mingled
confusedly in the struggle; while banners rose and
fell, and knights were unhorsed, and saddles emptied.
From Mansourah to Achmoun, and from the Nile to
the ford pointed out by the Bedouin, the ground,
literally covered with combatants, shook with the
rush of their horses, and the sky was rent by the
opposing war-cries of ‘Islam! Islam!’ and ‘ Mont-
joie, St. Denis!’ What with the shouts of the living,
140 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

the shrieks of the dying, and the yells of the Sara-
cens, as they bore down on their adversaries like
hawks on their prey, all was bloodshed, confusion,
and clamour, and the carnage was such as few men,
who fought on that field and survived it, ever re-
membcred without a thrill of awe.

And as the day sped on and the battle continued
to rage all over the plain, and warriors fell in heaps
before and around him, Louis became painfully aware
that Mansourah could not be reached, and that the
Crusaders were no longer fighting to conquer the
Saracens but to save themselves. And there was con-
siderable danger of Bibars Bendocdar drawing near
to the Achmoun, and cutting off all communication
between the camp of the Duke of Bureundy, and the
Christian army struggling for existence on the plains
ot Mansourah. On becoming aware of the danger, the
king decided on falling back towards the canal, and,
with the oriflamme displayed, moved in that direction.

Unfortunate were the consequences. A report im-
mediately spread that the king was retreating because
the Saracens were everywhere victorious, and im-
mediately there was a panic, and several squadrons
disbanded and rushed towards the canal. A terrible
scene followed, and men and horses were drowned
while struggling in the water. Nothing could have
exceeded the disorder and dismay. Louis, indeed,
made strenuous efforts to restore confidence, but his -
voice was scarcely heard in the tumult; and he
must have rejoiced when night put an end to the
conflict, and when Bibars Bendocdar retired to
Mansouvah, with the determination to attack the
VICTORY OR DEFEAT? 141

Crusaders on another day, as the tiger draws back to
make a more terrible spring.

Repairing to Djedilé, Louis dismounted, and took
possession of the camp which, at daybreak, had been
occupied by the Emir Fakreddin; and when his red
tent was pitched there, the Prior of Rosnay presented
himself, and kissed the king’s hand.

‘Sire,’ said he, wishing to break the news gently,
‘I know not if you have heard tidings of your noble
brother, the Count of Artois ?’

‘T know all,’ answered Louis, mournfully.

‘Sire,’ said the prior, endeavouring to administer
consolation, ‘no King of France has ever reaped
such honour as you have done this day. You have
crossed a dangerous river ; you have gained a victory ;
you have put your enemies to flight; you have cap-
tured their engines of war; and now you are taking
possession of their camp.’

‘May God be praised for all that I have, with His
aid, been able to do in His cause,’ said Louis, with a
faltering voice, and tears rolling down his cheeks, as
he entered his pavilion.

‘On my faith, sir prior, said John de Valery, with
the tone of a man who has a presentiment of coming
calamity, ‘I marvel how you can speak of this day’s
work as a triumph of ourarms. Often have I fought
for victory; but this day I have feit too surely that I
was fighting not for victory but for life.’

‘In truth,’ said the Lord of Joinville, who had
joined them, ‘I would fain hope for better fortune in
the future; for, call this a victory if you will, such
another victory would be worse than a defeat.’
142

CHAPTER XXIII.
NOW JOINVILLE KEPT THE BRIDGE.

HEN the Constable of France informed King
Louis that the Count of Artois was in extreme
peril, and when Louis made an effort to go to the
rescue of his brother—the Lord of Joinville, having
previously left the ruined house, and joined the king,
endeavoured to keep in the royal warrior’s company.
But all efforts with this object proved vain. The
Saracens, raising clouds of dust and uttering fero-
cious yells as they advanced, came down upon the
Crusaders with a force that was irresistible. The
French were scattered in all directions; and Joinville
was separated from Louis some minutes before the
person of the saintly monarch was in such imminent
danger. But in the meantime the seneschal’s band
had been reduced to six persons, including Guy
Muschamp, who adhered with determination to
Joinville’s side; and between them and the king,
then struggling to save his liberty, intervened
thousands of Saracens.
‘Impossible for us to make our way through such —
a crowd,’ said Joinville; ‘much better, therefore, will
it be to wheel round and get on the other side of them.’
ALARMING POSITION. 143

Accordingly they wheeled round, and gained the
bank of the river, and began to descend. But at
this moment the aspect of the field became most
alarming to the armed pilgrims. The Crusaders and
Saracens met on the banks, and many of the French,
attempting to cross and form a junction with the
Duke of Burgundy, were drowned; and the river was
covered with lances, pikes, shields, and horses and
men struggling in vain to save themselves.

By this time the Lord of Joinville, heading his
knights, had reached a bridge on one of the roads to
Mansourah ; and on perceiving the miserable state of
the army he halted.

‘It is better,’ said he, after looking round, ‘to
remain where we are, and guard this bridge; for, if
we leave it, the Saracens may come and attack the
king on this side, and, if he is assaulted from two
quarters, he will surely be discomfited.’

Accordingly they posted themselves on the bridge
which was between the canal Achmoun and the
gates of Mansourah, and prepared to defend it
against the Saracens. But such was the danger, that
Joinville’s heart, brave as it was, beat with terror,
and he cried aloud for the protection of St. James.

‘Good Lord St. James,’ exclaimed he; ‘succour me,
I beseech thee, and come to my aid in this hour of
need.’

It seemed to him and his companions that his
prayer was answered. Almost as he uttered it, the
Count of Soissons, who was his kinsman, appeared
riding past the bridge; and Joinville hastened to
secure his company.
144 TIE BOY CRUSADERS.

‘Sir count,’ said he; ¢I beg you to remain with us
and guard this bridge; for, should it be lost, the
king will have his enemies upon him both in front
and rear.’

‘Willingly, seneschal,’ replied the count; and he
placed himself on Joinville’s right hand, while a
French knight who was with him took his station
on the left. |

While Joinville and his companions were seated
on their horses, prepared to keep the bridge at all
hazards against all comers, the Saracens made re-
peated efforts to drive them from their post. But
they remained firm as rocks. Trusting to accomplish
by stratagem what they could not do by force, the
Saracens attempted to lure them from the spot; and
one stalwart horseman, galloping suddenly forward,
felled one of the French knights with his battle-axe,
and then retreated to his own people, hoping that he
would be followed. But Joinville, who comprehended ~
the purpose, would not be decoyed, and resolutely
kept his ground, though annoyed and wounded by a
rabble of half-armed Saracens, who incessantly threw
darts, and large stones, and hard clods.

At length, however, the Saracens began to make
themselves much more formidable, and to discharge
Greek fire, which threatened to do much mischief,
and pressed forward with savage yells.

‘On my faith, we must take order with this
rabble,’ said the Count of Soissons, growing angry.

‘As you will,’ replied Joinville; and, without
further hesitation, they charged the crowd, put them
to flight, and resumed their post.
THE COUNT OF BRITTANY. 145

But no sooner did the Saracens perceive that the
immediate danger was over, than they turned round,
and, keeping at a safe distance, yelled out defiance.

‘Heed them not, seneschad,’ said the Count of
Soilssons, who, in the midst of peril, retained all
the gaiety of soul which distinguished the French
chevaliers from the thoughtful Saxon, and the
haughty and somewhat grim Norman. ‘ Heed them
not. Let this rascal canaille bawl and bray as the
please. By St Denis, you and I will live to
talk of this day’s exploits in the chambers of our
ladies.’ 3
‘May God and good St. James grant it,’ said
Joinville, gravely.

‘But who comes hither, and in such a plight ?’
asked the Count of Soissons, suddenly, as a Crusader,
mounted on a strong horse, came galloping from the
direction of Mansourah—his face wounded, blood
gushing from his mouth, the reins of his bridle cut,
and his hands resting, as if for support, on his
charger’s neck.

‘In truth,’ replied Joinville, after examining the
horseman, ‘it is the Count of Brittany ;’ as, closely
pursued by Saracens, the wounded warrior gained
the bridge, and ever and anon turned round and
shouted mockingly to his pursuers.

‘By St Denis,’ exclaimed the count, ‘one thing
is certain: he is not afraid of hig pursuers.’

And almost as the Count of Soissons spoke, the
Count of Brittany was followed by two warriors, who
made their way through the Saracens, literally
smiting to the earth all who came in their wav.
i36 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

. Nothing, it seemed, could resist their progress; and
their path was tracked with blood. On they came,
scorntully scattering their foes till they reached the
bridge, when reining up where the Lord of Joinville
was posted, they stopped to take breath, after their
almost superhuman exertions. One had in his hand
a battle-axe; the other a sword. The battle-axe was
stained red with gore; the sword was hacked till it
looked ‘like a saw of dark and purple tint.’ One
was Bisset, the English knight, the other was the

Grand Master of the Temple. The horses of both ©
were wounded all over; the helmets of both were
deeply dinted. Bisset’s mail was almost hacked
to pieces; the Templar’s vestments were torn to
rags, his cuirass pierced, and his eye and face

_, wounded and bleeding.

‘You bring tidings of woe?’ said the Count of
Soissons.

‘Woe, in truth,’ answered Bisset; for the grand
master could not even muster voice to speak; ‘ of all
who rode into Mansourah this morning, not a man,
save ourselves, lives to tell the tale.’

‘And what of the Count of Artois, sir knight?’
asked Joinville.

‘I know not,’ replied Bisset, briefly ; ‘ the count
disappeared early, and doubtless died with the com-
rades of his jeopardy.’

‘No,’ interrupted the Count of Brittany, faintly,
‘he was drowned while attempting to save himself
by flight. At least,’ added he, ‘so I have been told.’

And in truth, to this day it is somewhat uncertain
what became of Robert, Count of Artois, though the
ONE OF THE BROTHERS-IN-ARMS AMISSING. li?

most probable account is that, seeing all was lost, |
he turned his horse’s head, with a vague hope of
reaching the main body of the Crusaders, and, while
attempting to cross one of the branches of the Nile,
sank never more to rise.

It was about this time that King Louis had moved
towards the Achmoun; and the Constable of France,
with the king’s crossbowmen under his command,
just as the sun was setting came to the bridge which
had been so bravely defended.

‘Seneschal,’ said he, addressing Joinville, ‘you
and your comrades have behaved well in guarding
this bridge; and now, all danger being over in this
quarter, [ pray you to accompany the Lord John de
Valery to the king, who is about to go to his
pavilion.’

And Joinville went as the constable requested ;
and while his companions were pursuing their way
towards the king’s red pavilion —that pavilion in
which the Emir Fakreddin had boasted he would
dine on the day of St. Sebastian — Guy Muschamp
approached Bisset, the English knight, and entreated
his attention.

‘Sir knight,’ said he, ‘I would fain enquire if you
know what has befallen the English squire, by name
Walter Espec ?’

‘Boy,’ replied Bisset, ‘I know not what may have
befallen him; but, if I were to hazard a guess, I
should say that he died, and died bravely. I re-
member me that he fought to the last; and I hoped
that he was destined to escape, as I did; but I grieve
to say that he failed so to do.’
148 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

‘Alas! alas!' said Guy sadly, and he clasped his
hands, as if muttering a prayer for his comrade’s
soul; ‘ woe is me, that I should live to hear that my
brother-in-arms, the good Walter, has fallen.’

‘My brave youth,’ urged Bisset, kindly, as he
observed that the boy’s face was suffused with tears,
‘death has this day been the portion of many thou-
sands of valiant men; and, for your brother-in-armgs,
I can testify for your comfort that he fought to the
last with the courage of a hero, and I doubt not,
that he faced death with the courage of a martyr.’

‘And if we are to give the uit. which our fathers
did to the words of holy men,’ added Guy, solemnly,
‘the souls of all such as fall, fighting for the Cross,
are purified from sin, and admitted straight to Para-
cise.’

‘ By the mass, I have heard priests say so,’ replied
Bisset, after a pause, during which he eyed the boy
with evident surprise; ‘and mayhap,’ continued he,
‘in the days of Peter the Hermit, and Godfrey of
Bouillon, such was the case. But, credit me, in
our day, armed pilgrims are guilty of such flagrant
sins during their pilgrimage, and while decked with
the oo that I hardly deem them likely’ to get
access to Paradise on such easy terms.’

‘By St. John of Beverley,’ exclaimed the squire,
in great astonishment, ‘deem you that matters are
so much changes sir knight?’

‘So much go,’ answered Bisset, shaking his head,
‘that seeing, save myself, you are almost the only
Inglishman left in this army of pilgrims, I am free
to confess to you my opinion, that for aught we are
A KNIGHT’S REFLECTIONS. 149

likely to do for the Holy Sepulchre, we might as
well have stayed at home, and hunted, and hawked,
and held our neighbours at feud. On my life, I
have seen enough of this army to feel sure that
Blacas, the troubadour knight, is a wise man, when
on being asked whether he will go to the Holy Land,
answers, that he loves and is beloved, and that he
will remain at home with his ladye love.’

And already, forgetting his wounds, and _ his
bruises, his hair-breadth escape, and the terrible
scenes in which he had that day acted a part, the
knight, as he reached the tent of King Louis, and
prepared to dismount, half chanted, half sung, the
lines with which Blacas concludes his simple song :—

Je ferai ma pénitence,

Entre mer et Durance,
Aupres de son manoir,
CHAPTER XXIV.

THE FIRST FRIDAY IN LENT.

N the day when the city of Mansourah witnessed

the carnage of the Crusaders under the Count

of Artois, and a great battle shook the plain outside

the walls, the Egyptians experienced by turns fear
and hope, joy and sadness.

On the morning when the camp at Djédilé was
taken, and the Emir Fakreddin slain, a pigeon
carried intelligence of the disaster to Cairo; and
the Egyptian capital was immediately in conster-
nation. Believing that the days of Islamism were
numbered, and the empire of the sultan on the
verge of ruin, the inhabitants thought of nothing
but escape from the danger that impended. Many
departed for Upper Egypt, and sorrow reigned in
the city—the inhabitants bewailing their misfortunes,
and crying that the world was coming to anend. A -
second pigeon, however, carried thither tidings that
the Count of Artois was defeated and slain; and
Cairo became the scene of joy and rejoicing. Fear
vanished from every face; and the Saracens grate-
fully extolled the courage of the Mamelukes, and of
their chief, Bibars Bendocdar. :
THE NEW SULTAN, 151

At the same time, an arrival of great importance
took place at Mansourah. While the battle was
raging on the plain, Touran Chah, the new sultan,
reached the city, and was received with acclamations
by the populace. The emirs, however, regarded the
sultan with some suspicion. Unfortunately, Touran
Chah did not come alone; and the jealousy of the
emirs was aroused by the presence of the favourites
who accompained him from Mesopotamia. If the
heir of Saladin could have foreseen what a price he
was to pay for the happiness of having his favourites
with him, he would doubtless have been discreet
enough to leave them behind.

But, mm the meantime, it was necessary for the
satety and interests both of the sultan and the emirs,
that the Crusaders should be destroyed; and Bibars
Bendocdar was bent on pursuing his success. In
the first place, he made several attempts to recapture
the engines of war, and the French were repeatedly
roused to defend them at the point of the sword.
But these attacks led to a feeling of insecurity, and
King Louis deemed it prudent to construct a bridge
of wood over the Achmoun, so as to have the means
of communicating readily with the Duke of Bur-
gundy’ss camp. Who at that time could have
imagined the mischief of which this bridge was
subsequently to be the cause ?

Meanwhile Bibars Bendocdar was doing his best
to inflame the enthusiasm of the Mamelukes and
soldiers. Nor, with that object, was he above prac-
tising a little deception. A cuirass covered with
fleur-de-lis was publicly exhibited, and declared to
152 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

be that of the French king. Heralds proclaimed
that the Christian army, deptived of its chief, was
like a trunk without a head; and the enthusiasm of
the Saracens reached a high pitch. At length, the
soldiers began to clamour to be led against the
enemy, and Bibars Bendocdar fixed Friday, the 11th
of February, as the day on which he would lead
them to triumph.

It was the first Friday in Lent; and King Louis,
having received warning that an attack was medi-
tated, gave orders for fortifying the camp, and
preparing for a conflict. At daybreak, accordingly,
the Crusaders were under arms; and, in good time,
Bibars Bendocdar appeared on the plain, setting his
men in battle order. Placing his cavalry in the van,
the infantry behind, and a strong reserve in the rear,
the Maineluke chief extended his lines till his forces
seemed to cover the plain. Nor was he sorry to
observe that there was a prospect of a stern resist-
ance; for the difficulties of his situation increased
his importance in the eyes of his soldiers, and every
step he took in overcoming perils, from which others
shrank, brought him nearer to the object on which
his heart was set—that object being neither more
nor less than the throne of the sultans.

And now, noon having come, with horns and
kettle-drums sounding an onset, Bibars Bendocdar
advanced on the Crusaders, and attacked the Count
of Anjou, who was at the head of the camp on the
side towards the Nile. At first, the French cavalry
calmly abided the assauit; but they soon found
themselves exposed to a kind of attack which they
COURAGE OF AN ENGLISH KNIGHT. 153

had not anticipated. In fact, the Saracen infantry,
moving forward, overwhelmed the knights with
Greek fire, and threw them into confusion. Surcoats
and caparisons blazed, and the horses plunged, broke
from the control of their riders, and galloped to and
fro. While they were in disorder, Bibars Bendocdar,
at the head of the Mamelukes, penetrated within
the entrenchments, and the Count of Anjou found
himself surrounded by foes.

Ere this, King Louis, aware of his brother’s peril,
despatched Bisset, the English knight, with a mes-
sage assuring the count of speedy aid; but, ere the
Englishman reached the Count of Anjou, he met the
French cavalry flying in disarray. Bisset reined up,
and addressed the fugitives.

‘Christian warriors,’ said he, ‘I come from your
king to ask whither are you flying? See you not
that the horses of the unbelievers are swifter than
yours ?’

‘It is too true,’ replied the fugitives.

‘Come then,’ said Bisset, ‘follow me, and I will
show you what your king deems a safer road than
flight; and charging among the Mamelukes, in front
of the French cavalry, the English knight succeeded
in maintaining the conflict, which had commenced
so inauspiciously for the French.

And aid was at hand; for Louis did not forget his
promise of succour. Shouting his battle-cry, he
spurred, lance in rest, to his brother’s rescue, and,
precipitating himself with his knights on the Moslem
warriors, soon redeemed the disaster which had
marked the opening of the battle. Nor did the
154 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

saint-king exhibit the slightest dread of exposing his
royal person. With a shout of ‘ Montjoie, St. Denis!’
he charged into the midst of the foe—his banner
flying, and his sword flashing—and by his example
inspired the Crusaders with such courage that, after
a sanguinary combat, they succeeded in expelling the
Mamelukes from the camp, and driving back the
infantry that threw the Greek fire.

By this time the battle had become general, and
everywhere the Crusaders fought valiantly and well,
though they had not always the advantage. In fact,
Bibars Bendocdar, as a war chief, possessed such a
degree of skill in handling masses of fighting men as
neither Louis nor any of the Crusaders could boast
of; and the discipline of the Mamelukes was such as
to make them terrible foes to encounter.

Nevertheless the Crusaders held their ground, and
performed prodigies of valour. At one point the
warriors of Syria and Cyprus maintained their ground
against fearful odds; at a second, the knights of
Champagne and Flanders fought stoutly and well;
at a third, such of the Templars as had not fallen at
Mansourah, headed by their grand master who had
so narrowly escaped the carnage, exhibited the fine
spectacle of a handful of men baffling a multitude,
and, despite the showers of Greek fire and missiles
which fell so thick that the ground was literally
covered with arrows and javelins, kept the enemy at
bay.. Even when the grand master fell mortally
wounded, the Knights of the Temple continued to
siruggle ; and when their entrenchments failed, and
the Saracens rushed into the camp, the military
TO THE RESCUE! 15

monks closed their ranks and presented a front
against which the assailants continued for hours to
charge violently, but in vain. ,

But meanwhile the peril of the Count of Poictiers
had been great and alarming. Composed of infantry,
his division gave way before the rush of the Saracen
cavalry, and dispersed in consternation. Nor was
this the worst. The-count himself, while endeavour-
ing to rally his forces, was seized, and experienced
the mortification of finding himself dragged off ag a
prisoner. But there was succour at hand.

The Lord of Joinville and his knights were luckily
posted near the Count of Poictiers; but having all
been so severely wounded in the battle of Shrove
Tuesday as to be unable to bear their armour, they
could take no prominent part in the conflict raging
around them. No sooner, however, did they observe
the count’s predicament than they deemed themselves
bound to interfere at all hazards; and Guy Mus-
champ, riding to the place where the sutlerg and
workmen and women of the army were posted, urged
them to rouse themselves. |

‘Good people,’ cried the squire, ‘ the brave Count
of Poictiers is being carried into captivity. For our
Leader’s sake, succour the Count of Poictiers. To the
rescue ! to the rescue!’

Now the count was highly popular with the per-
sons to whom this appeal was addressed; and no
sooner did they learn the prince’s danger than they
displayed the utmost alacrity to aid him. Arming
themselves with axes, and clubs, and sticks, and any=
thing that came in their way, they rushed furiously
156 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

forward, and, led on by the English squire, made so
successful an attack that the Saracens were dispersed,
and the count was rescued and carried back in
triumph.

‘Young gentleman,’ said the count, gratefully, ‘I
owe you my liberty. I pray you, tell me to whom I
am so deeply indebted.’ |

‘ Noble count,’ replied Guy, after telling his name,
‘I am a squire of England; and, for the present, I
serve the Lord of Joinville.’

‘Ah,’ said the count, smiling, ‘ the seneschal must
give you tome; forI would fain have an opportunity
of proving how I can requite such good service.’

By this time Bibars Bendocdar perceived that he
was wasting his strength in vain, and sounded a re-
treat. But the Mameluke chief was not without his
consolation. He knew that he had ruined the enter-
prise of the Crusaders; that they were no longer in a
condition to attempt a march to Cairo; and that they:
knew not on which side to turn.

But when the Saracens retreated towards Damietta,
and the danger was over for the time being, the
Crusaders were inclined to talk of their successful
resistance as a victory; and the knights and barons
when summoned that evening to the king’s pavilion,
went thither with the airs of conquerors.

‘My lords and friends,’ said Louis, kindly; * we
have much cause to be grateful to God our Creator.
On Tuesday, aided by Him, we dislodged our enemies
from their quarters, of which we gained possession.
This day we have defended ourselves against them.
though taken at advantage; many of us being left
THANKSGIVING. 157

witbout arms or horses, while they were completely
armed and on horseback, and on their own ground.
And since you have all witnessed the grace which God
our Creator has of late shown to us, and continues to
do daily, I commend you all, as you are bounden to
do, to return Him due thanksgiving.’
158

CHAPTER XXV.
MORTIFICATIONS AND MISERIES.

O longer could the armed pilgrims, so recently
buoyed up with the hope of making themselves
famous as the conquerors of Egypt, delude their
imaginations with the project of advancing to Cairo.
‘It is necessary to retreat to Damietta,’ said the
wise and prudent. |

‘A retreat to Damietta in the face of the foe is
more than our pride can brook,’ exclaimed the
haughty and obstinate.

‘Let us remain at Djédilé, and trust to the course
of events,’ suggested the reckless and the irresolute.

At Djédilé, accordingly, the Crusaders remained ;
and ere long, their calamities began in earnest, and
daily increased in magnitude. First came disease;
then came famine; and death and despair soon did
more than the Saracens could with the utmost efforts
have hoped to accomplish.

It appears that, after the two battles fought on the
plains of Mansourah, the Crusaders had neglected to
bury the slain; and the bodies thrown confusedly into
the Achmoun, and floating on the water, stopped
before the wooden bridge, and infected the atmo-
GLOOMY PROSPECTS. 100

sphere. A contagious disease was the consequence;
and this, being increased by the abstinence during
Lent, wrought such havoc, that nothing was heard
in the camp but mourning and lamentation. Louis,
sad, but still not in despair, exerted himself to mitigate
the sufferings of his army. At length he also fell sick,
and, every day, affairs wore a gloomier aspect.

‘It seems,’ said Guy Muschamp, who lay prostrate
with sickness in the tent of the Lord of Joinville, ¢ it
seems that Heaven has abandoned the soldiers of the
Cross.’

‘Hem,’ replied Bisset, to whom this was addressed,
‘I see not why Heaven should be blamed for the evils
which men bring on themselves by their own folly.
I warned you at Damietta what would be the end
of all the boastings which were uttered hourly. A
haughty spirit goes before a fall. Trust me, we have
not yet seen the worst. By the might of Mary, we
armed pilgrims may yet find ourselves under a
necessity similar to that which made cannibals of the
soldiers of King Cambyses when he made war in
Egypt?

‘King Cambyses ?’ repeated Guy, enquirinely.

‘Ay, replied Bisset, ‘he was King of Persia, and
almost as great a monarch as Kine Louis; and
when he was in this country his provisions ran short,
At first his soldiers lived on herbs, roots, and leaves;
when they could not get even these, they ate their
horses and beasts of burden; and, when the horses
and beasts of burden were finished, they began
to devour one another; and every tenth man. on
whom the lot fell, was doomed to serve as a meal for
160 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

his companions. Marry, we are like to be in a similar
plight; for famine begins to stare us in the face!’

Guy grcaned aloud, and wondered why he had left,
England; and, at that time, indeed, the new and
terrible danger daunted every heart. Resolved to
cut off all communication between Damietta and the
camp of the Crusaders, the sultan ordered a number
of galleys to be transported overland, to form an
ambuscade; and many French vessels were inter-
cepted. For a time, Louis could not comprehend
how no arrivals took place, and felt the gravest.
alarm. Ere long, however, one vessel, belonging to
the Count of Flanders, escaped the vigilance of the
galleys, and brought tidings that the sultan’s flac
was displayed all along ihe Nile. The Crusaders
received this intelligence with horror; and, in a few
days, the evil of famine was added to that of pesti-
lence.

‘What is to be done now ?’ asked they, giving way
to despondency. |

‘It is quite clear,’ said Louis, ‘that, in order to
save ourselves, we must treat with our enemies.’

- “No time was lost. Philip de Montfort, a knight of
renown, was despatched as ambassador to the sultan,
and was led to cherish hopes of success. The sultan
not only expressed his readiness +o treat, but actually
nominated commissioners. At first everything went
smoothly, and the Saracens appeared reasonable in
their demands. But when the question of hostages
came-to be discussed, a difficulty arose.

‘I am empowered to offer the Counts of Poictiers
and Anjou as hostages,’ said De Montiort.
HOSTAGES REFUSED, 161

‘No,’ replied the Saracens, ‘the sultan requires
the King of France.’

‘You ought to know Frenchmen better,’ exclaimed
Geotfrey de Segrines, one of the commissioners ; ‘ they
would rather die than leave their king in pledge.’

After this, the negotiation was broken off; and the
French prepared to cross the Achmoun by the bridge,
and deliberate on the propriety of marching back to
Damietta. But even the passage of the bridge was
not effected without terrible danger and heavy loss.
No sooner did the Crusaders begin to move, than the
Saracens came down upon them, and made a furious
attack ; but Walter de Chatillon, a French baron of
great fame, led on his companions to the encounter,
and after being seconded by the Count of Anjou,
succeeded in repulsing the foe. The Crusaders, how-
ever, after remaining some days in their old camp,
found that they were a prey to the worst calamities,
and, no longer hesitating, decided on a day for return-
ing to Damietta.

Unfortunately for the armed pilgrims, their reso-
lution was no secret to the Saracens, and when
Touran Chah became aware of their intended move-
ment down the Nile, he devised measures to inter-
cept them. He himself harangued his soldiers,
distributed money and provisions, reinforced them
with Arabs attracted to his standard by the prospect
of booty, and ordered boats with troops on board to
descend the river, and join the fleet already there ;
while bodies of light horse were placed on all the
roads by which the Crusaders were likely to make
good their retreat.
162 THE BOY CRUSADERS,

Nevertheless, the Crusaders, finding their present
position desperate, persevered in their resolution,
and Tuesday, the 5th of April, was appointed for the
perilous enterprise. On the arrival of that day, the
sick, the wounded, the women, and the children,
were embarked on the Nile, and, at the same time,
several French nobles, and the papal legate, got on
board a vessel, No doubt seems to have existed that
Louis might have saved himself. Even the Arabian
historians admit that the French king might have
escaped, either in a boat or on horseback, if he would |
have abandoned his army. But, with characteristic —
generosity, he distinctly refused to separate his fate
from theirs. Anxious about his safety, the soldiers
ran along the bank, shouting to the boatmen not to
set sail till the king embarked. |

‘Wait for the king—wait for the king!’ cried they.

‘No,’ said Louis, his heart touched, but his reso-
Jution firm; ‘goon. I will share weal or woe with my
soldiers. Iam not such a niggard of life, that I grudge
to risk it in such company, and in such a cause.’

And now the boats began to descend the Nile;
and at the same time the Duke of Burgundy, having
broken up his camp, about nightfall commenced a
retreat towards Damietta. But at this stave, the
rench were guilty of a piece of negliyence that was
destined to cost them dear. The king had ordered |
the wooden bridge over the Achmoun to be destroyed.
In their agitation and haste, the French paid no
attention to the order. In vain Bisset, the English
knight, protested against such insane indifference to
a manifest peril.
THE WARNING REJECTED. 163

‘My masters,’ said he, bluntly, ‘we can hardly
be deemed otherwise than madmen, if we leave that
bridge standing as it is, to afford the Saracens a sate
passage over the canal, to attack us in the rear.’

‘Sir knight,’ replied the French drily, for they did
not relish an Eneglishman’s interference, ‘it is not
from that quarter that danger is most to be appre-
hended.’

‘ Nevertheless,’ urged Bisset.

‘We are wasting time to no purpose,’ said the
French; ‘and this day, time is more precious than
your counsel,’

‘As you will, my masters,’ replied Bisset; ‘ only
credit me, that if you leave that bridge behind you
to facilitate the operations of your enemies, you will
place your army in such a predicament, that neither
the craft of Alexander of Macedon, nor William the
Norman—could either come from their graves to
lead—-would avail to save it from destruction ere
reaching Damietta.’

And having administered this warning, Bisset
withdrew, with the consolation of aman who has done
at least his duty, and with.the air also of a man
much too reckless as to his personal safety to fear
much on his own account from the consequences of
the blunders and incapacity of others; then, arming
himself, he saddled his steed, girded on his sword,
hung his battle-axe at his saddle-bow, and went to
attend King Louis during the perilous enterprise of
marching through a country, with armed foes posted
at the turn of every road.

‘Hearken to that English tail,’ said the French
164 THE BOY CRUSADERS,

one to another, as Bisset withdrew; ‘ these islanders
are so timid, that they will next be afraid of their
own shadows.’

‘By the head of St. Keteccee said a knight, who
had been attached to the Count of Artois, ‘I hate
the tailed English so, that I would leave the bridge
as it is, if only to mortify one of them.’
169

CHAPTER XXVI.
THE MASSACRE OF MINIEH.

T was already dark when the pilgrim army com-

menced a perilous retreat to Damietta, and when

the King of France, surrounded by a band of brave

knights, undertook the duty of bringing up the rear
—on that occasion the post of honour.

But Louis was in no condition to occupy such a
position with advantage. He was not fully recovered
from his sickness, and so weak, that he could hardly
. bear the weight of his armour, or support himself on
his white charger. Neither helmet nor cuirass wore
he; nor had he any weapon save hissword; nor had
he sufficient strength to wield his sword to any
purpose in the event of a close encounter,

And, as it happened, the post of honour speedily
became the post of danger. As Bisset had predicted,
the Saracens lost not a minute in availing themselves
of the bridge that had been left standing. In an
incredibly brief space of time, they contrived to cross
the canal in such numbers, that the plain on the
Damietta side was covered with turbaned war-
riors, bent on the destruction of their foes; and, in
the darkness of the night, their cavalry charged

iD
166 THE BOY CRUSADERS,

constantly, and with deadly effect, on the retiring and
dispirited rear of the Crusaders.

Of course, the plight of Louis and his comrades
every hour became more deplorable. They fell into
disorder; they ran against and impeded each other;
and eries of anger and despair were mingled with
the neighing of horses, and the clash of arms.
Earnestly they prayed for day, that they might, at
least, ascertain their real position; but, when day
came, it brought no comfort. In fact, when the
rising sun revealed their diminished and diminishing
numbers, and the formidable force of enemies who
surrounded them—here a handful of men—there a
host—the very boldest of the Crusaders gave them-
selves up for lost, and a simultaneous cry of terror
and dismay bade from their scanty ranks. |

‘Gentlemen,’ said Louis, calm in the midst of peal
‘droop not. At the great battle of Antioch, Godfrey
of Eouillon, and his companions, had worse odds
than we.’

‘And they conquered,’ said Walter de Chatillon,
striving to banish apprehension, ‘and we may
conquer.’

‘Yes,’ replied Louis, ‘they had faith in God's
protection, and confidence in the holiness of their
cause; and it seemed to them that while the strugele
was well-nigh hopeless, the blessed martyrs—George,
Demetrius, and Theodore, came to aid them, and
assure them of victory.’

‘Ha,’ said Bisset, the English knight, as if speak-
ing to himself, ‘I have heard that some saw St.
George in tre air, with an army of white horses; but
GEOFFREY DE SEGRINES. 167

these did no doubt look through the spectacles of
fancy.’

Louis turned, bent his brow, and darted upon the
speaker a glance of keen reproach, which might have
found fuller expression in words. But there was
no time for argument or admonition; for at that
moment the Saracens made one of their fiery charges,
and though the French warriors defended themselves
and their king with heroism, they could not hope
that valour would ultimately save them. While
Chatillon and Bisset, now charging singly, now side by
side, did wonders in keeping a space clear around
the king and the royal standard, Geoffrey de Segrines,
adhering to the side of Louis, wielded his sword with
such effect that he drove off, one by one, the horsemen
who darted forth from the Saracen ranks.

‘In truth,’ said the brave Frenchman, when com-
plimented by Bisset on his exploits, ‘I know not how
it is; but to me, it seems that the danger of this day
has doubled my-strength.’

‘On my faith,’ replied Bisset, ‘I am at a loss
whether more to admire your valour or your vigi-
lance. Your care of your good king reminds me of
the watchful servant who carefully drives away the
flies from his master’s cup.’

But brief were the intervals allowed even for such
an exchange of sentiments. Now secure of victory,
and. stimulated by enthusiasm and fanaticism, the
Saracens grew bolder and more audacious in their
attacks. Urged on by their dervishes and imaums,
who had flocked to the host of Saracens to remind
them that they were fighting in the cause of the
168 THE BOY CRUSADERS,

prophet, they became more and more eager for
carnage and blood, and the Crusaders less and less
capable of a stubborn resistance. At length, on
reaching the little town of Minieh, the Crusaders
acknowledged that they could no longer continue the
retreat; and, halting, they drew up ina body outside
the town, with the ake resolution of eee till
they fell.

But by this time Louis was utterly exhausted ; and
Negrines, conducting him into the court, lifted him
from his steed, and carried him, ‘ weak as a child in
its mother’s lap,’ into a house, expecting every mo-
ment to be his last. Nor did the prospects of the
Crusaders outside improve in the king’s absence.
Alarming rumours, vaguely flying about the town,
reached their ears and depressed their hearts; and,
while they were still in panic and incertitude, the
Saracens made an onset with more than their former
ferocity. Soon all was confusion and carnage. It
seemed, indeed, that nothing but the hearts’ blood
of the Crusaders would satisfy the vindictive cravings
of their foes; and so utterly dispirited by adversity
and defeat, and pestilence, were knights formerly
renowned as brave among the bravest that they al-
lowed themselves, ates without resisting, to be
slaughtered in heaps.

Naturally, however, there were striking exceptions;
and none were more remarkable than Chatillon an
Bisset; who, when Louis was conducted into Munieh,
took up their post hard by an orange grove, and close
to awall at the entrance of the narrow street leading
to the house into which Segrines had carried the king.
DEATH OF CHATILLON, 169

Nothing could have exceeded Chatillon’s fiery
valour. At one moment. he rushed like lhghtnine
among the Saracens, scattered them, and cut them
down. Then after reining back to the wall to draw out
the arrows and darts that adhered to his cuirass, he re-
turned to the charge, rising in his stirrups, and shout-
ing—‘ Chatillon, knights—Chatillon to the rescue.’

Meanwhile Bisset exerted himself with no less
courage and prowess. Scorning his danger, and
scorning his foes, he charged among the Saracens,
with shouts -of—‘ Holy Cross, Holy Cross! Down with
the pagan dogs! Down with the slaves of Mahound
andTermagaunt!’ Nothing could resist the vehemence
of his attack. In vain were all attempts to drag him
from his steed. Before his mighty battle-axe the
Saracens seemed to shake and fall as corn before the
reaper.

At length Chatillon, mortally wounded, dropt from
his horse, and the Saracen who had wounded him
springing forward seized the French knight’s steed,
which was one sheet of blood and foam. Bisset cleft
the Saracen’s skull to the teeth, and laughed defiantly
as he avenged the fall of his comrade-in-arms.

But Bisset was now alone; and his situation was
so utterly desperate, that any ordinary man, even in
that feudal and fighting age, would have relinquished
all hope and yielded to fate. The English knight had
no inclination to do anything of the kind. Rapidly
his eye measured the ground; as rapidly his brain
calculated the chances of reaching the orange grove ;
and as rapidly he arrived at the conclusion that he
could cut his way through the crowd. No sooner
170 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

had he settled this than he wasted not a moment in
hesitation. Drawing back towards the wall, and
halting for a moment, with his face to his foes, to
breathe his panting steed, he once more, with battle-
axe in hand, charged forward upon his now recoiling
foes, but this time not to return. Nothing daunted by
the darts and arrows that flew around him, he deliber-
ately pursued the course which his eye had marked
out, literally felling to the earth all who attempted to
stop his progress, but skillfully avoiding foes whom
it was not necessary to encounter. Only a man of
the highest courage would have made such an
attempt: only a man of the strongest will would
have persevered.

Now Bisset had both courage and strength of will,
and in spite of all the chances against him, he did
reach the orange grove, and making his way through
it as well as he could, found himself in the verge of
a wood of palms and sycamores. But he himself was
wounded; his horse was bleeding in a dozen places;
and close behind him were three Saracens, well
mounted, and thirsting for his blood. It may seem
to the reader, that such being the circumstances,
Bisset might as well have fallen at Mansourah or
with Walter de Chatillon at the entrance to the
narrow street leading to the house to which the king
had been carried. But, certainly, that was by no
means his view of the case; for he was one of
those warriors who never despair; and he turned on
his pursuers like a lion at bay.

‘Surely,’ said he, speaking to himself, ‘wounded
and weary as I am, I should be but a poor Christian
BISSET HEWS HIS WAY. 171

knight if I could not deal with three pagan
dogs.’

And terrible, even to brave foes, was the ferocity
and fury with which Bisset turned upon the Sara-
cens. Mighty was the force with which he swung
a battle-axe, ponderous enough to have served as a
weapon to Coeur de Lion. Crushed by one swoop of
the axe fell the first of the pursuers—down, as it
again swung on high, fell the second, who a moment
earlier was uttering threats of vengeance. But the
English knight had no inclination to encounter the
third antagonist. His horse, as he felt, was sinking ;
he himself was weakened by loss of blood; and,
quick as thought, he turned towards the wood of
palms and sycamores.

But a new difficulty presented itself£ Between
Bisset and the wood was a very deep ditch which
at another time would have made him pause. Now,
however, he did not hesitate, even for an instant. He
touched his steed with the spur; he spoke as if im-
ploring the noble animal to make a last effort; and
the result was a gallant bound. But the effort was
too much. In exerting itself to scramble up the
opposite bank, the good steed broke its back; and
the knight, freeing his limbs from its corse, quickly
drew his dagger and relieved it from suffering.

The delay, however, had proved dangerous. Even
as he gained one bank of the ditch the Saracen was
at the other, and preparing to launch a javelin. One
moment only intervened between the Crusader and
death ; but that moment was not neglected. With
his remaining strength Bisset raised his battle-axe,
1Y2 THE BOY CRUSADERS,

whirled it with irresistible force, and, as the weapon
whizzed through the air, the Saracen dropped from
his horse and rolled into the ditch, the water of which
immediately became red with his blood.

Not a moment did Bisset now waste in getting under
cover of the wood. For full five minutes he neither
halted nor looked behind. At length he stopped
under a palm tree; and taking out one of those little
crosses which the Crusaders carried with them for
purposes of prayer, and which are now symbolised by
figures on the shield of many a Crusader’s descendant,
he knelt before it, and invoked the protection and aid
of God and the saints to shield him from danger and
restore him to the land of his fathers.

But almost ere the prayer was uttered, Bisset
started at the sound of footsteps; and as he turned
his head his brain reeled; and, after grasping at the
tree for support, he sank motionless on the ground.
173

CHAPTER XXVIII.
JOINVILLE IN PERIL.

HILE King Louis and the brave companions of
\ ‘his ill-starred retreat were seized as captives, or
mercilessly massacred by the Saracens at Minieh, the
sick and wounded Crusaders who embarked on the
Nile were not more fortunate. In order to understand
the extent of their dangers and sufferings, it is
necessary to refer to the chronicle of the good Lord
of Joinville—who, still suffering from disease, em-
barked with his knights and followers, including Guy
Muschamp, not yet recovered from the sickness by
which he had been prostrated.

Nor is it possible to peruse the seneschal’s simple
narrative without profound interest. In reading his
account of this disastrous expedition, we are trans-
ported, in imagination, to the thirteenth century,
and witness, with the mind’s eye, the scenes in which
he was an actor, and gradually come to feel as if we
were not reading a chronicle penned centuries ago,
but listening to a Crusader who, just returned from
the East, and seated on the dais of the czstle hall,
tells his story over the wine-cup to his kinsmen
and neighbours assembled at the festive board.
'74 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

It was evening; and Joinville, who was suffering
fearfully from the prevailing malady, perceiving that
everyone was preparing to depart towards Damietta,
withdrew to his galley, with his chaplain, and such of
his company, including Guy Muschamp, as had es-
caped the pestilence, and the swords of the Saracens ;
and no sooner did darkness descend over the hill,
than he commanded his captain to raise the anchor,
and float down the stream.

‘My lord,’ replied the man, ‘I dare not; for
between us and Damietta are the large galleys of the
Saracens, who would infallibly capture us.’

And at this moment a terrible spectacle arrested
Joinville’s attention. It happened that the king’s
seamen were waiting to take the sick and wounded on
board; but many of the sick and wounded were still
in the camp on the banks of the river. Suddenly,
by the light of fires which the sailors had lighted for
the comfort of the sick, Joinville saw the Saracens
enter the camp, and gratify their thirst for blood by
a general massacre. In great alarm, the king’s
seamen cut their cables; and while Joinville’s men
were raising their anchor, the huge galleys came
down upon them with such force, that he expected
every moment to be sunk. However he escaped this
danger, and made some way down the Nile. But it
speedily appeared that the Crusaders who had em-
barked on the river were not to be more fortunate in
their attempt to reach Damietta than were those who
remained on shore.

Joinville very soon discovered that he had scarcely
a chance of escape. During the night, a tempest
THE SARACENS SHOOT BOLTS, 175

arose; and the wind blowing with great force towards
Damietta drove the vessels of the Crusaders straight
in the way of the sultan’s fleet, and about break of
day they tound themselves close to the galleys of the
Saracens. Immediately on observing the Crusaders
approaching, the Saracens raised loud shouts, and
shot large bolts, and threw Greek fire in such quanti-
ties, that it seemed as if the stars were falling from
the heavens.

Great, of course, was the alarm of the Crusaders.
Joinville and his company, however, gained the
current, and endeavoured to push forward; but the
wind becoming more and more violent drove them
against the banks, and close to the Saracens, who,
having already taken several vessels, were murdering
the crews, and throwing the dead bodies into the
rivet.

On seeing what was taking place, and finding that
the Saracens began to shoot bolts at his galley,
Joinville, to protect himself, put on his armour. He
had hardly done so, when some of his people began
to shout in great consternation.

‘My lord, my lord,’ cried they, ‘ because the Sara-
cens menace us, our steersman is going to run us
ashore, where we shall all be murdered.’

At that moment Joinville was so faint that he
had seated himself, but instantly rising he drew his
sword and advanced.

‘Beware what you do,’ said he; ‘for I vow to slay
the first person who attempts to run us ashore.’

‘My lord,’ said the captain in a resolute tone, ‘it is
impossible to proceed; so you must make up your
m6 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

mind whether you will be landed on shore, or
stranded in the mud of the banks.’

‘Well,’ replied Joinville, ‘I choose rather to be
run on a mud bank than to be carried ashore, where
even now I sce our people being slaughtered.”

But escape proved impossible. Almost as he
spoke, Joinville perceived four of the sultan’s galleys
making towards his barge; and, giving himself up
for lost, he took a little casket containing his jewels,
and threw it into the Nile. However, it turned out
that, though he could not save his liberty, there was
still a chance of saving his life.

‘My lord,’ said the mariner, ‘ you must permit me
to say you are the king’s cousin; if not, we are as
cood as murdered.’

‘Say what you please,’ replied Joinville.

And now Joinville met with a protector, whose
coming he attributed to the direct interposition of
heaven. ‘It was God,’ says he, ‘who then, asI verilv
believe, sent to my aid a Saracen, who was a subject
of the Emperor of Germany. He wore a pair of
coarse trowsers, and, swimming straight to me, he
came into my vessel and embraced my knees. “ My
lord,” he said, “if youdo not what I shall advise, you
are lost. In order to save yourself, you must leap
into the river, without being observed.” He had a
cord thrown to me, and I leaped into the river,
followed by the Saracen, who saved me, and conducted
me to a galley, wherein were fourteen score of men,
besides those who had boarded my vessel. But this
good Saracen held me fast in his arms.’ |

Shortly after, Joinville with the good Saracens
JOINVILLE A PRISONER. — 177

aid was landed, and the other Saracens rushed on
him to cut his throat, and he expected no better fate.
But the Saracen who had saved him would not quit
his hold.

‘He is the king’s cousin,’ shouted he; ‘the king’s
cousin.’

‘I had already,’ says Joinville, ‘felt the knife at
my throat, and cast myself on my knees; but, by
the hands of this good Saracen, God delivered me
from this peril; and I was led to the castle where
the Saracen chiefs had assembled.’

When Joinville was conducted with some of his
company, along with the spoils of his barge, into the
presence of the emirs, they took off his coat of mail;
and perceiving that he was very ill, they, from pity,
threw one of his scarlet coverlids lined with minever
over him, and gave hima white leathern girdle, with
which he girded the coverlid round him, and placed a
small cap on his head. Nevertheless, what with his
fright and his malady, he soon began to shake so
that his teeth chattered, and he complained of thirst.

On this the Saracens gave him some water in a
cup; but he no sooner put it to his lips, than the
water began to run back through his nostrils.
‘Having an imposthume in my throat,’ says he,
‘imagine what a wretched state I was in; and I

looked more to death than life.’
When Joinville’s attendants saw the water running

through his nostrils, they began to weep; and the
good Saracen who had saved him asked them why
they were so sorrowful.

‘ Because,’ they replied, ‘our lord is nearly dead.’
178 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

And thereupon the good Saracen, taking pity
on their distress, ran to tell the emirs; and one of
them coming, told Joinville to be of good cheer, for
he would bring a drink that should cure him in two
days. Under the influence of this beverage, the
seneschal ere long recovered; and when he was well,
he was sent for by the admiral, who commanded the
sultan’s galleys. | |

‘Are you, asked the admiral, ‘the king’s cousin,
as was reported ?’

‘No,’ answered Joinville, ‘I am not;’ and he in-
formed the admiral why it had been stated.

‘You were well advised,’ said the admiral ; § for
otherwise you would have been all murdered, and
cast into the river. Have you any acquaintance with
the Emperor Frederic, or are you of his lineage ?’

‘Truly,’ replied Joinville, ‘I have heard my mother
say that I am the emperor’s second cousin.’

‘Ah,’ said the admiral, ‘I rejoice to hear it; and
I love you all the better on that account.’

It appears that Joinville became quite friendly
with the admiral, and was treated by him with
kindness; and, on Sunday, when it was ordered that
all the Crusaders who had been taken prisoners on
the Nile should be brought to a castle on the banks,
Joinville was invited to go thither in the admiral’s
company. On that occasion, the seneschal had to
endure the horror of seeing his chaplain dragged
from the hold of his galley and instantly killed and
flung into the water; and scarcely was this over
When the chaplain’s clerk was dragged out of the
hold, so weak that he could hardly stand, felled on
THE GOOD SARACEN, 179

the head with a mortar, and cast after his master,
In this manner the Saracens dealt with all the
captives who were suffering from sickness.

Horrorstruck at such a destruction of human life,
Joinville, by means of the good Saracen who had
saved his life, informed them that they were doing
very wrong; but they treated the matter lightly.

‘We are only destroying men who are of no use,’
said they; ‘for they are much too ill with their
disorders to be of any service.’

Soon after witnessing this harrowing spectacle,
Joinville was requested by the Saracen admiral to
mount a palfrey; and they rode together, over a
bridge, to the place where the Crusaders were im-
prisoned, At the entrance of a large pavilion the
good Saracen, who had been Joinville’s preserver,
and had always followed him about, stopped, and
requested his attention.

‘Sir,’ said he, ‘you must excuse me, but I cannot
come further. I entreat you not to quit the hand
of this boy, otherwise the Saracens will kill him.’

‘Who is he?’ asked Joinville.

‘The boy’s name,’ replied the good Saracen, ‘is
Bartholomew de Bar, and he is son of the Lord
Montfaucon de Bar.’

And now conducted by the admiral, and leading
the little boy by the hand, Joinville entered the
pavilion, where the nobles and knights of France,
with more than ten thousand persons of inferior rank,
were confined in a court, large in extent, and sur-
rounded by walls of mud. From this court the
captive Christians were led forth, one at a time, and
180 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

asked if they would become renegades, yes or no,
He who answered ‘ Yes,’ was put aside; but he who
answered ‘ No,’ was instantly beheaded.

Such was the plight of the Christian warriors who
so recently had boasted of being about to conquer
Kgypt. Already thirty thousand of the Crusaders
had perished; and the survivors were so wretched, that
they almost envied their comrades who had gone
where the weary are at rest.

Now in the midst of all this suffering and anxiety,
what had become of Guy Muschamp? Had the gay -
young squire, who boasted that if killed by the
Saracens he would die laughing, been drowned in the
Nile, or was he a captive in that large court sur-
rounded by walls of mud? Neither. But as our
narrative proceeds, the reader will see that Guy
Muschamp’s fate was hardly less sad than the fate of
those who had found a watery grave, or of those who
were offered the simple choice of denying their God
or losing their lives,
lol

CHAPTER XXVIT.
NEWS OF DISASTER.

HILE Louis of France and his nobles and
knights were exposed to such danger at the
hands of their enemies, from whom they bad no reason
to expect forbearance, Queen Margaret remained at
Damietta, with her ladies, expecting to hear of battles
won and fortresses taken. At length, one morning
about sunrise, a strange and heart-rending cry re-
sounded through the city, and reached the ears of
the queen in her palace. What was it? was it fire ?
No. Another and another wail of agony. What could
it be? The approach of an enemy? No. It was
merely tidings of the massacre of Minieh!

Margaret of Provence summoned to her presence
Oliver de Thermes, whom King Louis had left at
Damietta in command of the garrison.

‘Sir knight,’ said the queen, ‘ what is all that noise
I hear ?’

The warrior hesitated.

‘Speak, sir,’ said Margaret, losing patience; ‘I
command you to tell me what has happened.’

‘Madam,’ replied the knight, ‘the news as yct is
but vague and uncertain.’

M
182 THE BOY {RUSADERS,

‘Answer me, directly,’ said the queen, speaking in
a tone of authority. ‘What of the King of France?
What of the warriors who marched from Damietta
under the banner of St. Denis ?’

‘Alas, madam,’ replied Sir Oliver, ‘I would fain
hope that the news is not true; but it certainly is
bruited about that the king is a captive, and that
the warriors of the Cross have fallen almost to a
man.’ |

Margaret did not answer; she did not even attempt —
to speak. Her colour went, she shuddered, tot-
tered, and would have fallen to the floor had not her
ladies rushed to her support. It was indeed a terrible
situation for that youthful matron, and—what made
matters more melancholy—she was about to become a
mother. )

And now Damietta was the scene of consternation
somewhat similar to that which pervaded Cairo, when
a pigeon carried thither intelligence of the victory
of the Count of Artois at Djédilé. . The ladies of the
Crusaders, the Countesses of Poictiers and Provence,
and the melowed Countess of Artois, among the
number, bewailed the fate of their lords; the queen
was afflicted to a terrible degree as i thought of
the king’s peril; and many people only felt concerned
about their own extreme peril, Of course much
selfishness was exhibited under the circumstances;
and the Pisans and Genoese set a bad example by
preparing to save themselves, and leave the city to
its fate. But, on hearing of their intention, the queen
ordered that the chief persons among them should
be brought to her preserice, and addressed them in
CCURAGE OF QUEEN MARGARET. 183

a way likely to convince them of the selfishness of
their conduct.

‘Gentlemen,’ said Margaret, rousing herself from
her prostration and raising her head; ‘as you love
God, do not leave this city; for if you do. you will
utterly ruin the king and his army, who are cap-
tives, and expose all within the walls to the ven-
geance of the Saracens.’

‘Madam,’ replied the Pisans and Genoese, utterly
unmoved by the royal lady’s distress, ‘we have no
provisions left, and we cannot consent to remain at
the risk of dying of hunger.’

‘Be under no such apprehension,’ said the queen
quickly; ‘you shall not die of hunger; I will cause
all the provisions in Damietta to be bought in the
kino’s name, and distributed forthwith.’

‘The Pisans and Genoese on hearing this assurance
consented to remain in Damietta; and, after an ex-
penditure of three hundred and sixty thousand livres,
Margaret provided for their subsistence. But the
men who were thus bribed to remain as a garrison
were not likely to make any very formidable resist-
ance in the event of an attack taking place; and
such an event was no longer improbable. Indeed
rumours, vague but most alarming, reached Damietta
that a Saracenic host was already on its way to capture
the city.

The rumour that the Moslems were actually coming
made the bravest men in Damictta quake, and inspired
_ the ladies who were in the city with absolute terror.
Even the courage of the queen, who had just given
birth to her son John, failed; and her faculties
184 THE BOY CRUSADERS,

well-nigh deserted her. One moment her imagination
conjured up visions of Saracens butchering her hus-
band ; at another she shrieked with terror at the idea
that the Saracens had taken the city and were
entering her chamber. Ever and anon she sank into
feverish sleep, and then, wakened by some fearful
dream, sprang up, shouting, ‘ Help! help! they are at

hand. I hear their lelies.’ |

It was while Margaret of Provence was in this
unhappy state of mind, that a French knight, who
was eighty years of age, but whose heart, in spite of
his four score of years, still overflowed with chivalry,
undertook the duty of guarding the door of her
chamber night and day.

<Mied daria said he, ‘be not alarmed. I am with
you. Banish your fears.’

‘Sir knight,’ exclaimed the unhappy queen, throw-
ing herself on her knees before him, ‘I have a favour
to ask. Promise that you will grant my request.’

‘I swear, madam, that I will comply with your
wishes,’ oe the aged knight.

‘Well, then,’ said the queen; ‘what I have to
request is this, that if the Saracens should take the
city, you, by the faith you have pledged, will rather
cut off my head than suffer me to fall into pass
hands.’

‘Madam,’ replied the veteran chevalier, ‘I had
already resolved on doing what you have asked, in
case the worst should befall,’
CHAPTER XXIX,
A WOUNDED PILGRIM.

T was long ere Walter Espec, struck down wounded
and bleeding at Mansourah, recovered possession
of his faculties sufficiently to recall the scenes through
which he had passed or even to understand what was
taking place around him. As time passed over,
however, consciousness returned; and he one day
became aware that he was stretched on a bed in a
chamber somewhat luxuriously furnished, and tended
by a woman advanced in years, who wore a gown of
russet, and a wimple which gave her a conventual
appearance.

Walter raised his head, and was about to speak,
when she suddenly left the room, and the squire was
left to guess, as he best might, where and under whose
care hewas. He attempted to rise; but the effort was
in vain. He put his hand to his head; but he found
that his long locks of fair hair were gone. He tried
to remember how he had got there; but, try as he
might, his memory would not bring him farther down
the stream of time, than the hour in which he fell
at Mansourah. All the rest was a blank or a feverish
dream of being rowed on ariver by Saracen boatmen,
186 THE BOY CRUSADERS,

and left at the portal of a hcuse which he had never
seen before. Gradually recalling all his adventures
since he left the castle of Wark, he remembered and
felt his hand for the amulet with which he had been
gifted by King Louis when at Cyprus. The ring was
there, and as Walter thought of the inscription he
felt something like hope.

But Walter was still weak from loss of blood and.
the fever which had been the consequence of wounds
and exposure, and he soon sank into a slumber.
When he again awoke to consciousness the woman in
russet was standing near him, and conversing with a
damsel whom Walter did nct at first see, but whose
tones, sweet and soft, manifested a strong interest in
his recovery. |

‘He will yet live,’ said the woman in russet, ‘and
rejoice we in it; for he is a young man; and tosuch
life must needs be dear.’

‘He will live,’ repeated the girl, ‘and our lady be
praised therefor; for it is sweet to live.’

‘In truth, noble demoiselle,’ said the woman in
russet, ‘the youth owes much to your solicitude;
but for your anxiety on his behalf, I hardly think he
would have struggled through the fever. However, if
you will remain and watch him for a brief space, I will
attend to the commands of my lady the queen, and
hasten to relieve you. Nay, it misbeseems not noble
maiden to tend a wounded warrior, especially a soldier
of the Cross; and, credit me, he will give you little
trouble. He lies as quiet and calm as if he were in
his shroud.’ ,

With these words the woman in russet departed ;
WALTER ESPEC’S VISION, 187

and the damsel, treading so softly that her footstep
made not the slightest noise, moved about the room
in silent thought, now turning to gaze on the wounded
squire, now looking from the casement. Walter, now
fully awake, began to experience a strong feeling of
curiosity; and turning his head directed his gaze,
not without interest, towards his youthful nurse. She
was not more than sixteen, and still more beautiful
than young. She had features exquisitely lovely in
their delicacy and expression, deep blue eyes with
long dark fringes, and dark brown hair which, ac-
cording to the fashion of the period, was turned up
behind and enclosed in a caul of network. Her form
was already elegant in its proportions; but it inclined
to be taller, and gave promise of great perfection,
Her charms were set off by the mourning dress which
she wore, and by the robe called the quintise, which
was an upper tunic without sleeves, with bordered
vandyking and scalloping worked and notched in
various patterns, worn so long behind that it swept
the floor, but in front held up gracefully with one
hand so as not to impede the step.

Walter was charmed, and a little astonished as his
eye alighted on a face and form so fascinating; and,
in spite of his prostration and utter weakness, he
gazed on her with lively interest and some wonder.

‘Holy Katherine!’ exclaimed he to himself; ¢ what
a lovely vision. I marvel who she is, and where I
am ; and, as he thus soliloquised, the girl turned round,
and not without flutter and alarm perceived that he
was awake and watching her.

‘Noble demoiselle, heed me not;’ said Walter
188 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

earnestly, ‘but rather tell me, since, if I understand
aright, I owe my lite to you—how am [I ever suffi-
ciently to prove my gratitude ?’

‘Ah, sir squire,’ replied she, ‘ you err in supposing
the debt to be on your side. It is I who owe-you a
life, and not you who owe a life to me; and,’ added
she, struggling to repress tears, ‘my heart fills when
I remember how you did for me, albeit a stranger,
what, under the circumstances, no other being on
earth would have ventured to do.’

‘By Holy Katherine, noble demoiselle,’ said Walter,
wondering at her words; ‘I should in truth deem it
a high honour to have rendered such as you any
service. But that is a merit which I cannot claim;
for, until this hour, unless my memory deceives me,
I never saw your face.’

The countenance of the girl evinced disappointment,
and the tears started to her eyes.

‘Ah, sir, sir,’ said she, with agitation; ‘I am she
whom, on the coast of Cyprus, you saved from the
waves of the sea.’ }

Walter’s heart beat rather quick as he learned that
it was Adeline de Brienne who stood before him; for,
though her very face was unknown to him, her name
had strangely mixed up with many of his day-dreams ;
and it was not without confusion that, after a pause,
he continued the conversation.

‘Pardon my ignorance, noble demoiselle,’ said he,
‘and vouchsate, I pray you, to inform me where I
now am; for I own to you that I am somewhat
perplexed.’

‘You are in Damietia.’
ADELINE DE BRIENNE. 189

‘In Damietta!’ exclaimed Walter, astonished; ‘and
how came I to Damietta? My latest recollection is
having been struck from my steed at+Mansourah,
after my lord, the Earl of Salisbury, and all the
English warriors, had fallen before the weapons of
the Saracens; and how I come to be in Damietta is
more than I can guess.’

‘Mayhap; but I can tell you,’ said a frank hearty
voice; and, as Walter started at the sound, Bisset,
the English knight, stood before him; and Adeline
de Brienne, not without casting a kindly look behind,
vanished from the chamber.

‘Wonder upon wonders,’ cried Walter, as the knight
took his hand; ‘I am now more bewildered than
before. Am I in Damietta, and doI see you, and in
the body ?’

‘Even so,’ replied Bisset; ‘and for both cireum-
stances we are wholly indebted to Beltran, the Christian
renegade. He saved you from perishing at Mansou-
rah, and conveyed you down the Nile, and brought
you to the portal of this palace; and he came to me
when I was at Minieh under a tree, sinking with
fatigue, and in danger of bleeding to death; and he
found the means of conveying me hither also; so I
say that, were he ten times a renegade, he merits our
gratitude.’

‘Certes,’ said Walter, ‘and, methinks, also our
prayers that his heart may be turned from the error
of his ways, and that he may return to the faith which
Christians hold.’

‘Amen,’ replied Bisset.

* But tell me, sir knight,’ continued Walter, eagerly,
190 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

what has happened, since that dreadful day, to the
pugrim army ? and if you know aught of my brother-
in-arms, Guy Muschamp ?’

‘Sir squire,’ answered Bisset, sadly; ‘ for your first
question, I grieve to say, that has come to pass which
I too shrewdly predicted—all the boasting of the
French has ended in disaster—the king and _ his
nobles being prisoners, and most of the other pilgrims
slain or drowned; and, for your second, as to Guy
Muschamp, the English squire, who was a brave and
gallant youth, I own I entertain hardly a doubt that,
ere this, he is food for worms or fishes.’

Walter Espec uttered an exclamation of horror,
and, without another word, sank back on his piliow.
191

CHAPTER XXX.
ST. LOUIS IN CHAINS.

; HEN King Louis was led away by the faithful

Seorines, and when he was so exhausted that

he had to be lifted from his steed and carried into a

house, and when the Crusaders outside were in dis-

may and despair, Philip de Montfort entered the

chamber where the saintly monarch was, and pro-
poséd to renew negotiations with the Saracens.

‘Sire,’ said De Montfort, ‘I have just seen the
emir with whom I formerly treated; and, so it be
your good pleasure, I will seek him out, and demand
a cessation of hostilities,’ |

‘Go,’ replied Louis; ‘and, since it can no better
be, promise to submit to the conditions on which the
sultan formerly insisted.’

Accordingly De Montfort went; and the Saracens,
still fearing their foes, and remembering that the
French held Damietta, agreed to treat. A truce was,
indeed, on the point of being concluded. Montfort
had given the emir a ring; the emir had taken off
his turban, and their hands were about to meet;
when a Frenchman, named Marcel, rushed in and
spoiled all.
192 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

‘Seigneurs,’ said he, interrupting the conference,
‘noble knights of France, surrender yourselves all!
The king commands you by me. Do not cause him
to be put to death.’

On hearing this message, the emir withdrew his
~ hand, returned De Montfort’s ring. put on his turban,
and intimated that the negotiation was at an end.

‘God is powerful,’ said he, ‘and it is not customary
to treat with beaten enemies.’

And now it was that there ensued such a scene as
Minieh had never witnessed. Almost as the nego-
tiation ended, Louis was seized, violently handled
and put in chains. Both the Count of Poictiers and
the Count of Anjou were at the same time made
prisoners ; and the bulk of the warriors accompanying
the king had scarcely the choice between surrender
and death; for nothing, as has been said, but their
hearts’ blood would satisfy the vindictive cravings of
their foes; and, when the king’s captivity became
known, many of those who had formerly been most
intrepid, remained motionless and incapable of the
shihtest resistance.

About the time when King Louis was put in
chains, and when Bisset, the English knight, was
endeavouring to escape death or rather captivity, the
suitan arrived at Minieh, and, without any display
of generosity for the vanquished, took measures for
improving his victory to the utmost. The king and
his brothers who, like himself, were bound hand and
foot, were conducted in triumph to a boat of war.
The oriflamme—that banner so long the pride of
France —was now carried in mockery; the crosses
THE SAINT-KING IN CAPTIVITY. 193

and images, which the Crusaders had with them as
symbols of their religious faith, were trampled
scornfully under foot; and, with trumpets sounding
and kettle-drums clashing, the royal captives were
marched into Mansourah.

It was to the house of Fakreddin Ben Lokman,
the secretary of the sultan, that Louis was escorted ;
and, on arriving there, he was given into the custody
of the Kunuch Sahil. But, abandoned by fortune, and
in the power of his enemies, Louis was still himself.
In chains and captivity he exhibited the dignity of a
king and the resignation of a Christian, and his jailers
could not refrain from expressing their astonishment
at the serene patience with which he bore adversity.
Of all his property, he had only saved his book of
psalms; and daily, while consoling himself with re-
citing from its pages, he was inspired with strength
and resolution to bear his misfortunes, and to raise
his thoughts far above the malice of his foes.

Meanwhile, at the court of the sultan, everything
was not going smoothly. From the beginning, the
emirs and Mamelukes had looked with envy and
suspicion on the favourites brought by Touran Chah
from Mesopotamia; and such feelings had not died
away. Many of the favourites ere long were substi-
tuted for the ministers of the late sultan; and the
emirs and Mamelukes not only complained loudly of
this to Touran Chah, but reproached him bitterly for
the way in which he disposed of the spoil of the
Crusaders. |

‘ How is this?’ asked they ; ‘ you are bestowing the
spoils of the vanquished Franks, not on the men who
194 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

kave borne the burden of the war, but on men whose
sole merit consists in having come from the banks of
the Euphrates to the Nile.’

Now, the sultan’s favourites were not unaware of
the unfriend!y feeling with which they were regarded
by the Mameluke chiefs. Indeed, they saw all the
dangers of their position, and considered it politic,
under the circumstances, to reduce the influence of
the emirs and Mamelukes by bringing about a treaty
with the Crusaders.

‘In these people,’ said they to the sultan, * you
have enemies far more dangerous than the Christians,
Nothing will content them but reigning in your stead.
They never cease to boast of their victories, as if they
alone had conquered the Franks, and as if the God |
of Mahomet had not sent pestilence and famine to
aid you in triumphing. But hasten to terminate the
war, that you may strengthen your power within; and
then you will be able to reign in reality.’

As soon as ‘Touran Chah was convinced that the
emirs and Mamelukes entertained projects of ambi-
tion dangerous to his power, and that war was
favourable to their designs, he resolved to show the
chiefs how little he regarded their opinions; and,
without even consulting them, he sent some of his
favourites to the house of Lokman, and empowered
them to treat with Louis.

‘ King,’ said the ambassador, ‘I come from the
sultan, to inform you that he will restore you to
liberty, on condition that you surrender to him the
cities of Palestine now held by the Franks.’ |

‘The cities of Palestine are not mine to give,’
THE BERNICLES. 195

replied Louis, calmly; ‘and I cannot pretend to
dispose of them.’

‘But beware of rashly refusing to submit to the
eultan’s terms,’ said the ambassador; ‘for you know
not what may happen. He will send you to the
caliph at Bagdad, who will imprison you for life; or
he will cause you to be led throughout the East, to
exhibit to all Asia a Christian king reduced to
slavery.’

‘IT am the sultan’s prisoner,’ replied Louis, un-
moved, ‘and he can do with me what he pleases.’

On hearing this answer, the ambassadors intimated
their intention of employing personal violence; and,
one of them having stamped three times with his
foot, the Eunuch Sahil entered, followed by the
jailers, bearing that frightful instrument of torture,
known as ‘ the bernicles.’

Now this terrible engine was made of pieces of
wood pierced with holes, into which the legs of the
criminal were put; and the holes were at so great a
distance from each other, and could be forced ta so
great an extension, that the pain was about the most
horrible that could be produced. Moreover, the
holes being at various distances, the legs of the
victim could be inserted into those that extended
them to the greatest distance, and while the pain
inflicted was more than flesh and blood could bear,
means were, at the same time, used to break or dis-
locate all his small bones. It was an instrument of
punishment reserved for the worst of criminals; and
no torture was deemed so awful as that which it was
capable of inflicting.
196 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

‘What do you say to be put in this engine of
punishment?’ asked the ambassador, pointing signifi-
cantly to the bernicles.

‘I have already told you,’ replied Louis, unmoved,
‘that I am the sultan’s prisoner, and that he can do
with me as he pleases.’

In fact, the courage of Louis was proof against any
danger to his own person; and he held all the
menaces of his captors so cheap, that they scarcely
knew how to deal with him. At length, the sultan
determined to propose terms more likely to be ac-
ceptable to the saint-king, and again sent ambas-
sadors to his prison, with the object of bringing
about a treaty.

‘ King,’ said the ambassador, ‘ the sultan has sent
to ask how much money you will give for your
ransom, besides restoring Damietta?’

‘In truth,’ replied Louis, ‘ I scarcely know what
answer to make; but, if the sultan will be contented
with a reasonable sum, I will write to the queen to
pay it for myself and my army.’

‘ But wherefore write to the queen, who is but a
woman?’ asked the ambassador somewhat surprised.

‘She is my lady and companion,’ answered Louis,
even at that moment mindful of the principles of
chivalry ; ‘and it is only reasonable that her consent —
should be obtained.’

‘ Well,’ said the ambassador, ‘if the queen will
pay a million golden bezants, the sultan will set you
free.’

‘ However,’ said Louis, with dignity, ‘I must tell
you that, as King of France, I cannot be redeemed
THE RANSOM. 1S;

by money; but a million of bezants will be paid as
the ransom of my army, and Damietta given up in
exchange for my own freedom.’

After some negotiations the terms were agreed to;
and the sultan not only concluded the treaty joyfully,
but expressed his admiration of the nobility of spirit -
which Louis had displayed.

‘By my faith!’ said Touran Chah to the ambas-
sador, ‘this Frenchman is generous and noble, seeing
that he does not condescend to bargain about so large
a sum of money, but instantly complies with the first
demand. Go,’ added the sultan, ‘and tell him, from
me, that I make him a present of a fifth of the sum,
so that he will only have to pay four-fifths; and that
I will command all the principal nobles and his
creat officers to be embarked in four of my largest
galleys, and conducted safely to Damietta.’

It was Thursday before the Feast of Ascension;
and, while the King of France, and the Crusaders
were conveyed down the Nile in galleys, Touran Chah
travelled by land from Mansourah, in order to receive
Damietta, and perform the conditions of peace. On
reaching Pharescour, however, the sultan halted to
dine with his chiefs; and, while the other Crusaders
lay in their galleys on the river, the king and his
brethren were invited to land, and received into a
pavilion, where they had an interview with the sultan,
when Saturday was appointed for the payment of the
golden bezants and the surrender of Damietta. But
long ere Saturday a terrible tragedy was to occur,
and render Pharescour memorable as the scene of a
deed of violence, startling both to Asia and Europe.

N
198 TUE BOY CRUSADERS,

Already, while the sultan held his interview with the
King of France and the Counts of Poictiers and
Anjou, everything was prepared; and soon after
Touran Chah had left Louis and his brothers shut
up in the pavilion, they were roused by loud shouts
of distress and a mighty tumult; and, while they
breathlessly asked each other whether the French
captives were being massacred or Damietta taken by
storm, in rushed twenty Saracens, their swords red
and reeking with blood, and spots of blood on their
vestments and their faces, stamping, threatening
furiously, and uttering fierce cries,
199

CHAPTER XXXI,
THE TRAGEDY OF PHARESCOUR.

T Pharescour, on the margin of the Nile, the
Sultan of Egypt had a remarkable palace. It
appears to have heen constructed of wood, and
covered with cloth of brilliant colours, At the
entrance was a pavilion, where the emirs and chiefs
were in the habit of leaving their swords, when they
had audience of the sultan; and beyond this pavi-
lion was a handsome gateway which led to the great
hall where the sultan feasted; and adjoining the
great hall was a tower, by which the sultan ascended
to his private apartments.

Between the palace and the river was a spacious
lawn, in which there was a tower, to which the sultan
was wont to ascend when he wished to make obser-
vations on the surrounding country; and hard by
was an alley which led towards the margin of the
hill, and a summer-house formed of trellis-work and
covered with Indian linen, where he frequently re-
paired for the purpose of bathing.

The chroniclers of the period who write of the
crusade of St. Louis fully describe this palace. In-
deed, the- appearance of the place was strongly
ann THE BOY CRUSADERS,

impressed on the memory of the Crusaders. It was
there that Touran Chah, when on his way from Man-
sourah to Damietta, halted to receive the congratu-
lations of the Moslem chiefs on the victory that had
been achieved over the Franks; there, in their com-
pany, he celebrated his triumph bya grand banquet ;
and there was enacted the terribie tragedy that
exposed the surviving pilgrims to new dangers and
fresh trials. ,

By this time, indeed, the emirs and Mamelukes
had become so exasperated at the elevation of the
sultan’s favourite courtiers that they vowed ven-
geeance; and, in order to justify their project, they
ascribed to him the most sinister designs. It was
asserted that many of the emirs were doomed to die
on a certain day; and that, in the midst of a noc-
turnal orgy, Touran Chah had cut off the tops of
the flambeaux in his chamber, crying—‘ Thus shall
fly the heads of all the Mamelukes.’ In order to
avenge herself for the neglect to which she was
exposed under the new reign, Chegger Edour, the
sultana who had played so important a part in the
last days of Melikul Salih, exerted her eloquence to
stimulate the discontent; and the emirs and Mame-
lukes, having formed a conspiracy, only awaited a
convenient opportunity to complete their projects of
vengeance at a blow.

It was the day after his arrival at Pharescour, on
waich Touran Chah gave a banquet to the chiefs of
his army; and, as it happened, the company com-
prised the Mamelukes and the emirs who were, or
who deemed themselves, in danger. It would seem
A CONSPIRACY. 201

that everything went forward quietly and ceremo-
niously till the feast was ended, and the sultan rose
to ascend to his chamber. Not a moment, however,
was then lost. As soon as Touran Chah moved trom
table, Bibars Bendocdar, who carried the sultan’s
sword, struck the first blow, and instantly the others
rushed furiously upon their destined victim. Touran
Chah parried the blow of the Mameluke chief with
his hand; but the weapon. penetrated between two of
his fingers and cut up his arm.

‘ My lords,’ said he, taken by surprise; ‘I make
my complaint against this man, who has endeavoured
to kill me.’ .

‘Better that you should be slain: than live to
murder us, as you intend to do,’ cried all present,
with the exception of an envoy of the caliph, who
had arrived from Bagdad, and appeared much terri-
fied at the scene so suddenly presented.

Touran Chah looked round him in amazement ;
and, as he did so, he was seized with terror. How-
ever, the instinct of self-preservation did not desert
him. With a spring he bounded between the
motionless guards, escaped into the lawn, took refuge
in the tower, and looking from a window demanded
of the conspirators what they really wanted; but
they were not in a humour to spend time in talk.

‘Come down,’ cried they ; ‘you cannot escape us.’

“Assure me of safety, and I will willingly descend,’
said the sultan.

At this stage the envoy of the caliph, having
mounted his horse, came forward as if to interfere:
but the conspirators menaced him with instant death
202 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

if he did not return to his tent, and, still keenly
bent on completing their work of murder, ordered
the sultan to come down.

Touran Chah shook his head, as if declining the
invitation. |

‘Fool,’ cried the conspirators, scornfully, ‘ we have
the means of compelling you to descend, or to meeta
worse fate; and without further parley they com-
menced assailing the tower with Greek fire.

The Greek fire caught the cloth and timber, and
immediately the whole was in a blaze. Touran
Chah could no longer hesitate. One hope remained
to him, namely to rush towards the Nile, to throw
himself into the water, and to take refuge on board
one of the vessels that he saw anchored near the shore.
Accordingly he leaped from the blazing tower, with the
intention of rushing across the lawn. But the toils
were upon him. A nail having caught his mantle,
he, after remaining for a moment suspended, fell to
the ground. Instantly sabres and swords waved over
him; and he clung in a supplicating posture to
Octai, one of the captains of his guard; but Octai
repulsed him with contempt. Nevertheless, the con-
spirators hesitated; and they were still hesitating,
when Bibars Bendocdar, who was never troubled
either with fears or scruples, and who, indeed, had
struck the first blow, made a thrust go stern that
the sword remained sticking fast between the ribs of
the victim. Still resisting, however, the sultan con-
trived to drag himself to the Nile, with a hope of
reaching the galleys from which the captive Crusaders
witnessed the outrage; but some of the Mamelukes
TNE LAST OF THE LiOULITSS, £03

followed him into the water; and close to the galley
in which the Lord of Joinville was, the heir of
Saladin—the last of the Eioubites—died miserably.

It was now that the Mamelukes rushed into the
tent where Louis and his brothers were.

‘King,’ cried Octai, pointing to his bloody sword,
‘Touran Chah is no more. What will you give me
for having freed you from an enemy who meditated
your destruction as well as ours?’

Louis vouchsafed no reply.

‘What!’ cried the emir, furiously presenting the
point of his sword; ‘know you not that I am master
of your person? Make me a knight, or thou art a
dead man.’

‘Make thyself a Christian, and I will make thee a
knight,’ said Louis, calmly.

Rather cowed than otherwise with his reception,
and with the demeanour of the royal captive, Octai
retired ; and the French king and his brothers once
more breathed with as much freedom as men could
under the circumstances. But they were not long
left undisturbed. Scarcely had the Mameluke aspi-
rant for knighthood disappeared when the tent was
crowded with Saracens, who brandished their sabres
and threatened Louis with destruction.

‘Frenchman!’ cried they, addressing the king,
wildly and fiercely ; ‘art thou ignorant of thy danger,
or what may be the fate that awaits thee? Phares-
cour is not Mansourah, as events may convince thee
yet. Here thou mayest find a tomb instead of the
house of Lokman, and the two terrible angels,
Munkir and Nakir, instead of the Eunuch Sahil.’
204

CHAPTER XXXII.
PERILS AND SUSPENSE.

HE Saracen chiefs, after having dyed their sabres
in the blood of the sultan, did not confine their
menaces and violent demonstrations to the tent in
which the captive King of France was lodged. With
swords drawn and battle-axes on their shoulders,
thirty of them boarded the galley where Joinville
was with the Count of Brittany, Sir Baldwin d’Ebelin,
aud the Constable of Cyprus, and menaced them
with gestures and furious imprecations.

‘Il asked Sir Baldwin d’Ebelin,’ writes Joinville,
‘what they were saying; and he, understanding
Saracenic, replied that they were come to cut off our
heads, and shortly after I saw a large body of our
men on board confessing themselves to a monk of
La Trinité, who had accompanied the Count of
Flanders. Ino longer thought of any sin or evil I
had done, but that I was about to receive my death. |
In consequence, I fell on my knees at the feet of one
of them, and making the sign of the cross, said “ Thus
aied St. Agnes.” The Constable of Cyprus knelt
beside me, and confessed himself to me, and I gave
him such absolution as Gcd was pleased to grant me
IN THE HOLD. 205

the power of bestowing. But of all the things he
had said to me, when I rose up I could not remem-
ber one of them.’

‘We were confined in the hold of the galleys,’
continues the chronicler, ‘and laid heads and heels
together. We thought it had been so ordered be-
cause they were afraid of attacking us in a body, and
that they would destroy us one at a time. This
danger lasted the whole night. I had my feet right
on the face of the Count of Brittany, whose feet, in
return, were beside my face. On the morrow we
were taken out of the hold, and the emirs sent to
inform us that we might renew the treaties we had
made with the sultan.’

‘So far, all seemed well. But the danger was not
yet over, as the Crusaders were destined to feel. At
first the form of the oaths to be taken by the king
and the emirs presented much difficulty; and, even
when it was settled, the emirs in council gravely dis-
cussed the propriety of putting the French king and
his barons to death. Only one of them pleaded for
keeping faith ; and his voice would have been drowned
in the clamour, but fortunately he used an argu-
ment which appealed irresistibly to their cupidity.’

‘You may put these Franks to death if you will,’
said he; * but reflect ere doing so that dead men pay
no ransom.’

Nevertheless, it really seemed that after all the
Crusaders were doomed; and while they were on
board the galleys, and this discussion was proceeding,
an incident occurred which caused them to give
themselves up for lost.
206 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

‘One of the emirs that were against us,’ says
Joinville, ‘threatening we were to be slain, came to
the bank of the river, and shouted out in Saracen to
those who were on board our galley, and, taking off
his turban, made signs, and told them they were to
carry us back to Babylon. The anchors were instantly
raised, and we were carried a good league up the
river. This caused great grief to all of us, and
many tears fell from our eyes, for we now expected
nothing but death.’

And what in the meantime was taking place in
Damietta ?

Nothing in truth could have exceeded the anxiety
which prevailed within the walls of that city, when
thither were carried tidings of the assassination of the
Sultan of Egypt, and of the new danger to which the
King of France and the captive Crusaders were
exposed. |

The aspect of affairs was indeed menacing ; and it
was not till messengers from King Louis came to
announce that the treaty was to be maintained and
the city evacuated, that something like confidence
was restored. On the evening of Friday, Queen
Margaret, with the Countesses of Anjou, Poictiers,
and Artois, and the other ladies, went on board a
Genoese vessel. As night advanced, Oliver de
Thermes and all the Crusaders who had garrisoned
Damietta embarked on the Nile, and Geoffery de
Segrines, having brought the keys to the emirs, the
Saracens took possession. Next morning at day-
break the Moslem standards were floating over tower
and turret. But still King Louis was in the hands
EVACUATION OF DAMIETTA. 207

of his enemies, and still the emirs were debating
whether or not they ought to put him and the
companions of his captivity to death.

At the mouth of the Nile, a Genoese galley
awaited the king; and, while every eye was strained
towards the shore with an anxiety which was not
without cause, Walter Espec and Bisset, the English
knight, stood on deck in no enviable frame of mind.

‘I mislike all this delay,’ said Walter, more
agitated than he was wont toappear. ‘ What if, after
all, these emirs should prove false to their covenant?’

‘In truth,’ replied Bisset, ‘it would not amaze me
so much as many things that have come to pass of
Jate; and both the king and his nobles may yet find
to their cost that their hopes of freedom are dashed ;
for we all know the truth of the proverb as to there
being so much between the cup and the lip.’

At this moment they observed the galleys, on
board of which Joinville and other captive Crusaders
were, move up the Nile, and each uttered an ex-
clamation of horror.

‘Now may Holy Katherine be our aid,’ cried
Walter, ‘for our worst anticipations are like to be
realised.’

‘The saints forbid,’ replied Bisset; ‘and yet I am
not so hopeful as I might be, for I have long since
learned not to holloa till out of the wood.’

It was indeed a critical moment for Louis and his
nobles; but in the council of the emirs the milder
views ultimately prevailed, and Bisset and Walter
Espec observed with delight that the galleys which
had moved up the Nile were brought back towards
208 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

Damietta, and that Louis, attended by a multitude
of Saracens who watched his movements in silence,
was approaching. Immediately the Genoese galley
moved towards the shore, and Louis, having been
joined by the Count of Anjou and the Lord of
Joinville, stepped on board, while the other knights
and nobles hastened to embark in the vessels that
lay in wait for them. As soon as the king was on
board, Bisset made a signal; and, as he did so, eighty
archers with their crossbows strung appeared on
deck so suddenly that the crowd of Saracens who
had been pressing forward immediately dispersed in
alarm, and the galley moved from the shore. Ere long,
the Count of Poictiers, who had remained as a
hostage in Damietta till the ransom of the Crusaders
was paid, came on board; and, all being now in readi-
ness for leaving the place where he had experienced
so many misfortunes and so much misery, the saint-
king made a sign to the mariners, the sails were
given to the wind, and the fleet of the armed pilgrims
-——the wreck of a brilliant army—glided away towards
Syria. But thousands of the survivors still remained
in captivity, and, albeit Louis was conscientiously
bent on ransoming them, their prospect was gloomy,
and the thought of their unhappy plight clouded the
saint-kine’s brow.

And sad was the heart of Walter Espec, as he
recalled the day when he landed at Damietta side
by side with Guy Muschamp; and for the hundredth
time asked himself mournfully whether his brother-
in-arms had died for his faith, or whether a worse
fate had befallen him.
THE CRUSADERS QUIT EGYPT. 299

But why linger on the Egyptian shore amid scenes
suggestive of reminiscences so melancholy and _ so
dismal—reminiscences of misfortunes and calamities
and losses not to be repaired? Let us on to the
Syrian coast, and gladden our eyes with a sight of
the white walls of Acre, washed bv the blue waters
of the Mediterranean.

 
219

CHAPTER XXXITT.
ACRE.

A T the time when King Louis, sad but unsubdued,
A left Damietta and steered for the Syrian coast,
Acre, situated on a promontory at the foot of Mount
Carmel and washed by the blue waters of the Medi-
terranean, was a place of great strength, and re-
nowned throughout Christendom for riches and
splendour. For a long period previous to its destruc-
tion by the Mameluke Sultan—indeed, from the time
of the seizure of Jerusalem by Saladin the Great—
Acre was regarded as of higher importance than any
city in the Christian kingdom of which Jerusalem
had been the metropolis; and thither, when driven
from other towns which they had called their own
in the days of Godfrey and the Baldwins, most of
the Christians carried such wealth as they could
save from the grasp of sultans and emirs. Acre
had, in fact, come to be regarded as the capital of
the Kingdom of Jerusalem, and by far the finest of
the cities in Syria.

Naturally enough, a capital so wealthy was cathe
tempting to men bent on conquest. But Acre had
the advantage of being strongly fortified. On the
THE SPLENDOUR OF ACRE. 211

land side it was surrounded by a double wall, with
towers and battlements, and a broad and deep ditch,
which prevented access to its ramparts, and towards
the sea by a fortress at the entrance of the harbour,
by the castle of the Templars, and by a stronghold
known as ‘The King’s Tower ;’ and on the whole,
the fortifications were such that no foe, not even such
as Bibars Bendocdar, could have calculated on find-
ing the place an easy prey.

Nor could the aspect of the city seem otherwise
than strange and picturesque to such of the armed
pilgrims as landed with the saint-king beneath its
white walls, washed by the blue waters of the Medi-
terranean. The interior was chiefly occupied by the
houses of traders and artisans; but, between the two
ramparts that defended the city on the east, stood the
castles and palaces of the King of Cyprus, the
Prince of Antioch, the representatives of France and
Germany, and other men of high rank. The houses
were built of square stones, all rising to an equal
height; and most of them were surrounded with a
terrace; and inside they were luxurious and resplen-
dent, and lighted with windows of painted glass,
which modified the glare of the oriental sun. Even
the greatest kings in Europe could boast of nothing
to compare with the pictures and marbles and rich
furniture which the mansions of the magnates of
Acre presented to the eyes of the weary and despond-
ing Crusaders.

And Acre was not without busy life and striking
ceremonies to give variety to the scene. The port
was crowded with ships from Europe and Asia; the
212 THE BOY CRUSADERS,

warehouses were stored with merchandise; the
market-place was lively with bustle and excitement:

a

=

monks, sailors, pirates, pilorims, merchants, and war-
riors appeared in the streets; the squares and public
places were screened from the heat by silken cover-
ines; and there on certain days the magnates of the
city, wearing golden crowns and vestments glittering
with precious stones, walked to show themselves to
the people, attended by splendid trains composed of
men varying in language and mauners, but unfor-
tunately separated by jealousies and rivalries that
frequently led to riot and bloodshed.

Around Acre, the country was fertile and fair to the
eye of the gazer. Outside the walls were beautiful
gardens where the citizens were wont to repair for
recreation; and farther away groves and pleasure
houses, and scattered villages and orchards, gave
variety to the landscape. ,

Such was Acre when King Louis landed there with
his queen and the remains of his once brilliant army;
and when Walter Espec, penniless and pensive, but
still hoping to hear tidings of his lost brother, leapt
ashore with Bisset the English knight, and returned
thanks to heaven for having escaped from the power
of the Saracens and the perils of the sea.

‘Sir knight,’ said Walter, who was in a despond-
ing mood, ‘we have now, thanks be to God reached a
place of safety; and yet, beshrew me if my heart
does not fail me; for we are in a strange land, without
money, without horses, almost without raiment
befitting our rank,’ | |

‘In truth,’ replied the knight, ‘I own that our
HOPE. 213

plight is not enviable. But it is not desperate. Still
Jam in the service of King Louis, and have claims
which he cannot disregard ; and, credit me, a king’s
name is a tower of strength. As for you, for lack of
a more potent protector, attach yourself to me as
squire, and we can struggle together against adverse
fortune. So droop not, but take courage, my brave
Englishman ; and we will, with the aid of God and our
lady, so contrive to make the best of our circum-
stances as to turn matters to our advantage.’
214

CHAPTER XXXIV.
A RESCUE.

ALTER Espec, albeit since leaving England he
had enacted the part of squire to two of the
foremost earls in Christendom, was too much in need
of a protector not to accept Bisset’s offer with grati-
tude; and the English knight exercised his influence
with such effect that both of them were soon provided
with horses and raiment befitting their rank, and made
a creditable figure among the Crusaders who thronged
Acre. Indeed Walter, having now quite recovered
from his illness, attracted much notice, and won the
reputation of being one of the handsomest English-
men who had ever appeared in the Syrian city.
Nevertheless, Walter was gloomy and despondent.
All his enquiries after Osbert, his lost brother,
resulted in disappointment. Guy Muschamp he
regarded as one to be numbered with the dead; and
Adeline de Brienne, who since their unexpected
meeting at Damietta, where in days of dismay and
danger they had conversed on equal terms, was now,
as the grand-daughter of a King of Jerusalem, treated
as a princess, and moved in too high a sphere to be
approached by a simple squire. At first he was
VISIONS AND DREAMS 215

astonished to find that they were separated by so wide
a gulf, and the Espec pride made him almost dis-
dainful. Still, the fair demoiselle was present in all
his visions by day and his dreams by night; and
while consoling himself with building castles in the
air when he was to reside in baronial state with her
as his ‘lady and companion,’ he was under the
necessity of contenting himself in the meantime with
worshipping at a distance, as an Indian pays homage
to his star. Ere long, however, fortune, which had
ever been friendly to Walter, gave him an opportunity
of acquiring a new claim on Adeline’s gratitude.

It was about St. John the Baptist’s day, in the
year 1251, and the King of France, having under-
taken an expedition against the Saracens, was at
Joppa, while the queen and the ladies of the Crusade
remained at Acre, which was garrisoned by a large
body of infantry under the command of the Constable
of Jerusalem, and a small party of cavalry under
Bisset, whose courage and prowess still, in spite of
his recklessness, made him a favourite with the royal
saint. No danger, however, appeared to threaten the
city. The citizens were occupying themselves as usual 5
and some of the ladies had gone to walk in the
gardens outside the gate, when suddenly a body of
Saracens, who had marched from Joppa, presented
themselves before the walis, and sent to inform the
constable that if he did not give them fifty thousand
bezants by way of tribute, they would destroy the
gardens. The threat was alarming, but the constable
replied that he would give them nothing; and having
sent a young knight of Genoa to order them off, he
216 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

left the city and marched to the mount, where was
the churchyard of St. Nicholas, to defend the gardens;
while bowmen posted between them and the town
kept up a brisk discharge of arrows, and Bisset at
the head of a band of horsemen, attended by Walter
Espec, charged forward and skirmished with the
Saracens so as to retard their approach. Neverthe-
less, the Saracens continued to advance, and the
Christian magnates who had been walking in the
squares came to the battlements, and with anxiety on
their faces watched the feats of arms that were per-
formed, and especially those wrought by the young
knight of Genoa. |

Meanwhile Bisset and Walter Espec,while skirmish-
ing with the Saracens, skirted their lines and madea
circuit of the garden with the object of defending a
gate by which it was feared an entrance might be
effected. And in truth they found they had come
too late to prevent the evil that was apprehended.
Just as they approached their ears were hailed with
loud cries of ‘Help! help!’ and to their horror they
perceived that ten or twelve Saracens, well mounted,
were issuing from the garden, one of whom was
forcibly carrying off a lady without regard to her
screams or her struggles.

‘In the name of wonder!’ gaid Bisset, staring in
amaze, ‘ what is iuis I see?’

‘By Holy Katherine!’ exclaimed Walter wildly,
‘the pagan dogs are carrying off a lady, and she is
no other than Adeline de Brienne. To the rescue,
sir knight! to the rescue!’ |

‘ Hold,’ cried Bisset, ‘or you will ruin all, See
IN PURSUIT. OF

you not that their horses are swifter than ours, and
we must go cunningly to work? Patience, Walter,
patience. We must make a circuit and intercept
them, without their be sing aware that we are in
pursuit.’

Walter’s blood boiled: his head seemed about to
turn; and, in spite of the knight’s admonition, he
could hardly restrain his impetuosity as he saw the
Saracens making off with their prize. Bisset, how-
ever, was calm, but, as usual, resolute; and it was
not till he had posted part of his cavalry at the gate
to prevent further intrusions that, at the head of
half-a-dozen horsemen, he deliberately went in pur-
suit, and in such a direction that the Saracens had
no suspicions that they were pursued. Indeed, they
deemed themselves so secure that they gradually
slackened their pace, and at length halted while two
of their number rode back to ascertain the result of
the combat that was taking place before Acre.

And what was the state of affairs before the
city ?

‘As the Genoese knight was retiring with his body
of infantry,’ says Joinville, ‘a Saracen suddenly
moved by his courage came boldly up to him, and
said in his faracenic tongue that if ke pleased he
would tilt with him. The knight answered with
pride that he would receive him; but, when he was
on the point of beginning his course, he perceived on
his left hand eight or nine Saracens, who had halted
there to see the event of the tournament. The
knight, therefore, instead of directing his course
towards the Saracen who had offered to tilt with
218 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

him, made for this troop, and, striking one of them
with his lance, pierced his body through and killed
him on the spot. He then retreated to our men,
pursued by the other Saracens, one of whom gave
him a heavy blow on his helmet with a -battle-
axe. In return, the knight struck the Saracen go
severely on the head that he made his turban fly off.
Another Saracen thought to give the knight a mortal
blow with his Turkish blade, but he twisted his body
in such wise that it missed him, and the knight, by a
back-hand blow on the Saracen’s arm, made hig
sword fall to the ground, and then made a good
retreat with the infantry. These three famous actions
did the Genoese knight perform in the presence of
the constable, and before all the principal persons of
the town who were assembled on the battlements.’
Nevertheless, the Saracens advanced with ‘ fierce
faces threatening war,’ when suddenly a band of
those military monks who at the cry of battle armed
‘with faith within and steel without,’ and long white
mantles over their chain mail, spurred with lances
erect from the Castle of St. Katherine near the gate
of St. Anthony, and, interposing between the Saracens
and the city, formed a barrier that seemed impene-
trable. They were the knights of the Order of St.
Katherine of Mount Sinai, an Order instituted in
honovr of that saint in 1063, and bearing on their
snowy mantles the instruments by which she suffered
martyrdom—the half wheel armed with spikes and
traversed by a sword stained with blood.
The Saracens halted in surprise at the sight of the
Knights of St. Katherine, who were supposed at the
THE KNIGHTS OF ST. KATHERINE. 219

time to be at the Castle of Kakhow; and, as if to pro-
voke a conflict that they might have the satisfaction
of conquering, one of the warrior monks, who seemed
very young, at a signal from the marshal of the Order
left his companions, and spurring gallantly forward,
with marvellous skill unhorsed two of the Saracens
without breaking his lance. On this, the leader of
the Saracens, perceiving that the knight was alone,
rode forward to meet him; but the youth charged
him so fiercely that he was fain to retreat desperately
wounded, and then returned leisurely to his com-
rades.

After some hesitation the Saracens withdrew, and
the Knights of St. Katherine rode calmly back to
their castle.

And now let us follow Bisset and Walter Espec.

About the distance of a league from Acre is a
place which was then known as Passe-Poulain, where,
shaded by foliage, were many beautiful springs of
water, with which the sugar-canes were irrigated.
It was at Passe-Poulain that the Saracens who
carried off Adeline de Brienne halted to await
the report of their comrades, and, little thinking of
their danger, dismounted to quench their thirst and
rest their steeds; the Saracen who bad charge of
the damsel alone remaining on horseback, and tena-
ciously keeping hold of his prize.

Suddenly all of them started in surprise; for one
of the horses raised his head and neighed; and the
Saracens had scarcely ceased their conversation and
begun to listen, when, with loud shouts of ‘ Holy
cross!’ Bisset and his riders emerged from the foliage
220 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

and dashed in amongst them. Resistance was vain,
but the Saracens turned to bay, and a bloody fray,
in which Bisset’s axe did terrible execution, was the
consequence. Only one attempted to escape,—he
who had before him on his saddle the almost lifeless
form of Adeline de Brienne; and after him Walter
Espec, his sword drawn and his spur in his horse’s
flank, rode with furious shouts.

It was a keen chase, both flyer and pursuer
urging their steeds to the utmost; and under ordinary
circumstances the Saracen would have escaped; but,
hampered with his burden, and unable to exert hig
equestrian skill, he soon found that his pursuer was
gaining on him rapidly, and turned to take the chance
of an encounter. Tearful of hurting the damsel, but
perceiving that even this must be hazarded, Walter
met him in full course; and, exercising all his art in
arms to elude a blow fiercely aimed at him, he
dealt one on the Saracen’s turban, which stretched
the eastern warrior lifeless on the ground, and then
leaping from his steed, quick as thought caught the
form of the half-fainting maiden just as she was
falling.

Be of good cheer, noble demoiselle,’ said Walter.
‘You are saved.’

But Adeline de Brienne did not reply. She had
fainted ; and Walter, taking her in his strong arms,
bore her tenderly to one of the springs of water, and
was gradually bringing her back to consciousness
when Bisset and his riders, having routed the other
Saracens, came up in doubt as to the issue of the
chase, Having succeeded in restoring the damsel, they
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“ Be of good cheer, noble Demoiselle,” said Walter, ‘‘ you are saved.” —p. 220.
GOOD FORTUNE. 221

placed her on Walter’s steed, and, the squire leading
her rein, conducted her to Acre.

‘On my faith, sir squire,’ said Bisset with a smile
of peculiar significance, as Walter unbuckled his
armour, ‘I marvel at your good fortune in regard
to the noble demoiselle, and perceive that I was
right in saying that you had been born with luck on
your side. A few more such exploits, and you will be
known to fame.’

‘ At all events, sir knight,’ replied Walter, trying
not to appear too much elated, ‘ we can lay ourselves
down to rest to night with all the better conscience
that we have this day performed an action worthy
of minstrels’ praise.

‘ Marry,’ exclaimed Bisset seriously, ‘I look to de-
riving from this adventure some benefit more substan-
tial than a sound sleep or minstrels’ flattery ; and, to
speak truth, I am somewhat weary of this saint-king
and this purposeless Crusade, and would fain go to
aid the Emperor of Constantinople against the Greeks
and the Turks; and Baldwin de Courtenay could not
but accord a favourable reception to warriors who
had saved his kinswoman from the Saracens. What
thinkest thou of a movement. to Constantinorle ?’

Walter mused, but did not answer.
222

CHAPTER XXXV.
MISSION TO BAGDAD.

FTER the assassination of Touran Chah at
Pharescour, the Mamelukes were very much at
a loss on whom to bestow the crown so long worn by
the chiefs of this family of Saladin. - In their per-
plexity they elevated Chegger Edour to the throne,
and proclaimed her ‘Queen of the Mussulmen.’
But the affairs of the sultana did not go smoothly.
Moslems were aroused at the elevation of a woman
to sovereignty; and the Caliph of Bagdad, when
asked to send the rich robe which the caliphs were
in the habit of sending by way of investiture to the
Sultans of Egypt, demanded with indignation if a
man capable of reigning could no ionger be found.
Kvery day tlie confusion increased and the trouhles
multiplied.

In order to make matters more pleasant, the
sultana associated a Mameluke named Turcoman
with her in the government, and even condescended
so far as to unite herself with him in marriage.
But the aspect of affairs became gradually more
alarming, and Chegger Edour, yielding to the
prevailing discontent, abdicated in favour of her
VENGEANCE. 223

husband. Turcoman, however, found that his crown
was somewhat thorny; and at a critical period he
aroused the jealousy of his wife by aspiring to wed
an oriental princess.

The sultana vowed vengeance, and hastened to
execute it by causing Turcoman to be assassinated in
his bath. One night an emir, hastily summoned to
the palace, found Chegeer Edour seated on a couch
with her feet resting on the dead body of her
husband. The emir uttered an exclamation of horror ;
but she calmly stated that she had sent for him to
offer her hand and her crown. The emir fled in
terror, and next day the mother of the murdered
man had the sultana put to death by her slaves, and
caused her corpse to be thrown into a ditch.

A Mameluke named Koutouz was now elevated to
the throne, and signalised himself by a victory over
the Moguls or Tartars, hordes of wandering warriors
who were now making themselves terrible both to
Kurope and Asia. Unfortunately for Koutouz, how-
ever, he at that time renewed a truce with the
Christians of Syria, and raised the anger of his
soldiers to such a height that his death was decreed.
Accordingly, one day, when he had ridden out from
Sallhie to hunt, a Mameluke chief suddenly spurred
into the camp, his garments stained with blood.

‘I have slain the sultan,’ said he.

‘Well, then, reign in his stead,’ replied the by-
standers.

The Mameluke chief was Bibars Bendocdar; and,
having been proclaimed as successor to the man he
bad murdered, he ascended the throne, and, as sultan
22 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

of Egypt and Syria, began to govern with despotic
power.

Meanwhile, Louis was anxious to redeem from
captivity the Crusaders who had been left in Egypt,

and sent ambassadors to Cairo with the money that ~

had been agreed on as their ransom. But the am-
bassadors could hardly get a hearing. At length
they did obtain the release of four hundred of the
Christian prisoners, most of whom had paid their own
ransom; but when they pressed for the liberation of
the others, they were plainly told that the King of
France might deem himself fortunate that he had
regained his own liberty; and that if he gave more
trouble, he might expect the Mamelukes to besiege
him at Acre. On hearing this Louis was much per-
plexed, and consulted his nobles, especially the Lord
of Joinville. |
‘Sire,’ said Joinville, after some consideration, ‘ this
iS a serious question, and one not to be hastily dis-
posed of; for I remember that when I was on the
eve of leaving home, my cousin, the Seigneur de
Bollaincourt, said to me, “Now you are going be-
yond the seas, but take care how you return; no
knight, either rich or poor, can come back without
pani: it he leaves behind him, in the hands of the
Saracens, any of the common people who leave home
in his company.” Now,’ added the geneschal, «these
unhappy captives were in the service of the king, as
well as the service of God, and never can they escape
irom captivity if the king should abandon them.’
On hearing this Tepes was more perplexed than
ever. iy ee anxiety, however, he bethought him of
KIVAL CALIPHS. 225

the caliph, and resolved, great as was the distance,
to send ambassadors to Bagdad, where reigned Mus-
teazem the Miser, the thirty-seventh of his dynasty.
Now, albeit Moslems were in the habit of paying
great reverence to the caliph as the successor of
Mahomet, he exercised very little substantial power
over the fierce warriors who fought for Islamism.
Nor, indeed, had the history of the caliphate been
such as to add to the sacredness of the office, or to
increase the superstitious veneration with which it
was regarded. For several centuries, the East wit-
nessed the spectacle of rival caliphs, both professing
to be the representatives of the prophet, and each
claiming all the privileges attaching to the character.
The rivals were known as the Fatimites and the
Abassides. The Fatimites claimed the caliphate as
being the heirs of Ali, Mahomet’s son-in-law, and
established their throne at Cairo. The Abassides,
who were Mahomet’s male heirs, maintained their
state at Bagdad. At length, in 1170, the struggle.
for supremacy was terminated by Saladin the Great,
who killed the Caliph of Cairo with his mace, and
rendered the Caliph of Bagdad undisputed chief of
all Moslems; and, from that time, the Abassides,
though sunk in effeminacy, and much given to
sensual indulgences, continued to exercise their vague
privileges and their shadowy authority.
Nevertheless, King Louis, bent on obtaining the
relief of the captive Crusaders, despatched ambassa-
dors to Bagdad to treat with the caliph. The
ambassadors were a Templar, and Bisset the English
knight; and with them, in their train, went Walter
226 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

Espec, now, at length, hopeful of ascertaining some-
thing about his brother’s fate. |

It was not without encountering considerable dan-
ger, and having to endure much fatigue, that the
Templar and the English knight, under the guidance
of Beltran the renegade, who had opportunely ap-
peared at Acre, and whom Bisset had pressed into
‘he service, traversed the country; and, after many
days’ travel, drew nigh to the capital of the caliphate,
which had been built, in the eighth century, by Al
Mansour, one of the Abasside caliphs, out of the
ruins of Ctesiphon, and afterwards enlarged and
adorned by Haroun Alraschid, the great — of his
dynasty.

But the journey had not been without its novelty
and excitement; and Walter Espec was riding by the
side of Beltran the renegade, towards whom, in spite
of his prejudices as a Crusader, he felt the gratitude ’
due to a man who had saved his life, when he was
cut down at Mansourah. At present he was much
interested with the account given by the renegade of
the ostriches or camel- birds, and eager to learn how
they were hunted.

‘And so, good Beltran,’ said he, ‘ you have actually
hunted this bird, whose height is gigantic, whose cry
at a distance resembles the lion’s, and which is to be
found in parched and desolate tracts, deserted even
by antelopes and beasts of prey.’

‘In truth have I,’ replied Beltran.

‘I envy you,’ said Walter; ‘nothing would please
me more than such an enterprise.’ :

‘ Nevertheless,’ rejoined the renegade, ‘it is some-
HUNTING THE OSTRICH. 227

- what irksome, and requires much patience. But the
Arabs have a proverb, that patience is the price that
must be paid for all success, and act accordingly.
They have horses trained for the purpose; and, when
they first start the ostrich, they go off at an easy
gallop, so as to keep the bird in view, without going
so near as to alarm it. On discovering that it is pur-
sued, the ostrich begins to move away, gently at first,
but gradually increasing its speed, running with
wings extended, as if flying, and keeps doubling. It
generally takes two days to run one down; but the
hunter gets the best of the race at last; and, when
the ostrich finds itself exhausted and beaten, it
buries its head in the sand; and the hunters, coming
up, kill it with their clubs, taking care not to spoil
the feathers.’

‘On my faith,’ said Walter, ‘I do own that such a
pursuit would be irksome; and I hardly think that
my patience would brook so much delay.’

‘However,’ said Beltran, suddenly raising his hand
and pointing forward, ‘there lies before you the city
of the caliph.’

Bagdad, as the reader may be aware, is situated
on the Tigris, at the distance of two hundred miles
above the junction of that river with the Euphrates,
and the Tigris is here about six hundred feet in
breadth. The city, which is of an oblong shape, and
of which the streets are so narrow that not more than
two horsemen can ride abreast, is surrounded with a
high wall, flanked with towers, some of an immense
size, built by the early caliphs; and several old build-
ings remain to attest its ancient magnificence —
228 THE BOY CRUSADERS. -

such as the Gate of the Talisman, a lofty minaret,
built in 785; the tomb of Zobeida, the most beloved
of the wives of Haroun Alraschid; and the famous
Madressa College, founded in 1233 by the. Caliph
Mustenatser. | ;

No traces, however, are left of the palace so long
inhabited by the caliphs; nor does anything mark
the place where, though its glory was about to
depart, it still stood in all its pride, with the black
banner of the Abassides floating over its portals,
when the ambassadors of St. Louis reached Bagdad,
and craved an audience of the heir of the prophet.
It was a sight to impress even men accustomed to
the wealth and splendour of Acre; and they thanked
God for having conducted them in safety to a place
where there was a prospect of food and rest.

But Walter Espec was not thinking of such things; —
his whole mind was occupied with the question,
whether or not his lost brother was a captive within
these walls.
229

CHAPTER XXXVI.
THE LAST OF THE CALIPIS,

STONISHED as the Caliph Musteazem might

be at the audacity which prompted a Frankish

king to send ambassadors to the heir of the prophet,
he did not venture to decline receiving the message
of a prince who so recently had threatened the
empire of Egypt with destruction, and might have
the power of doing so again. Besides, Musteazem
was not in the most celestial humour with the
Mamelukes, who seemed inclined to defy his and
every other person’s authority; and, on hearing that
the result of all the disorders and revolutions had
been the elevation of Bibars Bendocdar to the throne
of Saladin, he remarked, in homely oriental phrase,
‘when the pot boils, the scum rises to the top.’
Above all, Musteazem was a miser, and covetous to
the last degree; and when it was explained to him by
his grand vizier, whom the Templar had already
bribed with a purse of gold, that the King of France
was liberal in money matters, and was ready to pay
handsomely for the ransom of his captive country-
men, the caliph’s ruling passion prevailed—his
avarice got the better of his dignity; ana, without

P
230 THE BOY GRUSADERS.

farther words, he consented to grant an audience to
the Franks.

Meanwhile, the ambassadors and their attendants
were admitted within the gates of the palace, and
conducted into an immense garden, there to wait
till suitable apaitinents were assigned them. And
this garden made them stare with wonder; its regal
magnificence was so surprising as to make them start
and stop simultaneously, and to make Bisset ex-
claim—

‘Of a truth, the lines of this pope of the infidels
have fallen in pleasant places. None of King Henry’s
palaces can boast of anything like this. Surely it
must be the terrestrial paradise.’

Now, this garden might well surprise the ambas-
sadors. In the centre was a kiosk of the richest
architecture, constructed entirely of marble and ala-
baster, with an arcade composed of countless marble
pilars. In the court was a marble reservoir,
surrounded with marble balustrades, which at cach
angle opened on a flight of stairs, guarded by lions
and crocodiles sculptured of white marble; and
alabaster baths with taps of gold. On one side of
the garden was a large aviary; on the other a huge
elephant, chained to a tree. The walks were set in
mosaic of coioured pebbles, in all kinds of fanciful
patterns; and around were groves, bowers, arbours,
and trellis-covered paths, with streams, fountains,
hedges of box and myrtle, flowers, cypresses, odori-
ferous plants, and trees groaning under the weight of
icmons, oranges, citrons, and fruit in great variety.
Jt was more like such a scene as magicians are sup-
TIE CALIPH, MAMELUKES, AND MOGULS. 231

posed to conjure up, than reality ; and the Crusaders
gazed for a while with silent admiration.

‘On my faith,’ said Bisset, at lenoth breaking the
silence, ‘this is marvellous to behold; and _ yet,
had I the ear of the pope of the infidels, I should
recommend an addition which would be to the
purpose. J mean such a statue of the goddess
Minerva as once stood in the great square of Con-
stantinople.’

‘ And wherefore?’

‘Because Minerva is the goddess who presides
over prudence and valour; and my eyes have de-
ceived me if, in this city, there is not a lack of both.
Marked you not, as we rode along, that the place
is well nigh without defences and fighting men;
and think you that, with such spoil in prospect, the
Mamelukes, not to mention the Moguls, would
hesitate about seizing it?’

‘You err,’ replied the Templar: ‘the caliph, as you
say, is the pope of the infidels, and the Mamelukes
hold everything he possesses as sacred.’

‘So did they last century,’ remarked Bisset, ele-
vating his shoulders ; ‘and yet Saladin killed a
caliph with his mace; and as for the Moguls, you
know they are almost Christians, and Father Rubru-
quis is now in Tartary, completing their conversion.
Beshrew me, sir Templar, if I deem not this caliph
foolhardy to run the risk of being attacked, without
fighting men to defend him.’

As the English knight spoke, an officer of the
caliph appeared to conduct the ambassadors to their
lodgings; and they, having refreshed themselves with
232 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

the bath, and with food, were invited by the grand
vizier to repair to the presence of the caliph.

It was not, however, without much ceremony, and
some mystery, that the Templar and the English
knight were admitted into the interior of a palace
within whose precincts no Christian, save as a cap-
tive, had ever before set foot. First, they were
euided through dark passages, guarded by armed
Ethiopians, and then into open courts so richly and
beautifully adorned, that they could not refrain from
expressing their admiration.

‘Certes,’ exclaimed Bisset, halting, ‘the caliph
must, of all princes, be the richest; and I should
not much marvel to hear that he had discovered the
philosopher’s stone, which turns everything into gold,
and of which my countryman, Roger Bacon, is said
to be in search. Nevertheless, he does not seem to
have studied the Roman poet, who tells us that
treasure is hardly worth having, unless it is properly
used.’

‘In truth, sir knight,’ said the Templar, ‘the
farther we go, the greater is the splendour and state.’

At length the ambassadors reached a magnificent
chamber, where the caliph awaited them. At first,
however, he was concealed from them by a curtain
wrought with pearls. But the grand vizier thrice
prostrated himself to the ground; and, as he did so,
the traverse was drawn aside, and the caliph appeared
arrayed in gorgeous robes, seated on a throne of
gold, and surrounded by his eunuchs, who seemed
both surprised and grieved to see Christians in that
place and presence.
DIGNITY UNDER A GLOVE. 233

And now the grand vizier kissed the caliph’s hand,
and, presenting the ambassadors, explained their
errand. A long conversation, which was carried on
chiefly by the Templar and the grand vizier, followed;
and the caliph having expressed his willingness to
treat, the grand vizier desired him, in token of his
good faith, to give the ambassadors his hand. Mus-
teazem, however, shook his head, to indicate that he
was not prepared to derogate so far from his dignity.
At length, after some persuasion, he consented to
give them his hand, gloved.

‘That will do,’ said the grand vizier.

‘I fear not,’ replied the Templar, hesitating,

‘Sir,’ said Bisset, addressing the caliph—for by
this time the English knight had recovered all his
reckless audacity, and felt quite as much at home as
if he had been in the palace of Westminster, and
speaking to the good King Henry—‘ truth makes no
holes to hide herself in; and princes, if they will
covenant, must deal fairly and openly. Give us,
therefore, your hand, if you mean to treat; we will
make no bargains with your glove.’

But the caliph, still unsatisfied, stood upon his
dignity, and refused to be persuaded. However, at
the instance of the grand vizier, he consented to
consider the subject, and promise the ambassadors
another audience on the morrow. But who can tell
what a day may bring forth? Ere the morrow, an
event occurred which raised more important ques-
tions than whether he could, without degradation,
give his ungloved hand to a Templar and an English
knight.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
A RECOGNITION.

YJHEN the Templar and the English knight left
the lodgings that had been assigned to them
in the palace of Bagdad to enter the presence of the
caliph, and were honoured with the audience de-
scribed, Walter Espec, excited by the novelty of his
situation, thinking of his lost brother, and bearing in
mind that he had a mission to accomplish, strolled,
heedless of rules or regulations, into the garden of
the palace, and took his way along one of the walks,
set in mosaic-coloured pebbles, towards the kiosk.
He had not proceeded far, however, when he per-
ceived, coming from the opposite direction, six youths,
apparently about his own age. All were so fettered
as to be impeded in their walking, and seemed to be
under the charge of an aged Saracen, who, in his
turban and flowing robes, looked a most venerable
personage.
‘Christian captives, as I live,’ muttered Walter,
compassionately.
Of the six youths, five paced moodily along, with
their eyes bent sadly on the ground; the sixth
neither seemed sad, nor had his eyes bent on the
THE BOY CRUSADERS AGAIN MERT. 235

ground, but held his head aloft with the air of one
whom circumstances could not depress; and Walter
felt his heart beat and his brain whirl, and stopped
suddenly, with an exclamation of surprise, as in this
youth he recognised an old acquaintance.

Immediately it appeared that the recognition was
mutual. Indeed, the captive no sooner observed
Walter than, disregarding the remonstrances of the
old Saracen, and forgetful for the moment of hig
chains, he broke away from his companions, and
hobbling, not without danger of a fall, fairly flung
himself into the Boy Crusader’s arms.

‘Oh, good Walter,’ exclaimed he, ‘ what a surprise!
The idea of your being here, and at a time when
they are-threatening to put me to death because
I will not embrace the filthy religion of their false
prophet. _ But, thanks to our lady the Virgin, I now
feel that I am saved.’

‘In truth, brave Guy,’ replied Walter, much af-
fected, ‘you are saved, if my efforts can save you.
I have mourned for you as for one dead; and I swear
by holy Katherine, who hath preserved me miracu-
lously through manifold dangers, that if I fail I
remain to share your fate, for weal or for woe. But
how came you hither ?’

‘By St. John of Beverley,’ answered Guy, ‘ not
with my own goodwill, as you may swear on the
Evangelists. [was dragged out of the galley of the
Lord of Joinville, and, with my hands chained be-
hind my back, I was, in that base, unworthy plight,
led captive to Cairo; and, when the Mamelukes
killed their sultan, and the sultana, that dark-eyed
236 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

woman, who outdoes Jezebel in wickedness, wished
to propitiate the caliph, she sent me and five other
Christian prisoners whom you see as a peace-offer-
ing. And so,’ added Guy, looking down at his fetters,
‘here you see me, an Anglo-Norman gentleman, of
great name, in captivity and chains, and threatened
with a cruel death; which, however, I would fain
escape; for, tempting as may be the prospect of the
crown of martyrdom, beshrew me, good Walter, if at
my age I deem not life too sweet to part with
willingly.’

And in spite of his fetters and his perilous plight,
Guy looked as blithe and gay as he was wont to do
in the tilt-yard of the castle of Wark.

‘By the Holy Cross,’ said Walter, gravely, ‘I can-
not pretend to make light of the business; and yet I
am not without hope; for a Templar, and Bisset, the
stout knight whom I now serve, have come from the
good King Louis as ambassadors to the caliph, and
they will not fail you. But credit this, at least, that
if the worst comes to the worst I will remain in this
place, and not leave it—save in your company—
tide what may.’

Guy was about to protest against Walter sacrific-
ing himself to friendship; but further conversation
was prevented by the approach of the aged Saracen ;
and Guy, however reluctant, was fain to rejoin the
companions of his captivity. Walter, however, fol-
lowed their steps, and watched their movements, till
they disappeared in a door contiguous to that part
of the palace in which the ambassadors were lodged
with their train. But, warned by Beltran, the rene-
GOLD AND CONQUEST, ae

-gade, that it would be prudent to confine himself to
the quarters assigned, he returned to his lodgings,
and there, musing over this unexpected meeting with
his brother-in-arms, awaited Bisset’s return,

At length the English knight appeared. But he
did not seem quite himself. The frank and joyous
expression which characterised him had deserted
his countenance, and he looked a changed man.
Haughty sternness sat on his brow; his eye-brows
were elevated; his eye glanced flame; his nostrils
breathed fire; and he clenched and opened his hand
excitedly, as if contemplating some ruthless deed, as
he strode into the apartment and seized Walter’s arm.

‘Sir knight,’ said Walter, amazed, and almost
terrified, ‘ what aileth thee?’

‘By the might of Mary!’ exclaimed the knight
hurriedly and sternly, ‘I have seen a sight that has
roused all the Norman within me, and made me
thirst for gold and pant for conquest.’

‘And what of the caliph?’ asked Walter.

‘Tush,’ answered the knight, contemptuously. ‘This
caliph is nobody, save as master of this palace and
city, and the treasure they contain. By my fathez’s
soul! the caitiff wretch is rolling in wealth. May the
saints grant me patience to think of it calmly! The
very throne of gold on which he sits would, if coined
into money, furnish forth an army, capable, under a
skilful and daring leader, of conquering kingdoms.
Oh, for five hundred brave men in mail, and the
cross on their shoulders! By the bones of Becket, I
should, ere morning, be lord of all;’ and, torturing
himself with the idea of such a prize escaping his
238 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

grasp, Bisset sunk into silence, and indulged in
reflection.

‘Sir knight,’ said Walter, after a long pause, ‘ I
have made a strange discovery. Guy Muschamp, the
English squire, my brother-in-arms, is a captive in
this palace, and in danger of death, because he will
not abandon his faith as a Christian. I have seen
him; I have spoken with him; I implore you to ob-
tain his release; for,’ added Walter, with tears in his
eyes, ‘I must tell you frankly, that otherwise I
must remain to share his fate.’

‘Fear not, boy,’ said Bisset, touched with the
squire’s emotion ; ‘I will see to his being ransomed.
In truth, I hardly think there will be much diffi-
culty; for this caliph is a miser—a mean, detestable
miser—and would sell anything for bezants—even
his soul, if he had not already pawned it to Satan,
through his brokers Mahound and Termagaunt.’
And, too much occupied with his dream of seizing
Bagdad, and carving out a kingdom with his sword,
the knight relapsed into silence, and scarcely moved
till evening fell.

It was just after sunset, and Bisset was rapt in
thought, and Walter Espec perplexing his soul about
Guy Muschamp, when suddenly they were aroused
by the voice of the Muezzin, who, according to the
custom of the Saracens, standing on the minaret of a
mosque hard by, solemnly proclaimed three times—
‘There is but one God, and Mahomet is his pro-
phet.’

Walter sprang up, quivering with pious horror,
and hastily crossed himself.

 
BROKEN S!.UMBERS, 239

‘Sir knight,’ said he, earnestly, «I feel that this
place is unholy.’

‘Mayhap, boy,’ replied the knight. «But patter
your prayers, and no evil will come nigh you. For
the rest, Bagdad would be holy enough were the
walls and towers manned by Christian warriors, and
the mosques converted into churches, and I king,
with the caliph’s treasures to go forth against the
Moslem, conquering and to conquer. Oh, credit me,
it is a glorious vision. But it cannot be realised.
Marry, I spoke too truly when I said that I was
born without luck on my side.’

Night fell; the moon rose; and the Crusaders,
after for a time looking out upon innumerable stars,
glorious in the blue depths of an Asian sky, saw
to the comfort and security of their attendants, and
then stretched themselves to rest— Walter laying
himself down at the door of the chamber which Bis-
set occupied. In spite of the knight’s agitation and
the squire’s anxiety, both soon sank into sleep. But
their repose was destined to be broken. About day-
break they were awakened by cries and tumult, that
filled the palace of the caliph. Gradually, the noise
increased, and was blended with strange cries, as of
warriors storming the city. Bisset and Walter lis-
tened with breathless attention, as yell after yell,
and whoop after whoop, intimated that some terrible
catastrophe had occurred ; and as they hearkened, the
Templar, who had occupied an adjoining apartment,
rushed in, calm, but pale as a ghost.

‘Gentlemen,’ said he, * we are dead men.”
240

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

WOE TO THE CALIPH.

HAVE mentioned that, in the middle of the
thirteenth century, the Moguls, or Tartars, were
the terror of Asia and Europe. In considering their
energy and cruelty as warriors, is it wonderful that
their movements should have been regarded with
lively alarm? From the Yellow River to the banks
of the Danube they had marched, conquering and
slaughtering ; marking their way with devastation,
and making the two continents resound with the
tumult of war and the crash of empires.

Originally a number of hordes, inhabiting the
waste regions that lie between ancient Emaiis, Si-
beria, and China, and the sea of Kamschatka, the
Tartars formed several nations of hunters and_ shep-
herds, living under tents, with their families sub-
sisting on the produce of the chase and the flesh
of their flocks, and acknowledging one God, the
sovereign of heaven, but reserving their worship for
the genil, who, as they believed, followed their steps,
and watched over the safety of their families. They
moved from place to place, despising agriculture, and
not deigning to build. Even as late as the twelfth
TARTAR WARRIORS. 241

century, they had only one city— Karrakoroum—
situated on the Orgon, in the country subsequently
the residence of the Grand Lama. In short, they
looked upon all the world as their own, and, disliking
all neighbours and rivals, were frequently engaged
in war, which they deemed the sole occupation
worthy of their attention.

As warriors, the Tartars early proved themselves
most formidable. Their valour and discipline were
remarkable; and they had neither baggage nor pro-
visions to encumber their marches. While the skins
of sheep or bears served them for clothing, they made
a little hardened milk, diluted with water, suffice
them for food. On horseback, they were as much at
home as a sea king on the deck of his war-ship, and
their seat was so easy and firm, that they were in
the habit of eating, and even sleeping, without taking
the trouble to dismount. They fought with lance
and bow, reared machines of terrible power; and
all the stratagems of war were familiar to them.
They excelled in the art of fighting while flying;
and, with them, retreat was often the signal for
victory.

It was in the twelfth century that Gheniskhan was
elected by the Tartars as their ruler, and that, under
his leadership, they struck terror into the surround-
ing nations. Under Gheniskhan, the Tartars made
themselves masters of China, and the empire of
Karismia; and, during the reign of his son Octal,
they added Turkistan and India and Persia to their
conquests. Moreover, at that time, they turned their
eyes westward ; and, having crossed the Volga, they
242 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

overran Russia, ravaged Poland, desolated Hun-
gary, devastated the frontiers of Germany, and
caused such dread, that even England was agi-
tated with the danger that threatened all Christen-
dom.

About the year 1245, however, Mango, the grand-
son of Gheniskhan, professed a desire to embrace
Christianity; and Oulagon, the brother of Mango,
espoused a Christian woman; and, when King Louis
was wintering in Cyprus, ambassadors from Tartary
reached the island, with messages to the effect that
the great khan had been baptised, and that he would
readily aid the Crusaders in rescuing Jerusalem from
the Moslems. The saint-king received the ambas-
sadors with joy, entertained them hospitably, con-
ducted them to church, and, when they departed,
sent two monks with magnificent presents to the
great khan, and exhortations to hold fast the pro-
fession of his faith without wavering. Even when
the Tartars menaced Bagdad, an ambassador, des-
patched by King Lovis from Acre, was at the court
of the great khan. with the object of converting the
Tartars; and it appears clear that, however little
they might care for either faith, the Tartars, in the
struggle of Christian and Moslem in the East, were
ever ready to take the side of the Christian against
the Moslem.

Such being the state of affairs, Mango sent his
brother with an army to besiege Bagdad; and
Oulagon, raising his banner, marched towards the
city of the ea Now it happened that Musteazem,
being at once under the influence of the most egTe-
THE MISERLY CALIPH. 243

gious vanity and of the most sordid avarice, neither
believed in his danger, nor had the heart to expend
money to provide the means of defence, but devoted
to the hoarding of the jewels, gold, and treasures
with which his palace abounded, the whole time that
should have been employed in mustering armies and
preparing for war.

However, when the caliph learned that Oulagon
was approaching to attack Bagdad, he partially
awoke from his dream, and sent offers to treat.
Oulagon, who either suspected, or pretended to sus-
pect, a snare, thereupon proposed that a marriage
should take place between the children of the caliph
and the great khan, as the best way of preserving
peace; and Musteazem expressed his entire satisfac-
tion with the proposal.

The Tartar then requested the caliph to send sixty
of his chief men to treat of the marriage; and, when
this was complied with, he demanded sixty more,
that he might have full security for the fulfilment of
the treaty. Not doubting Oulagon’s good faith, Mus-
teazem did as he was asked to do; and the royal
Mogul smiled grimly.

‘Now,’ said Oulagon to his Tartars, ‘seeing that
we have in our hands six score of the caliph’s
chief counsellors and most wealthy subjects, I
cannot doubt that the remainder are very com-
mon sort of people, and not likely to offer much
resistance. My plans have been laid with such
secrecy and caution, that nothing is suspected.
I have only to appear before Bagdad, and take
possession.’ 3
244 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

And no time was wasted. In fact, Oulagon had
no motive for sparing the seat of the caliphate; and
no sooner did he get the six score of Musteazem’s
chief men into his hands, than he ordered them to be
beheaded, and prepared for an attack. Nor, as he
rightly anticipated, was there much danger of an
obstinate resistance. In fact, not only was the city
undefended by any regular force: it was’ divided
against itself. The citizens were formed into various
sects, all at daggers drawn, and much more earnest
in their conflicts with each other than in resolution
to repulse assailants.

It was early morning when the inhabitants of
Bagdad were aroused from their slumbers with loud
shouts of alarm, and cries that the Tartars were upon
them. Resistance was vain; and equally vain was any
hope of mercy. Having set up his machines of war,
Oulagon gave the word of command, and the Tartars
rushed to the assault with all the ferocity of their
nature. Entering the city sword in hand, Oulagon
gave it up to the fury of his soldiers. Carnage, and
all the horrors of war, followed; the gutters ran with
blood; and the caliph who, a few hours earlier, deemed
his person so sacred that he would not even consent
to touch the hand of a Frank, experienced such
rough treatment that he shrunk and shuddered and
sickened.

Oulagon, however, was in no mood to respect the
person of the head of the Moslem religion, No
allegiance did the grim Tartar owe to the heir of
Mahomet. Having seized Musteazem in his palace,
Oulagon, after severely reproaching him with medi-
THE CALIPH IN AN IRON CAGE. 245

tating treachery, caused him to be confined in an iron
cage; and, after keeping him in durance for some
time, came to add insult to injury.

But, ere relating what passed, it is necessary to
return to the Christian ambassadors.
243

CHAPTER XXXIX.
IN THE LION’S MOUTH.

T must be admitted that the position of the ambas-
sadors was not enviable; and, when the Templar
hastily stated that the Tartars were storming Bagdad,
even Bisset’s bold countenance fell, and his tongue
faltered.

‘I will not hide,’ said he, recovering himself, ‘ that
our doom looks dark; our heads are in the lion’s
mouth. But, as Christian warriors, we must trust in
God and the saints; and, as brave men, we must do
what we can to extricate ourselves.’

Without wasting more time in words, Bisset pro-
ceeded to buckle on his chain mail, while Walter
Espec also arrayed himself; and, while the knight
armed himself with his ponderous battle-axe, the
squire unsheathed his falchion; and both, resuming
their wonted air of dauntless courage, prepared, in
case of the worst, to sell their lives dearly. Mean-
while, the attendants of the ambassadors filled the
chamber, with alarm on their faces; and thither also
Guy Muschamp and his fellow captives found their
way, closely followed by the aged Saracen, who bowed
himself before Bisset and exclaimed —
THE FAITH OF THE AGED SARACEN. 247

‘in the name of God, save me!’

‘Save you, Saracen!’ said Bisset. ‘On my faith, I
cannot but think that the man will do well this day
who saves himself,’

‘ But,’ asked the Saracen, ‘do you not believe in a
God, born of a woman, who was crucified for the salva-
tion of the human race, and rose again the third day?’

‘ Assuredly, Saracen,’ replied Bisset, regarding his
questioner with a curious eye: ‘as certainly as I be-
lieve that I am now in the palace of the caliph, and
in greater danger than I pretend to relish.’

‘In that case,’ said the Saracen, ‘ place your hopes
in your God; for, if he was able to recall himself to
life, he will not want the power to deliver you from
the evils that now threaten you.’

‘On my faith,’ replied Bisset, a little surprised,
‘I must say that you speak the words of wisdom
were you twenty times an infidel; and, for my own
part, I would fain hope that God and the saints,
especially good St. George, will befriend us in our
jeopardy.’

Meanwhile the noise and tumult caused by the
Tartars, as they forced their way into Bagdad, drew
nearer, and shouts and shrieks were heard, which
left no doubt that they had entered the palace.
Bisset thereupon, grasping his battle-axe, took his
post. on one side of the door: the Templar, sword
in hand, stationed himself on the other. Neither
spoke, and such was the silence of those who were
likely to share their fate, that a pin might have
been heard to drop. But though the carnage was
going on around them, they were left undisturbed ;
248 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

and they pes a full hour in breathless sus-
pense.

At Jength a loud shout intimated that the Tartars
had penetrated to the garden; and Bisset, wishing
to bring matters to a crisis, stepped forward so as
to make himself visible, and then retreated to his
post. Immediately twenty of the fierce Mogul
warriors rushed towards the place, and with loud
shouts prepared for fresh carnage. But, when they
perceived the Templar and the English knight
guarding the door with the air of men who could
not fail to prove terrible antagonists, they hesitated,
paused, and seemed to think that it was necessary to
exercise caution.

Now, this delay was not without an important
result. In the leader of the Tartars, Bisset to his
astonishment saw a man whom he had met under
other circumstances, and instantly turned his dis-
covery to account.

‘Hold, hold, brave warrior!’ cried he, in a con-
ciliating tone. ‘With us you have no quarrel. We
are ambassadors who were sent hither by the King
of France to obtain the release of some captives, and
in you I recognise one of the barons of Tartary who
came to the court of the island of Cyprus, and to
whom I myself, as a knight in the Christian king’s
service, rendered what service I could. With us,
therefore, I repeat, you have no quarrel. Wherefore
should we dye our weapons in each other’s blood ?’

The Tartar remained motionless, and eyed the
knight keenly, and not without suspicion.

‘It may be as yousay,’ repliel he after some con-
OULAGON THE BRAVE. 249

sideration ; ‘and yet I know not how I am to credit
your words. Knowest thou that the Moslems have
a proverb which says, “ Hearken to a Frank, and
hear a fable? ”’

‘You do me wrong by your suspicions,’ exclaimed
Bisset. ‘On my honour as a Christian knight, I tell
you naught but the truth.’

‘Give me a token by which I may prove the
truth of what you say, suggested the Tartar. And
Bisset forthwith related several incidents that had
occurred during the residence of the Tartars at
Nicosia.

‘Enough,’ said the Tartar. ‘I now give credit to
the words you have spoken; therefore let there be peace
between thee and me, and between thy people and
my people. For the present I leave to take measures
for your security; and I will conduct you to the
presence of Oulagon the brave, brother of the great
khan, and grandson of him who received the title of
‘King of Kings” from a prophet who came down
from heaven on a white horse.’

The ambassadors now breathed freely; and the
attendants looked upon Bisset as almost more than
mortal; and the knight congratulated himself on
the prospect of getting his head out of the lion’s
den. It was not, however, till the morrow that the
Templar and the English knight were led to the
presence of Oulagon; a semi-savage warrior, with
those Tartar features which naturally looked harsh
to the eyes of men accustomed to the features of
Norman and Saxon, and short of stature, but thick-
set, compact of body, and of prodigious strength.
250 THE BOY- CRUSADERS.

Bisset was at: first by no means satisfied with Oulagon’s
look, but the Tartar mavifested every disposition tu
treat the ambassadors as friends.

‘The wrath of the King of Kings,’ said he, ‘is like
the fire of a conflagration, which the slightest wind
may light up, but which nothing but blood can
quench. But between the King of Kings and the
King of France there is peace and amity and good-
will. Wherefore, friend, say what you desire of me,
and your will shall be granted.’

‘Simply,’ replied Bisset, ‘permission to depart
with my comrade and our train, and six Christian
captives who have thrown themselves on our pro-
tection.’

‘Be it.as you will, Frank,’ said Oulagon. ‘ But not
till you have had fitting gifts; for this is the store-
house of the treasure of the world, and I would fain
send gifts to the King of France; nor would I like his
ambassadors to depart empty-handed.’

The knight and the Templar bowed.

‘ But,’ said Oulagon with a cunning leer, ‘ ere de-
parting you must visit the caliph in my company, that
you may relate to the King of the Franks howthe King
of Kings punishes men who are the enemies of both.’

And without delay the Tartar led the ambassadors
to the prison where he had on the previous day shut
up Musteazem in an iron cage, and where he had
since kept his captive without food.

‘Caliph,’ asked Oulagon approaching, ‘dost thou
hunger ?’

‘Yes,’ answered Musteazem indignantly. ‘I do
hunger, and not without cause.’ ,
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‘Ah, Caliph,” said Oulagon with bitter scorn, ‘‘ thou mayst now see thy great
fault; for if thou hadst given part of thy treasures, which thou lovest so dearly, thou
mightest have held out against me.”—p. 201.

   
MUSTEAZEM THE MISER. 251

‘Then,’ said Oulagon, ‘thou shalt have that to eat
which above all things thy heart loveth.’ And the
Tartar ordered a large golden platter, filled with
jewels and precious stones, to he brought and set
before the captive.

‘Knowest thou these treasures, caliph?’ asked he
with an affectation of carelessness.

“Yes, answered Musteazem sharply, ‘I know
them, for they are mine own.’

* And dost thou dearly love thy treasures?’ asked
Oulagon.

‘Yes,’ replied Musteazem, simply and frankly.

‘Well, then,’ said Oulagon, ‘ since thou lovest thy
treasures so well, take of these jewels as many as
thou wilt, and appease thy hunger.’

‘They are not food to eat,’ replied Musteazem,
shaking his head with an air of great dejection.

‘Ah, caliph,’ said Oulagon with bitter scorn, ‘ thou
mayest now see thy great fault; for if thou hadst
given part of thy treasures, which thou lovest so
dearly, to subsidise soldiers for thy defence, thou
mightest have held out against me. But that
which thou didst prize most highly has failed thee in
the hour of need.’

And Oulagon withdrew with the Templar and the
English knight; and soon after this interview
Musteazem drew his last breath. But whether he
perished of hunger, or of indignant despair, or by
the violence of his conquerors, is not clearly ascer-
tained. In the midst of the tumult and disorder
which followed the sack of Bagdad, and the extinc-
tion of the caliphate, chroniclers neglected to record
259 | THE BOY CRUSADERS.

under what circumstances, and how, died the last of
the caliphs.
But, however that may have been, the ambassa-
dors next morning took their departure from Bagdad.
‘Now God and all the saints be praised!’ ex-
claimed Bisset: ‘ our neads are out of the lion’s
mouth,’
203

CHAPTER XI.

END OF THE ARMED PILGRIMAGE.

HE Templar and the English knight after a

variety of adventures reached Acre, having on
their way fallen in with Father Yves, whom King
Louis had sent on a mission to ‘ the Old Man of the
Mountains ’"—that remarkable personage to whose
behests kings bowed, and at whose name princes
trembled —and a knight of the noble House of
Coucy, who had come from Constantinople, and
whose accounts of the state of the Latin empire of
the East much increased Bisset’s desire to go and
offer his sword to the Emperor Baldwin de Courtenay,
then struggling desperately to maintain his throne
against Greeks and Turks.

On reaching Acre, however, the ambassadors found
that King Louis and the court were at Sajecte, and
without delay repaired thither to present the gifts
sent by Oulagon, and inform him of the unexpected
event which had frustrated the object of their mis-
sion. Louis was deeply grieved at the failure of his
attempt to open the prison doors of the unfortunate
captives, and with tears bewailed their unhappy fate.

But soon after this, the saint-king found that the
254 THE BOY CRUSADERS,

case was not desperate. The Sultan of Damascus
went to war with the Mamelukes, and both parties
craved the alliance of the French monarch. Louis,
therefore, sent John de Valence to Cairo once more
to demand the release of the captives, and this time
he obtained something like satisfaction. Two hun-
dred knights were immediately set at liberty, and
allowed to depart for Acre, which they reached in
safety.

At length, however, news came to King Louis, |
while he was at Sajecte, which compelled him to turn
his thoughts towards France, where he was much
wanted, and to deliberate on the expediency of re-
turning to his own kingdom.

When it was known in France that the king was a
prisoner in the hands of the Saracens, the utmost
excitement prevailed throughout the land; and sud-
denly among the pastoral population appeared a man
bearing a letter, to which he pretended to attach a
mysterious importance.

‘ This,’ said he, solemnly, ‘I have mes from
the mother of God; and it commands me to assemble
all the Christian shepherds and herdsmen, and to
march at their head to deliver the king. Follow
- me then, and fear not, for the battle is not to the
strong, but reserved for the weak and humble.’

It appears that this man’s eloquence, and the
mystery which he affected, fascinated the shepherds
and herdsmen of France, and they flocked to him in
multitudes; and his followers, having been joined by
outlaws and exiles, ere long formed a formidable
force, and caused much eee
DEATH OF QUEEN BLANCHE. 255

At first, indeed, the queen-mother, Blanche of
Castille, naturally anxious for her son’s release, fa-
voured the enterprise. But the priests, aware it
might be that the leaders of the movement had
ulterior objects in view, set their faces decidedly
against it, and the leaders of the shepherds retaliated
by stirring up the populace against the priests, and
by the massacre of several ecclesiastics. On hearing
this, Queen Blanche changed her policy, took part
against the shepherds, caused their leader to be
beheaded, and their army to be dispersed. More-
over, the populace, who had at first held the shep-
herds in high honour, began to suspect them of
imposture, and slaughtered them without mercy;
and all was still doubt and dismay and confusion,
when messengers brought to Sajecte news that Queen
Blanche had breathed her last.

Louis was profoundly affected when he heard of
his mother’s death, and mourned sadly for two or
three days, without speaking with any one. How-
ever, at the end of that time, he was visited by
the papal legate, and sent for the Lord of Joinville;
and Joinville, who was on the point of going into a
meadow to amuse himself with martial exercises,
entered into conversation.

‘ Ah, seneschal,’ began the king, mournfully, * I
have lost my mother.’

‘Well, sire,’ said Joinville, calmly, ‘I am not
surprised at such an event, seeing that she was no
longer young, and that to all of us death must come
some time; but, sire, I am surprised that so great a
prince should grieve so outrageously; for you know
256 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

that the wise man says, “ Whatever grief the valiant
man may suffer in his mind, he ought not to show it
on his countenance; for he that does so causes pain
to his friends and pleasure to his enemies.” ’

‘ However, seneschal,’ said the legate, ‘the king is
much satisfied with the good and agreeable services
you have rendered him, and earnestly wishes for your
honour and advancement. He commands me to tell
you, as he knows it will give you pleasure at heart,
that he intends to embark for France on this side of
Easter.’

‘In truth, it does give me pleasure,’ said Joinville.
‘And I pray that the Lord may ever induce the king
to act in accordance with his will.’

And soon after Louis, with his queen and his
knights and nobles, returned to Acre, and made pre-
parations for his departure.

It happened that when John de Valence and his
associates went to Cairo, to treat for the release of
the French captives, and also for the remains of some
of the French warriors who fell at Mansourah, the
Saracens suddenly reminded him of the Earl of
Salisbury.

‘I wonder,’ said an emir, ‘ that you Christians, who
venerate the ashes of the dead, make no inquiry for
the bones of that most illustrious and noble-born
William, to whom you give the name of Longsword ;
whereas we, seeing that he was slain in battle and on
account of his illustrious qualities, have treated his
remains with all respect.’ |

On hearing this, the ambassadors were somewhat
confused.
A LESSON FROM THE SARACENS, 257

‘ How,’ asked they, one of another, * can we dis-
parage this man, because he was an Englishman,
when even the Saracens accord the honour due to
his nobility of soul r’

Accordingly, the Crusaders requested that Salis-
bury’s bones might be given to them; they carried
them to Acre, where they were laid, with much
respect, in the church of the Holy Cross.

It was on the afternoon of the day when the
burial took place that Bisset, who had been matur-
ing his project of repairing to Constantinople, entered
his lodgings, and took Walter Espec by one hand and
Guy Muschamp by the other.

‘ Boys,’ said he, ‘this crusade, as I foresaw, has
resulted in naught save disaster, and, as fighting
men, it behoves us to consider whither we are now
to carry our swords. For my part, I am resolved to
turn the gifts of the Tartar warrior into money, and
make without delay for Constantinople, and fight for
the Latin Emperor. Are you willing to accompany
me and share my fortunes, or must we part?’

‘ In truth, sir knight,’ replied Walter, frankly, ‘ I
sigh for the green fields and the oak forests of my
native land; and, therefore, I would fain embark with
the army of King Louis, and return to Europe.’

‘ As you will, sir squire,’ said Bisset, a little morti-
fied: ‘albeit, I cannot but deem that you are not moved
so much by the desire to visit your native land, as to
be near to a certain noble demoiselle, on whose grati-
tulle you have some claims. Well, on my life, I
blame you not; for at your age I might have felt as
you do, and, mayhap, lived to repent my delusion.
258 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

But, be it known to you that. as matters stand, the
Sultan of Damascus has intimated that he will
permit any of the pilgrims to visit Jerusalem. Now,
have you the courage—for courage will be needed—
to enter the Holy City, held as it is by fierce Saracens,
and kneel at the Holy Sepulchre ?’

‘ By Holy Katherine, sir knight!’ exclaimed Walter,
bluntly, ‘ you must hold me excused. Happy, indeed,
should I deem myself in the privilege of kneeling at
the Holy Sepulchre, even at the cost of much labour
and fatigue. But these are not the days of Godfrey
and the Baldwins; and I care not to trust to the tender
mercies of Bibars Bendocdar and his Mameluke myr-
midons. I will not needlessly put my head again
into the lion’s mouth.’

‘And what say you on the point, my gay and
puissant warrior?’ asked Bisset, turning to Guy
Muschamp. |

‘Oh,’ answered Guy, merrily, ‘as says the good
Walter, so say I, neither to Jerusalem nor to Constan-
tinople do I go. I have a father and mother and
kindred at home, whose faces I long to see. Where-
fore, I go to England, and to no other place.’

Walter Espec sighed, as he was in the habit of
doing, at the mention of kindred, and gave himself
up to painful reminiscences.

‘Sir knight,’ said he, addressing Bisset, after a long
silence, ‘deem you that my lost brother can be in the
hands of him who is known as the Old Man of the
Mountains ?’

‘ What!’ exclaimed Bisset, ‘ rearing as an assassin ?
The saints forefend |’
ANOTHER DREAM. 259

‘It is strange,’ said Walter, after a pause, ‘that I
have begun to hope better things; for, as I lay asleep
last night, methought I saw him in the flesh, and
that he looked high and brave, and that he told me
how the blessed Katherine had preserved him from
evil,’

‘ May your dream be realised ere we depart from
this holy land, good Walter!’ said Guy, with sym-
pathy.

‘Amen,’ added Bisset, earnestly. ‘ More unlikely
things have come to pass.’

_ And, in truth, such a result was not altogether im-
possible; for at that moment Walter Espec and
Osbert Espec were both within the walls of Acre.
But Walter was preparing to embark for Europe; and
Osbert was on the eve of setting out for the castle of
Kakhow, not to return for many days. But the stars
had decreed that they were to meet.
CHAPTER XLI.
A SUDDEN DISCOVERY.

T was evening, and shadows were closing over Acre.
But the scene thus presented was fair to behold.
The sky was richly coloured, the setting sun painted
the landscape in brilliant hues, the wind sighed
among the palms and lofty sycamores, and the waves
of the Mediterranean murmured against the white
walls and on the Syrian shore.

Walter Espec sat in the lodgings of Bisset, hard by
the palace occupied by the King of France, and he
was alone. Bisset had been summoned to attend the
king; Guy Muschamp had gone to visit his kinsman,
the Lord of Joinville; and Walter, left with his own
thoughts, was reclining on a couch, and resting his
head against a window, with his eyes fixed on the
citizens who passed before him, on their way to .
breathe the air in the gardens outside the walls,
when he was aroused by the tramp of cavalry, and
the approach of a body of warriors, whose white
mantles over their armour, and whole appearance,
indicated that they were military monks. Walter’s
curiosity was aroused, and he shouted to make
inquiries of a portly citizen who was passing at the
A GOSSIP. 261

moment, and who, as Walter kn<w, was a confirined
SOSSIp. :

‘ Good citizen,’ said he, * these are warrior monks,
and yet they neither wear the habit of the Templars
nor the Hospitallers. Canst tell me what knights
they be who come along so proudly ?’

‘ In faith can I, sir squire,’ answered the citizen;
‘and blithely will Ido so. These be the knights of
St. Katherine, of Mount Sinai; and they are brave
men in hours of danger; albeit, like other Orders,
overmuch given to amassing wealth, and more intent
on keeping it than keeping the vows of their Order.’

‘Thanks, good citizen,’ said Walter, laughing
heartily, as Crusaders generally did when reminded
of the faults of the military monks. ‘ And, to re-
quite your courtesy, I admonish you to speak ina
whisper when you say aught in dispraise of Tem-
plars or Hospitallers; for you must be a bolder man
than I pretend to be, if you fear not to provoke their
enmity.’

‘Gramercy for your warning, young squire,’ re-
plied the citizen, as, apparently much amused, and
chuckling to himself, he proceeded on his way; while
Walter, standing up, watched the warrior monks as
they passed the window,

Now, Walter Espec had of course heard of the
monks of St. Katherine, and especially what a stern
front they had presented on the day when the
Saracens threatened Acre, and carried off Adeline de
Brienne. Moreover, he was naturally somewhat in-
terested in an Order instituted in honour of the
tutelar saint of his Tlouse: but he had never before
262 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

seen them; and he looked ont with no inconsiderable
curiosity as, mounted on choice steeds, they came on
and swept along, with bronzed visages, athletic forms,
muscular limbs, and the air of men who believed im-
plicitly in their own superiority over their com-
peers, and desired nothing so much as foes to
conquer.

But suddenly Walter started in amazement, and
uttered a cry ; then remained for a moment silent, and
quivered with agitation; then seized his cap, and,
rushing from the house, hastened, with excitement on
his countenance and wildness in his manner, after the
warrior monks, not losing sight of them till they
disappeared within the gates of the castle of St.
Katherine, which they possessed in Acre, near the
gate of St. Anthony. Into this building he de-
manded to be admitted.

‘Two hours later, Walter Espec returned to his
lodgings, and found Guy Muschamp awaiting his
return, and impatient to tell him that everything
was arranged for embarking for France in the king’s
ship In company with the Lord of Joinville. But
observing that his friend’s countenance wore a look
of extraordinary elation, he, for the time being,
quite forgot the commuzication he had intended to
make, and eyed him with an Ep Presion. of keen
curiosity.

‘Good Walter,’ said he, quickly, and with interest,
‘you appear so excited that I cannot but presume
that something wonderful has befallen you since we
parted ?’

‘In truth, brave Guy. you guess aright,’ replied
i] mit HT

 

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Suddenly Walter started in amazement, and uttered a cry; th n remained for a mo-
ment silent, and quivered with agitation; then seized his cap, and, rushing from
the house, hastened, with excitement on his courtenance and wildne:s in his manuer,
after the warrior monk.—p. 262. ,
THE LOST BROTHER. 263

Walter, taking his friend’s hand. <‘ Rejoice with me,
my brother-in-arms, for I have found him who was
lost.’

‘Found your brother! — found QOsbert Espec!?
exclaimed Guy, in surprise.

‘It is true as that [am a living man,’ replied Walter,
joyfully. ‘ When he reached Marseilles with the com-
panions of his pilgrimage, instead, like them, of going
back to die of hunger in the forests, or listening, like
them, to the temptations of the two rascal merchants
by whom they were ensnared, he embarked on board
the “ Christopher,” which was on the point of sailing
for Acre; and the skipper, having brought him ashore,
carried him to the house of a Northern knight, who
had long been fighting for the Cross. And this noble
walrior, being about to return to England, placed
bim under the protection of the Grand Master of the
Order of St. Katherine; and, when he was of a fitting
age, the grand master, to whom the name of Espec
was honourably known, made him take the vows of
the Order. And now, thanks to God and Holy
Katherine, he is in safety and honour, and rides
bravely as the bravest among his brethren, with his
white mantle over his chain mail.’

‘By St. John of Beverley!’ exclaimed Guy, in
surprise, ‘I much rejoice to hear that he was so
graciously protected by the saints in the hour of
danger, and that his fortune has been such as is
worthy of a Norman gentleman.’

‘ And what is more,’ said Walter, proudly, ‘it was
he who unhorsed the two Saracens with his lance
without breaking it, and who wounded their leader
264 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

on that day when they came hither to demand
tribute.’ |

‘A most worthy exploit, as 1t has been related to
me,’ replied Guy; ‘and one that does credit to his
strength and courage. But tell me, good Walter,
how rejoiced he was to see you after so long a sepa-
ration, and all your suffering on his account.’

A shade of disappointment appeared on Walter
Espec’s handsome countenance. After a pause, how-
ever, he replied — |

‘In faith, brave Guy, to be frank with you, I must
own that my brother, for whom I had so long
mourned, manifested less enthusiasm than I ex-
pected; and when I talked to him of our castellated
house of Heckspeth, on the Wansbeck, and of the
tombs of our ancestors in the Abbey of Newminster,
and even of my great namesake, the glory of our line,
I perceived right well that he cared for none of these
things. His heart and soul are in his Order, its
renown and influence; and all his hopes are for the
restoration of its glory. And nothing would serve
him but attempting to induce me to take the vows
of poverty and celibacy and obedience. But I
answered readily, that such vows were not to my
liking—that I despise not riches; that I rather love
noble demoiselles; and that I am by nature more
inclined to command than to obey; in short, that I
will neither be a warrior monk nor a monk in min-
ster. And so the great bell of the castle of St.
Katherine tolled, and we parted; and at daybreak
he mounts to ride to the castle of Kakhow, which the
knights of his Order hold.
IIOME IN THE DISTANCE, 265

‘And now, good Walter,’ said Guy, ‘having ful-
filled your mission, for such you deemed it, you will
return to England with a light heart.’

But Walter Espec only sighed, as his thoughts re-
verted to Adeline de Brienne and to the great gulf
that seemed to interpose between them.
td
cm
Ce

CHAPTER XLII.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

N the vigil of St. Mark, after Easter, the Cru-
saders having mustered at Acre, flocked on
board their ships and prepared to set sail for Europe.
On that day also the King of France, leaving
Geoffrey de Segrines with a hundred knights to aid
in the defence of what remained of the once grand
kingdom of Godfrey and the Baldwins, left the
palace which he had occupied, and, attended by the
papal legate, the Patriarch of Jerusalem, and the
Christian nobles and knights of Palestine, walked on
foot to the port, amid an immense crowd assembled
to witness his departure, who all, while lamenting
his departure, applauded him as the Father of the
Christians, and implored Heaven to shower blessings
on his head. *

‘This is the day of St. Mark, seneschal,’ said
Louis to Joinville, as they went on board; ‘and on
St. Mark’s-day was I born at Poissy.’

‘Sire,’ replied Joinville, ‘you may well say that
you have been born again on St. Mark’s-day; for you
are escaping from a pestilent land, where you have
remained so lone.’
A SANDBANK, 267

Bisset, the English knight, resolute to his purpose,
had taken fareweil of his companions, and embarked
for Constantinople, to wield his ponderous battle-axe
in the cause of Baldwin de Courtenay, whose empire
was falling to ruins. But Walter Espec and Guy
Muschamp were on board the king’s vessel, through
the influence of the Lord of Joinville; and there a!so
was Beltran the renegade, who, touched with
remorse, had abandoned his wealth in Egypt, and
was doing penance by labouring as a seaman.

At length the fleet weighed anchor and set sail,
with every prospect of a prosperous voyage. But, ere
long, a somewhat alarming accident occurred. On
Saturday, as the French approached Cyprus, about
vespers, the vessels were suddenly enveloped in a
thick fog, and the ship in which were the king and
queen struck on a sandbank, and was so damaged
that Louis was recommended to leave it without loss
of time. |

‘ Sire,’ said the skipper, ‘if you will believe me,
you must remove from this ship to another. We
well know that, since the keel has suffered so much
damage, all the ribs must be started, and should
there be a high wind, we fear she will be unable to
bear the sea without sinking.’

‘Now,’ said the king, ‘I put it to you on your
faith and loyalty, to tell me truly, if the ship were
your own, and full of merchandise, would you
cea

‘No!’ said the skipper; ‘for we would rather risk
our lives than lose a vessel worth forty or fiity
thousand livres.’
263 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

‘Why, then, do you advise me to qu.t it?’ asked
the king. 7

‘ Oh, sire,’ answered the skipper, ‘ we are different
sort of beings; for there is no sum, however great,
that could compensate for the loss of yourself and
the queen and your children; and we cannot advise
you to run such a risk.’

‘Ah,’ replied the king, ‘now that you have an-
swered, I will tell you what I think of the matter.
Suppose I quit this vessel, there are five hundred
persons on board, who will remain in Cyprus for fear
of the danger that may befall them should they stay
on board. Now,’ continued Louis, § there is not one
among them who is attached to his own person more
than I am myself; and, if we land, they will lose all
hope of returning to their own country. Therefore,
I declare I will rather expose myself, the queen, and
my children to some danger, under the providence of
God, than make such numbers of people suffer as are
now with me.’

The example which Louis set inspired the com-
panions of his voyage with courage; and the flect
having resumed its course, encountered, but survived,
a violent storm, took in water at Cyprus, and soon
alter came in sight of Lampedosa, an island which
was then uninhabited. And here a strange incident
occurred.

It happened ‘that King Louis and his company,
including Walter Espec and Guy Muschamp, landed,
and, same climbing among the rocks, discovered a
hermitage, with a handsome garden, planted with
olives, figs, vines, and many other fruit trees, and
THE RENEGADE TURNS HERMIT. 269

watered by a beautiful spring. On going to the
upper end of the garden, the king and his company
found an oratory, the roof of which was painted
white, with a red cross in the centre, and, in a cham-
ber more retired, two bodies laid toward the East,
with their hands on their breasts. Soon after the
king and his company, conversing about what they
had seen, returned on board their ship, and the
skipper was about to weigh anchor, when it was
discovered that one of the warriors who had gone
ashore was missing; and this caused much excite-
ment.

‘J think I can account for this,’ said the skipper.
© One of the sailors was desirous of turniug hermit,
and I doubt not he has seized so fair an opportunity.’

Walter Espec and Guy Muschamp exchanged
glances. It was Beltran the renegade, who had
thus devoted himself to solitude.

‘Well,’ said the king, on hearing this, ‘let three
sacks of biscuit be left on the shore; the man may
find them, and, if so, they will serve for sustenance.’

Soon after this an accident happened to one of the
squires on board the ship of one of the barons of
Provence, which, at the time, was about half a league
from that of the king. One morning, finding, as
he lay in bed, that the sea dashed into his eyes and
much annoyed him, he ordered the squire to stop
it up. Having in vain attempted to do so from the
inside, the squire went outside, and was endeavouring
to stop the hole, when his foot slipped and he fell
into the sea. The ship kept on her way without
the mariners being aware of what had happened,
270 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

and as the squire did not attempt to move, those
on board the king’s ship thought some piece of
furniture had tumbled overboard. On coming
nearer, however, they perceived that it was a human
being, and Walter and Guy, with some mariners,
lowered a boat, rowed to the rescue, and suc-
ceeded in saving him.

On being brought on board the king’s ship, the
squire related how he met with the accident, and —
was asked why he did not endeavour to save himself
by swimming.

‘In faith,’ answered the squire, ‘I had no occasion
so to do; for, as I fell into the sea, I cried, “Our
Lady of Valbert!” and she supported me by the
shoulders till I was rescued.’

‘In good sooth,’ remarked the Lord of Joinville,
on hearing this, ‘it is truly marvellous; and, to
perpetuate the memory of this miracle, I vow to
have it painted on the windows of my chapel at
Joinville, and also on the windows of the church
at Blecourt;’ and, on reaching home, the noble
seneschal kept his word.

And now the ships tilted over the oe and,
after a voyage of ten weeks, they reached the Port
of Hieros, in front of a castle which, in right of his
spouse, belonged to the king’s brother, the Count
of Anjou. Louis, however, was not inclined to land.
In vain the queen and his council advised him to
disembark.

‘No,’ said he, *I will not land till I can do so on
my own territory; I will not disembark till I arrive
at Aigues Mortes,’
MONTPELLIER. 271

Everybody looked extremely disappointed.

‘Seneschal,’ said Louis, turning to Joinville, ‘ what
is your opinion ?’

‘Sire,’ replied Joinville, ‘it seems to me that you
ought to land; for Madame de Bourbon, being once
in this very port, put again to sea to land at Aigues
Mortes, and she was tossed about for seven long
weeks before she could make that harbour.’

‘Seneschal,’ said the king, ‘you have persuaded
me.’ And goon after, to the joy of the queen and
all on board, Louis landed at Hieros, and with
Margaret and his children took up’ his residence
in the castle, to rest from his fatigues ere setting
out for his cwn dominions. Indeed, the saint-king
was so weak, that Joinville had to carry him in his
arms; and for some time he could hardly support
the weight of his armour, or remain on horseback.

But Louis had yet many years of life before him;
and after repairing for a time to recruit his health
at Montpellier, where then, as in alter ages, the
medical science eminently flourished, he in the
autumn arrived at Vincennes, and after prostrating
himself before the altar of St. Denis and restoring
the oriflamme to the abbot, he proceeded to Paris,
where he was received with profound respect. But
the saint-king bore on his brow traces of the sorrow

caused by the multiplied disasters of his expedition,
~ and still wore the symbol of salvation on bis shoulder,
as if to intimate that he was not yet done with the
Holy Land. |
CHAPTER XLII.
A ROYAL VISIT.

HE countenance of the King of France did not
belie his heart. He was sad, and much more
dejected than when he was in captivity and chains
at Mansourah, bullied by the Saracens, and threatened
with the bernicles. Nor was there any affectation
in his continuing to wear the cross on his shoulder;
as he proved, sixteen years later, when he undertook
his ill-fated expedition to Tunis, and died, on a bed
of ashes, amid the ruins of Carthage, looking up to
heaven, and exclaiming with his latest breath, ‘I
will enter into Thy house; I will worship in Thy
holy tabernacle !’

Meanwhile the saint-king appeared inconsolable,
and refused to be comforted. Even the affectionate
velcome accorded him by his people failed to dispel
his gloom or cheer his soul. Day and night he
brooded over his defeats and disasters, and sighed
dolefully as his memory recalled the humiliation
to which, in his person, the cause of Christianity
had been exposed at the hands of the Moslem.

Fortunately, at that time, Henry, King of Eneland,
being at Bordeaux, offered Louis a visit; and the
HENRY, KING OF ENGLAND. 273

- saintly monarch, rousing himself to welcome his
royal brother-in-law, made preparations for his
reception.. Moreover, when Henry’s approach was
announced, Louis mounted and went forth to meet
his guest; and, ere long, the King of England with
a magnificent train appeared in sight.

Henry was considerably older than Louis. Indeed,
be had now attained the age of forty-seven. But
his frame. was vigorous; he had always enjoyed
robust health; and, as he had taken life easily, time
and trouble had not wrought so much havoc on
him as on the French monarch. He was of the
middle height, and compactly built, and would have
been accounted handsome, but that one of his eyelids
lung down in such a way as to conceal part of the
eyeball, and rather spoiled a face which otherwise
would have been pleasant to look upon. But, such
as his person was, Henry did not neglect its adorn-
ment. He had all a Plantagenet’s love of splendour,
and the gorgeousness of his dress was such as to
excite the wonder of his contemporaries. By his
right hand rode his spouse, Eleanor of Provence,
sister of the Queen of France, no longer young,
but still preserving, in face and form, much of the
beauty and grace which, twenty years earlier, made
the name of the second daughter of Raymond
Berenger celebrated at the courts of Europe.

Behind the King and Queen of England, on a
black steed, which he bestrode with remarkable
grace, rode their son, Edward, taller by the head and
stoulders than other tall men, and already, though
not out of his teens, renowned as one of the bravest -
274 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

and handsomest princes in Christendom. With him
was his very juvenile wife, Eleanor of Castille, whom
he had recently espoused at Burgos, and brought over
the Pyrenees to Bordeaux, on his way to England.

But the procession did not stop here; for, as the
chronicler tells us, ‘the King of England had in his
own retinue a thousand handsome horses, ridden
by men of dignity and rank, besides waggons and
sumpter cattle, as well as a large number of choice
horses, so that the unusual novelty of the array
caused great astonishment to the French”

The meeting of the two kings was all that could
have been desired by the most enthusiastic advocate
of the French alliance who could have been found
in England; and, ‘at sight of one another, they
rushed into each other’s arms, and after mutual
greeting, entered into conversation.’ Naturally
enough, the first subject on which they touched
was the crusade from which Louis had just returned ;
and the saint-king seemed relieved to meet with a
man to whom he could, without derogating from his
dignity, unbosom his griefs.

‘My friend,’ said Louis, mournfully, * you cannot
imagine how pleasant your voice is to my ears; lct
us enjoy ourselves in talking together, for never,
perhaps, shall we have such an opportunity. In truth,’
added he, as they rode on side by side towards Paris,
‘it 1s no easy matter to tell how much bitterness of
spirit I endured while on my pilgrimage through
love of Christ.’

‘I believe it, Louis, my cousin,’ said Henry
quickly.
THE SYMBOL OF THE CROSS. 275

‘And yet,’ continued Louis, ‘albeit everything
turned against me, I return thanks to the Most
High; for, on reflection, I rejoice more in the
patience which God granted me, than if the whole
world were to be made subject to my rule. And
yet, my friend, when I think of all my mishaps,
my heart saddens and my soul is heavy.’

‘Cousin,’ said Henry, kindly, ‘beware of casting
yourself into a life-wearying sorrow; for holy men
will tell you that it is the stepmother of souls, and
that it absorbs spiritual joy, and generates prejudice
to the Holy Spirit. Recall to your mind the patience
of Job, the endurance of Eustace.’ And Henry pro-
ceeded to relate much that he knew, and much that
he did not comprehend, of the history of both, and
how, in the end, God rewarded them.

‘My friend,’ said Louis, ‘if I were the only one
to suffer the trouble and disgrace, and if my sins
did not fall on the church universal, I could bear all
with equanimity; but, woe is me, through me the
whole of Christendom is enveloped in confusion and
shame.’

‘And, cousin,’ said Henry, ‘I perceive that you
still wear the symbol of the cross on your raiment.’

‘I do,’ replied Louis, ‘ because I have not concluded
my pilgrimage; I have only suspended it; therefore
bear I the sacred symbol. And you also, Henry,
you have taken the cross, and vowed to fight for the
~ Holy Sepulchre.’

‘Cousin,’ answered Henry, gravely, but frankly,
‘when I heard that you were a prisoner in the
hands of the Saracens, I did take the cross and vow
276 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

to go to the rescue; but now that, by God’s grace,
you are at liberty, I cannot but think that itis my
duty to remain at home and minister to the welfare
of my subjects.’

‘And yet, urged Louis, ‘we are told that he who
will not take up his cross and come with me, 1s not
worthy of me; and I know you, Henry, to be a man
who, albeit you are negligent in punishing Jews and
heretics, are distinguished for attention to the things
that belong to your eternal peace, and by your
devotion to the Lord.’

‘In truth, cousin,’ replied Henry, not sorry
perhaps, to leave the subject of the crusade, ‘I am
regular, at least, in my religious exercises; for it is
my custom, every day, to hear three masses, with
the notes, and, as [ wish to hear more, I assiduously
assist at the celebration of private masses; and when
the priest elevates the Host, I usually hold the ae
of the priest and kiss it.’

‘Nevertheless, my friend,’ remarked .Louis, ‘J
cannot but deem that the attention ought not always
to be devoted to the hearing of masses, but that we
ought to hear sermons as often as possible.’

‘Mayhap,’ said Henry. ‘And yet, by God’s help,
I would rather see a friend often than hear of him,
even although I should hear nothing spoken of him
but good.’

As the two kings conversed they entered Paris
side by side, and the sight which met the eyes of
the English might well, indeed, raise their admira-
tion. The city, with its squares and bridges and
churches and houses built of gypsum, was splendidly
A HEARTY WELCOME, . oie

_ decorated with bowers of leaves and flowers; many
of the mansions were three and four storeys in
height, and the windows were crowded with people
of both sexes, gaily dressed, and excited with the
spectacle. Everything wore a holiday guise; and the
citizens and the scholars of the University, especially
those of English birth, suspending their readings
and disputations, came forth in crowds, carrying
branches of trees, and attended by bands of music.
Everybody appeared eager to accord the royal guests
a hearty welcome; and Louis, after thanking the
scholars for showing his friends so much honour,
turned to Henry.

‘My friend,’ said he, ‘I place Paris at your dis-
posal. Where will you be pleased to take up your —
abode? There is my palace in the middle of the city ;
or, if you prefer taking up your residence at the Old
Temple, which is more roomy, it shall be so arranged.’

‘Verily,’ answered Henry, ‘I think I must choose
the Old Temple; for I hear it is roomy enough to
lodge an army, and my company, as you see, is
somewhat numerous; and there it is my purpose to
give a banquet on the morrow, and I trust that you
and your princes and nobles will honour it with
your presence.’

‘After which,’ said Louis, ‘you must come as
my guest to my palace. Nay, nay,’ continued he,
as Henry sought to excuse himself, ‘let it be so:
for it is proper for me to perform all the-duties of
courtesy and hospitality. In my own kingdom I
am lord,’ he added, with a smile; ‘and I will be
master in my own house.’

S
278 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

‘On my faith,’ said Walter Espec to Guy Mus-
champ, as gallantly the brothers-in-arms rode in
the train of the saint-king, ‘this is a great day for
England!’

‘In truth it is, replied Guy, gaily. ‘Methinks
there are Englishmen enough in Paris to take the
city.’
2:9

CHAPTER XLIV.
THE FEAST OF KINGS.

N the day after the arrival of Henry and his
queen in Paris, that marvellous banquet,
described as ‘the feast of kings,’ was given in the
great hall of the Old Temple; and a mighty enter-
tainment it appears to have been, if we are to judge
from the description of the chronicler, who tells us
that ‘never in times past was there ‘given such a
rich and splendid banquet, even in the time of
Esther, or of Arthur, or of Charles.’ Besides three
kings—those of Navarre, and France, and England,
with their queens—there were present eighteen
countesses, and twenty-five counts, and twe:ve
bishops; not to mention a host of noble knights
and ladies—knights illustrious for their valour, aud
ladies celebrated for their beauty.

As the guests were ranged according to their
rank, some difficulty arose as to who was to preside.
Henry requested Louis to assume the post of honour ;
but Louis protested.

‘It is more fitting,’ said he, ‘that the master of
the feast should occupy the chicf seat.’

Not so, my lord king, ureed Henry. ‘It is more

 
2380 THE BOY CI RUSADERS.

becoming and proper for you to sit in the middle;
seeing that you are my sovereign, and will be so,
for the reason is plain.’

‘Henry,’ replied Louis, in a low voice, ‘ would
that every one could obtain his right without injury.
But in your case, added he, alluding to Henry's
claims on Normandy and Anjou, ‘the pride of the
I’rench would never permit it. But enough of this.’

Now it happened that the great hall was, according
to the continental custom, hung around with as
many bucklers as the four walls would hold, and
among them was the shield of Coeur de Lion; and
when the feast was drawing to a close, the revaly
began to look around and examine them.

‘My lord,’ said the Count of Anjou, jocularly
addressing Henry, ‘ why have you invited the French
to dine with you in this house of all others? See,
there is the shield of the lion-hearted King Richard.
I marvel that your guests have been able to eat
vithout fear and trembling.’

Now this remark, uttered as it was in a tone of
irony, was calculated to excite unpleasant sensations,
and to recall disagreeable reminiscences; and Henry
looked mortified, and Prince Edward threw his
magnificent head disdainfully backward. But Louis, —
ever on the watch, hastened to soothe their rising ire.

‘Would to God, Henry!’ said he, earnestly, ‘ that
the twelve peers of France and the barons would
azree to my wishes. We should then be inseparable
friends,’ |

‘I believe it, Louis, my cousin,’ exclaimed Henry,

quickly.
SERVICES AND PERILS REWARDED. 281

‘I grieve, my Lord knows,’ continued Louis, ‘ that
our feelings of affection cannot be cemented on all
points; but I cannot bend the obstinacy of my
barons; and therefore I perceive plainly that you
will never recover your rights.’

‘Nay, the future is with God and his saints,’
said Henry; who, pacific as he was, by no means
relished the idea of the Plantagenets being per-
petually excluded from their inheritance. ‘ Mean-
while, cousin, there is peace between us, and let
not the feast flag.’

‘Henry,’ said Louis, pausing, as he approached a
painful subject, ‘it grieves me sore to think that, of
all the English who landed with me at Damietta,
few, indeed, escaped the carnage of Mansourah.
Nevertheless, I have brought home with me two
English squires, who are anxious to return to their
own country, and whom I would fain recommend
to your gracious protection.’

‘Cousin, said Henry, responding with readiness
and sympathy, ‘for your sake I will both protect and
honour them.’

Walter Espec and Guy Muschamp were imme-
diately summoned, and, marching up the great hall
between the tables, approached the two kings and
bent their knees. _

‘Both of them,’ explained Louis, mildly, ‘ have
rendered good services, and encountered great perils,
and undergone great sufferings for the cross. One
saved my brother, the Count of Poictiers, from
captivity; and the other saved my kinswoman,
Adeline de Brienne, from still worse evils.” And
282 THE BOY CRUSADERS.

the king looked towards the noble demoiselle, who, |
princess as she was, felt her heart beat rapidly, and
was under the necessity of making a strong effort
not to betray the interest which she felt in the
fortunes of the young warrior, with whose fate, she
had convinced herself, since the rescue at Posse-
Poulain, her own was strangely intermingled.

‘Wherefore,’ continued Louis, ‘I would fain, ere
parting with them, give them a token of my appre-_
ciation of their piety, and the courage they have
shown in hours of danger and disaster, as I have
already admonished them how to act towards their
God and their neighbour. Kneel.’

And as they obeyed, Louis gave each of them
three blows on the shoulder with the flat of his
weapon, mentioning the name of each, and repeating
the formula—-‘ In the name of God, of St. Michael,
and St. George, I dub thee knight. Rise up, Sir
Walter Espec, and Sir Guy Muschamp.’

And as Walter and Guy rose to their feet, blush-
ing with this new and unexpected honour, Louis
added—

‘And now you will accompany your king to
England, and lose no time in winning your spurs,
so as to justify me, in the eyes of men, for having
thus distinguished you.’

‘By St. George, cousin,’ said Henry, laughing, ‘I
fear me that their patience will be put to the test;
for at present I have not an uy against who
to lead such redoubted warriors.’

‘My lord and father,’ said Prince Edward, inter-
posing, ‘if the young knights will enter my service,
BROTHERS-IN-ANMS STILL 283

T will undertake to find them enough of work to keep
their swords from rusting.’

‘IT doubt it not, Edward,’ replied Henry, serious!y,
‘I doubt it not;’ and, turning to Louis, he added
by way of explanation, ‘I have gifted my son with
the principality of Wales, and recommended him to
employ his youth in bringing the natives to obe-
dience; and I know enough of the Welsh to be
aware that he has before him an arduous duty.
Now, young gentlemen,’ said he, addressing Guy and
Walter, ‘will you take service with the prince, and
go to war under his banner ?’

‘In truth, my lord,’ answered Walter, ‘ nothing
could be more to my mind than so to do.’

‘And what say you, most doughty warrior?’ said
Henry, looking towards the heir of the Muschamps.

‘My lord,’ replied Guy, cheerfully, ‘we are
brothers in arms; and, as says Walter, so say I.’

And when Henry and Queen Eleanor left Paris,
and took leave of Louis and his court at Chartres
to return to Bordeaux, Walter Espec and Guy
Muschamp rode off in Prince Edward’s train; Guy,
laughing as he thought how much his new dignity
would add to his importance when he reached his
father’s castle, and Walter, casting many a look
behind to catch a last glance of Adeline de Brienne.

And so ended the adventures of the Boy Crusaders,
 
OSI io Tage

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