We have seen the solicitations of the church, and the eloquence of two extraordinary men, produce the first and second crusades; but many other incitements were added to clerical exhortations before the inveterate enmity of the French and English could be sufficiently calmed to permit of any thing like a united expedition for the recovery of the Holy Land. The Italian merchants,[643] who at that time carried on the commerce of the world, were the first that brought to Europe the terrible news of the battle of Tiberias, the capture of Jerusalem, and the fall of Palestine: but very soon after, William of Tyre,[644] the noble historian of the crusades, set out in person to demand assistance in behalf of his afflicted country from all the princes of Christendom. He first landed in Sicily, where William, king of that country, who had married Joan of England, received him with kindness, and instantly took measures for furnishing such assistance to the Christians of the Holy Land, that the small territory yet unconquered might be successfully defended till further succour could arrive. Three hundred knights and a considerable naval force were despatched at once; and William of Sicily was continuing zealously his preparations, when death cut him off in the midst; and the crown was seized by Tancred, natural son of Roger I.

From Sicily, the Archbishop of Tyre proceeded to Rome; but he only arrived in time to witness the death of Pope Urban III.,[645] whose mind was so deeply affected by the loss of the Holy Land, and the capture of the sepulchre, that his enfeebled constitution gave way under the shock, and he literally died of grief. Gregory VIII., who succeeded, lost not a moment in preaching a new crusade; and during his short pontificate of but two months, he left no means untried to heal the dissensions of Christendom, and to turn the arms of the princes who now employed them against each other to the service of God, as it was then considered, in the deliverance of that land which had been sanctified by his advent.

The first who took the Cross was the famous Frederic Barbarossa,[646] who conducted a magnificent army across Hungary and Greece, saw through and defeated the perfidious schemes of the Greek emperor, Isaac Angelus,[647] passed on into Asia Minor, overthrew in a pitched battle the Saracen forces which had been called against him by the base and cowardly Greek, and took the city of Iconium itself. Such splendid successes, with so little loss, had never before attended any Christian host; but the light that shone upon the German arms was soon changed to darkness by the death of Frederic, who, bathing imprudently in the Orontes,[648] returned to his tent in a dying state, and soon after expired[649] at seventy years of age. After the decease of the emperor, while Henry, his eldest son, who had remained in Germany, assumed the imperial crown, Philip Duke of Suabia led on the host towards Antioch. But the very name of Frederic had been a subject of such fear, even to Saladin himself,[650] that he had ordered the towns of Laodicea, Ghibel, Tortosa, Biblios, Berytes, and Sidon to be dismantled at the approach of the Germans. Now, again, the Saracens resumed the offensive; and, between war and famine, the Teutonic crusaders were reduced to a small body when they reached Antioch. Their force was still sufficient to give them the command of that city, and proved a most serviceable aid to the Christian troops, who were slowly beginning to rally throughout Palestine. A new military institution was soon after attached, by the duke of Suabia, to the German hospital, which had been founded at Jerusalem many years before by some northern merchants, and had since been greatly enlarged by the Hanseatic[651] traders of Bremen and Lubec. On this establishment he grafted the Order of the Knights of the Holy Cross, or the Teutonic knights of the Hospital of St. Mary,[652] which soon greatly increased, and was sanctioned by papal authority.

I must now return to France and England, where private feuds had prevented the distresses of Palestine from producing so immediate an effect as they had wrought with the Germans. Henry II. had, as we have already seen, espoused Eleonor, the repudiated wife of Louis VII., and had obtained with her the whole of Aquitain.[653] This, in addition to Normandy, which he also held as a feudatory of the French crown, rendered the kingly vassal a greater territorial lord than even the sovereign to whom he did homage for his continental lands. Such a state of things, was alone quite sufficient to cause endless dissensions; but soon more immediate matter was found. Louis VII. died. Philip Augustus succeeded, yet in his youth; and Henry II., after having himself, in execution of the feudal duty of the dukes of Normandy, lifted the crown with which Philip’s brow was to be decorated, endeavoured to strengthen his own party in France as much as possible against the young monarch. His second son, Geoffrey, he married to Constance, Dutchess of Brittany: his eldest son, Henry, espoused Marguerite, sister of Philip, and received with her the lordship of Gisors,[654] and the territory of the Vexin. Prince Henry died early, leaving no children; and the land, by his marriage contract, reverted to the crown of France; but his father refused to yield it. War broke out in consequence, and was raging fiercely when the news of the fall of Jerusalem reached Europe. The tidings were so unexpected, each one felt so deep and religious a devotion for the Holy Land, every knight had there so many relations or friends, that the news found a thousand avenues open to the hearts of all who heard it. The world, too, was then mad with song. Nations in that early age had all the zealous passions of youth. That fresh ardour—that wild spirit of pursuit, which almost every one must have felt in his own young days, was then the character of society at large. Europe was as an enthusiastic boy, and whatever it followed, love, religion, song, it followed with the uncontrolled passion, the fiery desire which burns but in the days of boyhood among nations as among men. Poetry had now become both the great delight, and the great mover of the day; and all the eloquence of verse found a fit subject in the sorrows of Palestine. The Troubadours[655] and the Trouveres vied with each other, which should do most to stimulate the monarchs and the Chivalry of Europe to lay aside their private quarrels, and to fly to the deliverance of the Holy Land. The plainte was heard from castle to castle, mourning over the loss of Jerusalem. The sirvente and the fabliau were spread far and wide, lashing with all the virulence of indignant satire those whom feuds or interests withheld from the battles of the Cross. The papal authority enjoined, with its menaces and its inducements, peace to Europe and war to the Saracen: but even superstition and zeal effected little, when compared with the power of the new passion for song. The first crusade had been the effect of a general enthusiasm; the second of individual eloquence; but this was the crusade of poetry. The first two were brought about by the clergy alone; but this was the work of the Troubadours.A truce between Henry II. and Philip Augustus was agreed upon, and a meeting was fixed between Trie and Gisors,[656] for the purpose of considering the manner of settling all difficulties, and the best means of delivering Jerusalem. The whole of the barons of France and England were present at this parliament, which was held in the month of January, and mutual jealousies and hatred had nearly turned the assembly, which met to promote peace, to the purposes of bloodshed. At length the Cardinal of Albano and William, Archbishop of Tyre, presented themselves to the meeting; and the oriental prelate having related all the horrors he had himself beheld in the Holy Land—the slaughter of Tiberias, the fall of Jerusalem, the pollution of the temple, and the capture of the sepulchre—the symbol of the Cross was unanimously adopted by all; private wars were laid aside, and a mode of proceeding was determined on which promised to furnish vast supplies for the holy enterprise to which the kings and barons bound themselves.

The first of the measures resolved was to enforce a general contribution from all persons who did not take the Cross, whether clergy or laity, towards defraying the expense of the crusade. This consisted of a tenth of all possessions, whether landed or personal, and was called Saladin’s tithe. Each lord, clerical or secular, had the right of raising this tax within his own feoff. The lord of the commune could alone tithe his burghers, the archbishop his see, the abbot the lands of the monastery, the chapter the lands of the church. Any knight having taken the Cross, and being the legitimate heir of a knight or a widow[657] who had not taken the Cross, was entitled to lay the tax upon the lands of the other; while all who refused or neglected to pay their quota were given absolutely to the disposal of him who had the right to require it. At the same time that such inflictions were adjudged to those who rejected the call to the Holy Land, many immunities were accorded to such as followed the crusade. Great facilities were given to all the crusaders for the payment of their anterior debts; but they were by no means, as has been frequently asserted,[658] liberated from all engagements during the time they were occupied in the expedition. Such were the regulations which were first brought forward at Gisors. Each of the monarchs proposed them afterward to a separate court of their barons and clergy, Philip at Paris, and Henry, first at Rouen, to his Norman council, and afterward to his English vassals at Geddington, in Northamptonshire.

All seemed now to tend rapidly towards the great enterprise; nothing was seen in the various countries but the symbol of the Cross, which in England was of ermine or white, of gules or red for France, and of synople or green for Flanders.

But the whole current of feeling was suddenly turned, by an aggression of Richard, Duke of Guienne, afterward King of England, upon the territories of the Count of Toulouse. Philip Augustus flew to arms to avenge his vassal and friend; Richard met him with equal fierceness, and the feuds between France and England were renewed with increased violence.[659] Many of the French and English knights, several of the clergy of the two countries, together with a great multitude of Germans, Italians, and Flemings, waited not for the tardy journey of the crusading monarchs, but passed over into the Holy Land, and joined themselves to Guy of Lusignan, who had now collected the remnants of all the military orders, and with those princes and knights who had escaped the Moslem scimitar, was engaged in besieging Acre. His forces[660] gradually increased till they became immense; and, owing to the skill of those by whom he was accompanied, rather than his own, the camp of Lusignan was fortified in such a manner that no efforts of the Saracens could penetrate its lines. Saladin pitched his tents on the mountains to the south, not long after the Christians had undertaken the siege, and innumerable battles in the open field succeeded, in which neither army gained any material advantage that was not compensated by some following reverse.

The fleet of the Saracens supplied the town,[661] and the fleet of the Christians brought aid to the camp, so that the conflict seemed to be interminable, from the equal zeal and force of the contending parties.

In the mean while, the war between Henry and Philip continued; and, from a personal dispute between Richard Coeur de Lion and the French monarch, had so changed its character, that Richard, accompanied by his brother John, went over to the faction of the enemy, and did homage to the crown of France.[662] Henry, abandoned by his children and the greater part of his nobles, found himself forced to sign an ignominious peace; and after one of the violent fits of passion to which he so often yielded himself, was taken ill, and concluded a long life of vice and crime before the altar of the Lord,[663] which he had once caused to be stained with blood.[664]

Richard and Philip were already in alliance; and no sooner had the new monarch of England ascended the throne, than the preparations for the crusade were resumed with activity. Ample treaties were entered into between the French and English kings; and as the clergy, though willing enough to preach the crusade, were in general unwilling to aid it by the payment of Saladin’s tenth, Richard had recourse to the most arbitrary[665] extortions, to furnish the sums necessary for his enterprise. Philip Augustus, the Count of Flanders, and Richard Coeur de Lion met at Nonancourt, on the confines of Normandy, and engaged mutually to live in peace and defend each other, as true allies, till a period of forty days after their return from Palestine.[666] Richard also published a code of laws or regulations for the government of his troops during the expedition. By these it was enacted, that whoever slew a brother crusader should be tied to the corpse and buried alive; or, if the murder were perpetrated at sea, should be plunged with the dead body into the waves. A man who drew his knife upon another, or struck him so as to produce blood, was destined to have his hand cut off. Other chastisements were instituted for simple blows, abusive language, and blasphemy;[667] and if any one were discovered in committing a robbery, he was sentenced to have his head shaved and to be tarred and feathered. This is, I believe, the first mention in history of that curious naval punishment.

Each of the crusading monarchs now made large donations to abbeys, churches, and religious communities,[668] and performed various acts of grace to bring down the blessing of Heaven upon their enterprise. They took every measure that could be devised for the security and good of their respective realms during their absence, and then proceeded towards Lyons, where, finding that the followers of their camp were becoming somewhat more numerous than was desirable, and remembering the vices and irregularities of the former crusades, they instituted several new laws; among which it was strictly enjoined that no woman should be permitted to accompany either army, except washerwomen, and such as had accomplished fifty years. Here, also, the two kings separated,[669] and Philip, traversing the Alps, soon arrived at Genoa,[670] where he hired vessels to carry him to Messina, the general rendezvous, which place he reached with no other impediment than a severe storm.

Richard, in the mean time, hurried on to Marseilles, where he waited a few days for the fleet which was to have joined him from England; but his impatient spirit could never brook delay, and after a pause of little more than a week, he hired all the vessels he could find, and proceeded to Genoa. Leaving that city he touched at several places on the coast of Italy, and near the mouth of the Tiber was encountered by Octavian, Bishop of Ostia, who demanded various sums, stated to be due to the church of Rome from the English monarch, as fees, on the election of the Bishop of Ely, and the deposition of the Bishop of Bourdeaux. Richard replied by boldly reproaching the prelate with the simoniacal avarice of his church, and sent him indignantly from his presence. In the Gulf of Salernum, the English king was met by his fleet, and soon anchored before Messina, causing all the horns of his armament to blow as he entered the port. The noise was so great, that the inhabitants crowded to the walls, where they beheld the thousand banners of England covering the sea with all the gay and splendid colours of chivalrous blazonry.[671] Richard was fond of such display, and, perhaps, so slight a thing as this first woke that jealousy in the bosom of Philip Augustus which afterward proved ruinous to the crusade. Nevertheless that monarch came down to meet Richard, with Tancred, the usurping King of Sicily, who had every thing to fear from the anger of the hasty sovereign of England. After dispossessing Constantia, the heiress of the crown, Tancred had imprisoned Joan, sister of Richard, the widow of the last king William the Good. He had freed her, it is true, on the news of Richard’s arrival; but the first act of the English monarch[672] was to demand the restitution of his sister’s dowery, and the legacies which had been bequeathed by William of Sicily to Henry II. of England. These together amounted to forty thousand ounces of gold,[673] and for some time Richard’s application was met by nothing but quibbling and evasion.

The best intelligence had hitherto reigned between the French and English, but not so with Richard’s knights and the people of Sicily. The Anglo-Normans were dissolute and reckless, and the Sicilians soon proceeded from squabbling and opposition, to seek bloody revenge. It is probable that both parties were in fault. Every thing at Messina was charged at a most exorbitant price,[674] and the Normans were very apt to take what they could not buy. The Sicilians cheated them, and they plundered the Sicilians, till at length some of the Norman soldiers were killed.[675] Hugh Lebrun, a favourite of Richard, was wounded; and Richard himself, finding the peasantry supported by Tancred in the attack on his soldiers, lost command of his temper, fell upon the people who had come forth from Messina, stormed the walls of the city; and in an inconceivably short time, the banner of the King of England was flying over the capital of Sicily.[676]

Philip Augustus, who had interfered on many occasions to quiet the differences between the Normans and the Sicilians, could not bear to see the English standard on the towers of Messina, and a coolness rose up between the two monarchs from that moment. All angry discussion, however, was removed by the conduct of Richard, which was calm and moderate, far beyond his usual habits. He offered to give up the guard of the city to either the Knights of the Temple or of St. John, till his claims on Tancred had been fairly met. This tranquillized the matter for a time; but Eleonor, Richard’s mother, now arrived in Sicily,[677] bearing with her the beautiful Berengaria, of Navarre. The King of England had been affianced to Alice of France, the sister of Philip; but criminal intercourse, it was supposed, had existed between the French princess and Henry II., and Richard had long meditated breaking off formally an alliance he never intended to fulfil. The sight of Berengaria decided him.[678] Some letters were shown to him by Tancred, King of Sicily, in which Philip Augustus promised aid to the Sicilians in case of their warring with the English. Richard, with the papers in his hand, cast himself on horseback, and galloped to the tent of the French monarch. Philip declared the letters were forged, and that Richard’s anger was a mere pretence to break off a marriage which suited not his taste. War between the two sovereigns seemed inevitable, and how it was averted does not very clearly appear. Probably the higher barons interposed; but at all events the concessions were on the side of Philip, who, by a formal treaty, renounced all pretensions to Richard’s hand, on the part of his sister;[679] confirmed him in all the feoffs he held from the crown of France; and, leaving him and Berengaria to conclude their marriage, he set sail with his fleet for Acre.

The appearance of the French before that place caused great rejoicing among the Christians, for notwithstanding every effort on the part of the assailants the city still held out; and, girt in themselves by the army of Saladin, the scarcity[680] was little less in their camp than in the town. Before the coming of their allies, the crusaders under the walls of Acre had done all that human ingenuity could invent to force the garrison to yield. They had turned the course of the river which supplied the city with fresh water; they had been incessant in their attacks and, during nearly two years, had never relaxed one moment in their endeavours.[681] It was apparent, therefore, that nothing but assault by a large force could carry the fortress, and this the arrival of Philip gave the possibility of attempting. That monarch, however, either from some engagement to that effect, or from the scantiness of the succour he brought, which, according to Boha Eddin, consisted only of six large ships,[682] determined to wait the arrival of Richard Coeur de Lion, contenting himself with battering the walls in the mean while.

The coming of the King of France had spread as much alarm among the Saracens as joy among the Christians; but his inactivity calmed their apprehensions; and the escape of a magnificent white falcon which Philip had brought from Europe, was considered by the infidels as an evil omen for the French monarch. The bird flew into the besieged city, and was thence sent to Saladin, who would not be prevailed upon to part with it, though Philip offered a thousand pieces of gold for his favourite falcon.[683]

Richard remained some time in Sicily, enjoying the idleness and luxury of a delicious climate, and a fertile and beautiful land; but the preaching of a wild enthusiast, called Joachim, together with various celestial phenomena, which the superstition of the age attributed to Divine wrath, awoke the monarch from his dream of pleasure, and after having submitted to an humiliating penance,[684] he set sail for Acre. A tempest soon dispersed his fleet, and three of the vessels were lost upon the rocky shores of Cyprus. The monarch of that island, one of the Comneni of Constantinople, had rendered himself independent of Greece, and had taken the title of Emperor. In the madness of insatiable greediness, he pillaged the crews and passengers of the English vessels stranded on his coast, and refused a refuge to the bride and sister of Richard himself, when driven by the storm into the port of Limisso. At Rhodes[685] the lion-hearted king heard of the disasters of his fleet, and the inhospitality of the Emperor of Cyprus, and no sooner had he gathered together his ships, than he sailed for Limisso, and demanded reparation and apology.

With infinite moderation, the more admirable in the conduct of a violent and irritable monarch, he three times required satisfaction before he proceeded to any act of aggression. At length, finding it not to be obtained but by the sword, he landed on the island, drove the coward Greeks[686] before him, took the ungenerous usurper Isaac, and reduced the whole country to his sway. His wrath had now been roused, and all temper was forgotten: he taxed the unfortunate inhabitants of the country to an enormous extent and then, after having spent some time at Limisso, where he celebrated his marriage with Berengaria, he once more set sail for Acre. In the passage the fleet of the English monarch came suddenly upon a large vessel bearing the arms of the King of France. Something suspicious in the appearance of the ship induced Richard to pursue her, and it was soon discovered that she was filled with Saracen troops.

The attack was instantly ordered;[687] the infidels defended themselves with the greatest bravery; the sea was covered with Greek fire, and a rain of arrows fell upon the decks of the low European galleys from the high sides of the Arabian vessel. But resistance against the whole fleet of the English king was vain; and the emir Jacob, who commanded, ordered the ship to be sunk by cutting through the bottom with hatchets. Before this could be completely accomplished, however, the English and Normans were masters of the vessel, and ere she went down a great part of her cargo was saved. This principally consisted of military stores for the camp of Saladin: and, among other implements of destruction, the English were surprised and horrified to find a number of large earthen vases filled with poisonous reptiles, from the bites of which it was known that the Christians near Acre suffered most dreadfully. Whether these animals were or were not really destined by Saladin as the means of a new and direful mode of warfare, such was the purpose which the Christian monarch[688] attributed to those who carried them; and giving way to his wrath, he ordered all the prisoners to be put to death. Some few were saved, who were afterward ransomed according to the universal custom of the day.[689]

But little time now elapsed ere Richard, with a hundred sail, arrived before the city of Acre, and the shouts of joy that welcomed him made his proud heart beat with more than wonted ardour. All the Chivalry of Europe were upon the sandy plain between Ptolemais and the mountains of Carouba:[690] the Templars, the Hospitallers, the Knights of France, of England, of Germany, of Italy, of Flanders, and of Burgundy. Thousands of banners floated on the wind; and every sort of arms, device, and ensign glittered through the camp. On the inland hills lay the millions of Saladin, with every accessory of eastern pomp and eastern luxury. There, too, was the pride of all the Saracen tribes, called into the field by their great monarch to meet the swarming invasion of the Christians.[691] One wing of the Moslem army was commanded by Malek Adel Saif Eddin,[692] brother of Saladin, and the other by that monarch’s nephew, Modaffer. Through the host were seen banners of green, and black, and yellow; and armour of as many kinds, and of as great magnificence, as that of the Europeans.

Nor was the chivalrous courtesy of the day confined to the Christian camp. In times of truce the adverse nations mingled together in friendship; and at one moment they sent mutual presents, and reciprocated good offices, while at another they met in bloody and impetuous strife. Saladin himself seems to have conceived the highest respect for the character of Richard; and when he was not opposing him in the field, he was always desirous of showing that the Moslems were not to be outdone in generous sentiment by any of the Christian knights. It would be endless to recount all the transactions of the siege of Acre. The spirit of the whole of this crusade (which I could wish to dwell upon more than any thing else) has been already fully, perfectly, and feelingly displayed, in that most beautiful composition, The Talisman; wherein Sir Walter Scott, however he may have altered some historical facts to suit the purposes of fiction, has given a more striking picture of the human mind in that age—of the character of nations as well as individuals—than any dull chronicle of cold events can furnish.

Richard Coeur de Lion, soon after his arrival before Acre, was seized with the fever of the country, and in the attack made upon the town by Philip Augustus the English monarch was not present.[693] Philip murmured highly, and his assault was repulsed from the want of sufficient forces to follow up his first advantage. Richard in his turn attempted to storm the city without the aid of France, and notwithstanding efforts of almost incredible valour, was likewise repelled. Mutual necessity brought some degree of concord; and it was agreed that while one army assailed the walls the other should guard the camp, but still the endeavours of both were ineffectual to take the town by storm; and continual disputes were every day springing up between the two monarchs and the two hosts. Philip strove to seduce the vassals of Richard to follow his banner, as the sovereign of their sovereign, and paid three pieces of gold per month to each of the Norman knights who would join his standard:[694] Richard gave four pieces of gold to all who came over from Philip, and many a French feudatory joined himself to the English king. The siege of Acre still advanced, notwithstanding, less indeed by the presence or efforts of the two sovereigns, than by the simple fact of the city being cut off from all supplies. It had now held out for many months; and for long had endured but little privation from its communication with the sea; but as one article of the first necessity after another became exhausted, that means of receiving provisions was not sufficiently productive or regular for the supply of a great city. Even when ships arrived the town was in a state of scarcity, and a day’s delay brought on a famine. Acre could resist no longer,[695] and after a short truce, which was asked in the hope of assistance from Egypt, it surrendered to the monarchs of France and England, on very rigorous terms. All the Christian prisoners within the town were to be freed, together with one thousand men and two hundred knights, chosen from those that Saladin detained in captivity; two hundred thousand pieces of gold were to be paid, and the true Cross was to be restored to the Christians. Such was the only capitulation granted to the people of Acre, who were also to remain in the hands of the crusaders till the stipulations had been fulfilled by Saladin; and in case the conditions were not accomplished within forty days, the prisoners were left to the disposal of their conquerors.

Saladin neglected to fulfil any of the terms which depended on him; the ransom was not paid; the wood of the Cross was not restored; and Richard[696] cruelly commanded his prisoners to be put to death.[697] After the capture of the city, the Archduke of Austria boldly placed his banner on one of the towers but no sooner was it seen by Richard, than with his own hand he tore it down, and rending it to pieces,[698] trampled it under his feet. The insult was neither forgotten nor unrevenged, though from that moment the banners of the kings[699] only continued to float from the walls of Acre. Thus new dissensions were added to those which had already arisen, and the two monarchs, by taking possession of the whole spoil and dividing it between them, gave high disgust to the rest of the crusaders. Another more tangible cause of animosity soon sprang up. Sybilla, the wife of Guy of Lusignan, through whom alone he possessed the title of King of Jerusalem, died during the siege of Acre, but he still pretended a right to the throne. Conrad of Montferrat, lord of Tyre, had seized upon Isabella, sister of Sybilla, and wife of the weak and cowardly Humphrey de Thoron; and having obtained, by one means or another, a divorce between her and her husband, had married her; on which marriage, he also claimed the empty vanity of the crown. Richard, with the Pisans and the Hospitallers, maintained the cause of Lusignan; Philip Augustus, with the Genoese and the Templars, supported Conrad; and the schism was only healed by Lusignan acknowledging Conrad to be heir to the nominal kingdom, while Conrad allowed Lusignan to retain the title for his life.

Soon after this, the crusade received[700] its deathblow, by the defection of Philip Augustus. No doubt can exist that that monarch had really lost his health since his sojourn in the Holy Land; but as little doubt is there that his chief motive in returning to Europe was his disgust[701] at the overbearing conduct of Richard, and his jealousy at the great superiority of his rival in all military exercises. Philip Augustus was an expert and able general, a brave and distinguished knight; but Richard was the wonder of his day, and what Philip might have admired in an inferior, he could not bear in a fellow-king. He therefore proclaimed aloud his illness, and his intention to return to Europe, most unwisely—as James of Vitry observes—for the interest of the crusade; for Saladin[702] had been so much depressed by the fall of Acre, that beyond all question immense concessions might have been obtained, had the monarchs but made a demonstration of acting in concert. As bound to him by treaties, Richard’s permission was demanded by the King of France. At first Richard exclaimed, with a burst of honest indignation, “Eternal shame on him and on all France, if for any cause he leave the work unfinished!”[703] but he added afterward, “Well, let him go, if his health require it, or if he cannot live without seeing Paris.” With this surly leave, Philip hastened his departure, after having made over to Conrad of Tyre his share in the city of Acre, and having sworn, in the most solemn manner, to respect Richard’s possessions in Europe—an oath which he soon found occasion to break.

The Duke of Burgundy,[704] with ten thousand men, was left behind to support Richard; and that monarch, after repairing the fortifications of Acre, having seen the churches purified, and the Christian religion restored, marched out with considerable force, and took the road by the seaside towards Ascalon. Vessels laden with provisions followed along the shore; but, on the other hand, the Moslems, who had now recovered confidence at the dissensions which they knew reigned among the Christians, pursued the army as it marched, and harassed it by continual attacks.

Richard[705] refrained from any thing like a general engagement, as long as such conduct was possible; but near Azotus he found himself compelled to fight, and he accordingly drew out his men in battle array. Eudes, Duke of Burgundy, commanded the left, and the famous Jacques d’Avesnes the right, of the crusaders, while Richard himself appeared in the centre.

Saladin[706] led the attack against the Christian army, and the right gave way. At the same time the left repulsed the Moslems, and with the usual impetuous courage of the French, who composed it, followed up their success till they were cut off from the main body. Richard advanced to the aid of the Duke of Burgundy, but only so far as to save him from being destroyed. With wonderful coolness he waited till the Saracens had exhausted their arrows, and wearied their horses with rapid evolutions, so that the knights murmured at the unwonted inactivity of their monarch. At length, seeing that Saladin had weakened his left wing to attack the Duke of Burgundy, that the hail of missiles was passed, and that there existed some confusion in the enemy’s[707] lines, the king commanded his knights to charge, and leading them on himself, he with his own hand overthrew all that opposed him. The infidels whom he slew, and the feats that he performed, are almost incredible; but certain it is, that his voice, his eye, his look, brought inspiration to the Christians and dismay to the hearts of the Moslems. The Saracen host fled amain, and Richard remained master of the field, having to mourn few of his distinguished soldiers besides Jacques d’Avesnes who was slain towards the end of the battle.[708]

The road both to Ascalon and Jerusalem was now open to the host of the Cross;[709] but either from treachery, as some have supposed, or from envy, as others have imagined, Richard was continually opposed in the council of war: the operations of the crusaders became vacillating, uncertain, and ill-judged, and the kingdom of Jerusalem was virtually cast away. The army, instead of following its advantages, proceeded to Jaffa,[710] wasted time in fortifying that city, and suffered the Saracens to recover from their panic. Various attacks were soon made upon the Christians; a party of Templars was surrounded by the foe, and would have been cut to pieces, with the Earl of Leicester and some English who had come to their aid, had not Richard, with his lion-heart, rushed, almost unarmed, into the fight; and, scattering the enemy like a whirlwind, delivered his friends from their peril. On another occasion, he had himself nearly been taken prisoner while falconing, and would certainly have fallen into the hands of the Saracens, had not one of his followers, named William de Pratelles,[711] exclaimed, “I am the king!” and thus drawn the attention of the enemy to himself. After this, various treaties[712] were entered into, which ended in nothing, and probably were devised by the Saracens merely for the purpose of gaining time to recruit their forces. It was even proposed that Joan of Sicily, the English monarch’s sister, should be given in marriage to Saphaddin, or Saif Eddin; and that Jerusalem should be yielded to the parties in this strange alliance. All these negotiations, however, terminated as they began, and hostilities were often commenced and suspended, equally without cause. Richard advanced to Ramula, and nothing opposed his proceeding to Jerusalem; but at a council of war it was determined that the army should retire upon Ascalon.[713] This was done, and Ascalon was once more fortified; but here the troops were cut off from supplies, new divisions arose, and many desertions took place. The Duke of Burgundy retreated to Acre; the Genoese and Pisans broke out into open warfare, and one party, supported by Conrad of Montferrat, would have destroyed the other, had not Richard marched to the spot, forced Conrad to withdraw, and re-established peace between the contending nations. Conrad, frustrated in the views he had entertained, rejected all conciliation from Richard, and allied himself with Saladin. That monarch immediately hastened once more to attack the divided army of the Cross;[714] but Conrad was stabbed by two of a class of men called the Assassins,[715] at the moment that Richard, to obtain concord, had consented to his coronation as king of Jerusalem, in opposition to the claim of Guy of Lusignan. The French attributed the death of Conrad to Richard, and all parties flew to arms; but in the midst of this confusion, Henry Count of Champagne came forward, married the widow of Conrad, was proclaimed king of Jerusalem[716] with the consent of all, and the united host once more prepared to march and conquer the kingdom for which they had just been providing a king.

During this time, Richard Coeur de Lion, while waging the war for Jerusalem, was neglecting all his best interests in Europe. John, his brother, was striving for the crown of England, and Philip Augustus was stripping him of his territories in France. Messenger after messenger brought naught but tidings of danger, and pressing solicitations for his return.

Still Richard advanced towards Jerusalem,[717] but his force was too small to attempt a long-protracted siege. He found himself far from resources, and in a country where supplies could be obtained but with the greatest difficulty.[718] The marches before him were barren and hot; little water was to be procured and at Bethlehem a council of twenty persons was appointed to inquire into the possibility of proceeding. Certain information was received that the Turks had destroyed all the wells and cisterns round the Holy City, and it was determined to abandon the enterprise. Richard felt the disappointment with all the bitterness of broken hope and crushed ambition. He was led to a hill from whence he could behold Jerusalem; but the sight and its memories were too much, and, covering his eyes with his shield,[719] the warrior monarch turned away with a swelling heart to concert measures for gaining something, at all events, to compensate the loss of Jerusalem. But discord was in the bosom of the crusade; the soldiers murmured,[720] the chiefs rebelled, and the only thing that could save the army was immediate retreat. Such, then, after many plans had been proposed and rejected, was the ultimate step. The great body of the forces, with Richard and the Duke of Burgundy, fell back upon Acre; but a smaller part threw itself into Jaffa; and Saladin, recovering his energies as the crusaders lost theirs, collected his power and prepared to reap the fruits of their disunion. The hope of saving the Holy Land was now gone, and Richard determined to abandon an endeavour which jealousies and treacheries had rendered infeasible; and, returning to Europe, to give his thoughts to the consolidation and security of his own dominions. Before he set out, however, the news reached him that Saladin had attacked Jaffa with immense forces; and that the only hope of the garrison was in aid from him.[721] Sending the bulk of the army by land, he took advantage of a favourable wind, and set sail with a very small retinue for the besieged city. When he arrived at Jaffa, he perceived that the gates were already in the hands of the Saracens, and that the Christians were fighting to the last, to sell their lives dearly. “When King Richard found that the place was taken,” to use the words of Bernard the Treasurer, “he sprang on shore, with his shield round his neck, and his Danish axe in his hand, retook the castle, slew the Saracens that were within the walls, and drove those that were without back to their camp, where he halted on a little mound—he and his men. Saladin asked his troops why they fled; to which they replied, that the King of England had come to Jaffa, had slain much people, and retaken the town. Then Saladin asked, ‘Where is he?’ And they replied, ‘There, sire, upon that hillock with his men.’ ‘What!’ cried Saladin, ‘the king on foot among his servants! This is not as it should be.’ And Saladin sent him a horse,[722] charging the messenger to say, that such a man ought not to remain on foot in so great danger.”

The attempts of the Saracens were vain to recover the position they had lost, and their terror at the tremendous name of Richard made that name a host. This victory again placed the King of England in a commanding situation, and he took advantage of it to demand peace. Saladin gladly met his advances. A treaty was entered into, and a truce was concluded for three years and eight months, during which period the Christians were to enjoy the liberty of visiting Jerusalem, as pilgrims, exempt from all grievance. Tyre and Jaffa, with the whole district between them, were yielded to the Latins, who, on their part, agreed to demolish the fortifications of Ascalon. The troops of the Cross were permitted to resort as palmers to Jerusalem, where the sultaun received and treated them with courteous hospitality. Richard would not visit the city he could not capture; but the Bishop of Salisbury was entertained in the sultaun’s own palace, and obtained from the generous Saracen leave to establish three societies of Latin priests, in Jerusalem, in Bethlehem, and in Nazareth. Various other splendid acts of kingly magnanimity closed Saladin’s communication with the crusaders.

On the 25th of October, A. D. 1192, Richard set sail for Europe. The fruits of his crusade were but small, as far as the recovery of the Holy Land was concerned; but in his own person he acquired a degree of military glory that enmity could not wrest from him, and ages have not been able to dim.

He had many faults and many failings; and his own pride contributed as much as the jealousy of his enemies to create disunion among the allies, and frustrate the object of the expedition. But he had also to contend with many wrongs and difficulties, and possessed many bright and noble qualities. He carried the heart of a lion to his grave;[723] and for centuries after the women of Palestine scared their children with his name.[724]