CHAPTER XXXIII.
ACRE
AT the time when King Louis, sad but unsubdued, 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 Mediterranean, was a place of great strength, and renowned throughout Christendom for riches and splendour. For a long period previous to its destruction 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 rather tempting to men bent on conquest. But Acre had the advantage of being strongly fortified. On the 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 finding 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 Mediterranean. 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 resplendent, 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 desponding 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 warehouses were stored with merchandise; the market-place was lively with bustle and excitement; monks, sailors, pirates, pilgrims, merchants, and warriors appeared in the streets; the squares and public places were screened from the heat by silken coverings; 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 manners, but unfortunately 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 desponding 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 plight is not enviable. But it is not desperate. Still I am 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 circumstances as to turn matters to our advantage.'
CHAPTER XXXIV.
A RESCUE
WALTER 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 gratitude; 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 Englishmen 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 astonished to find that they were separated by so wide a gulf, and the Espec pride made him almost disdainful. 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 undertaken 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; 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 walls, 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 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. Nevertheless, 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 performed, and especially those wrought by the young knight of Genoa.
Meanwhile Bisset and Walter Espec, while skirmishing with the Saracens, skirted their lines and made a 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!' said Bisset, staring in amaze, 'what is this 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 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 being 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, however, 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 pursuit, 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 Saracenic tongue that if he 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 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 so 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 his 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 impenetrable. They were the knights of the Order of St. Katherine of Mount Sinai, an Order instituted in honour of that saint in 1063, and bearing on their snowy mantles the instruments by which she suffered martyrdom – the half were 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 time to be at the Castle of Kakhow; and, as if to provoke 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 comrades.
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 had charge of the damsel alone remaining on horseback, and tenaciously 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 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 his equestrian skill, he soon found that his pursuer was gaining on him rapidly, and turned to take the chance of an encounter. Fearful 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 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 deriving from this adventure some benefit more substantial 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 Constantinople?'
Walter mused, but did not answer.
CHAPTER XXXV.
MISSION TO BAGDAD
AFTER 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 perplexity 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 longer be found. Every day the confusion increased and the troubles 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 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 Chegger 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 Europe and Asia. Unfortunately for Koutouz, however, 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 bystanders.
The Mameluke chief was Bibars Bendocdar; and, having been proclaimed as successor to the man he had murdered, he ascended the throne, and, as sultan 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 ambassadors 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 perplexed, 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 disposed 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 beyond the seas, but take care how you return; no knight, either rich or poor, can come back without shame, if he leaves behind him, in the hands of the Saracens, any of the common people who leave home in his company." Now,' added the seneschal, 'these unhappy captives were in the service of the king, as well as the service of God, and never can they escape from captivity if the king should abandon them.'
On hearing this Louis was more perplexed than ever. In his anxiety, however, he bethought him of the caliph, and resolved, great as was the distance, to send ambassadors to Bagdad, where reigned Musteazem 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 witnessed 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 ambassadors 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 Espec, now, at length, hopeful of ascertaining something about his brother's fate.
It was not without encountering considerable danger, and having to endure much fatigue, that the Templar and the English knight, under the guidance of Beltran the renegade, who had opportunely appeared at Acre, and whom Bisset had pressed into the 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 caliph 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 somewhat 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 ac