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4 
 
 
 
BLONFEL AND RICHARD. 
 
 Pave 23* 
 

PREFACE. 
 
 This volume is intended (should the undertaking meet witc 
 the approbation of the public) as the first of a series, to bo pre- 
 pared by different gentlemen, and designed more particularly 
 for the instruction and improvement of the young. 
 
 In its preparation, the following works have been con- 
 sulted : Hume's History of England ; Lingard's ; Knight's 
 Pictorial History; Aytoun's Life and Times of Richard 
 the First; the old romance, the Gests of Richard Coeur de 
 Lion ; and the German History of the Assassins, by Von Ham- 
 mer. The object of the author has been to make his work as 
 personally biographical as possible, and to avoid the details of 
 general history, except when they directly illustrated the life 
 and character of Richard. The reader will find the adventures 
 of the Lion-Hearted King sufficiently wondrous, though au- 
 thentically recorded, to justify their being chronicled in a 
 series of " Romantic Biographies." 
 
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 CHAPTER I. 
 
 liTO braver man ever sat upon a throne than Richard 
 ±\ the First of England, as the history of his 
 adventurous life we are about to relate will show. 
 He was called Coeur de Lion, the Lion-hearted King, 
 in consequence of his great spirit and courage. He 
 was a man well suited to the times in which he lived, 
 when war was the occupation of mankind, and per- 
 sonal courage was thought the highest virtue. 
 
 Richard was born seven hundred years ago. He 
 was the third son of Henry the Second, one of 
 England's greatest kings. His father had eight 
 children by Queen Eleanor : William, who died 
 while an infant; Henry ; Richard, the subject of our 
 history ; Geoffrey ; John, afterwards king ; and three 
 daughters. Henry the Second, though a great mon- 
 arch, and in many respects a good man, was a bad 
 husband, and formed an improper alliance with Rosa- 
 mond de Clifford, by whom he had also several child 
 ren. This was the " fair Rosamond," of whom the 
 
14 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 romantic story is told of her having been shut up in a 
 labyrinth, which was called Rosamond's Bower, to 
 keep her safe from the jealous rage of Eleanor, who 
 was the only true wife of King Henry. The story runs 
 that this " bower" was so ingeniously contrived, with 
 its winding paths and complicated turnings, that no one 
 could find his way, in or out, without being provided 
 with some clue to its intricacy. Eleanor was very 
 jealous of the fair Rosamond, who was beautiful be- 
 yond compare, and was wickedly loved by the 
 ardent king, and the queen hated her with a deadly 
 hatred. She accordingly determined to destroy her 
 rival in the affections of her husband, and hit upon an 
 ingenious contrivance to pounce upon Rosamond in 
 her cage, (for it was but a cage, though a garden, 
 rich with verdure and beautiful with flowers,) where 
 Henry had shut her up, to secure her from the 
 jealousy of his wife. Eleanor provided herself one 
 day with a bowl of deadly poison and a long clew 
 of silken thread, and entered the bower in search of 
 her victim. She dropped the clew, holding to one 
 end as she proceeded, and it unravelled at every step 
 she took. She thus wound her way through the 
 winding passage and many turnings of the labyrinth, 
 the thread behind her upon the ground showing 
 where she had already been. She never retraced 
 her steps without her knowledge, and could tell at 
 every moment whether she was making progress or 
 not ; and thus, bearing the fatal poison and trailing 
 
Married in Infancy. 15 
 
 the thread after her, she wound her way, like a 
 venomous serpent, to the unsuspecting Rosamond. 
 The jealous queen, with a dagger to the poor lady's 
 heart and the howl of poison to her lips, forced the 
 fair Rosamond to drink the deadly draught to its 
 dregs. This interesting story of the labyrinth is only 
 a romance, but it is one of the prettiest connected 
 with English history, and though a fiction, has its 
 use, as an illustration of the truth. There was no 
 bower, with winding passages and endless turnings ; 
 but there was a fair Rosamond, beloved by King 
 Henry, and hated by his wife Eleanor ; but the lat- 
 ter, though jealous — for being which, poor woman, 
 her wicked husband had given her too much oc- 
 casion — never allowed her passion to get so much the 
 better of her as to murder her rival, or even, so far 
 as is known, to desire to do so. 
 
 Of the boyhood of Richard we know hardly any 
 thing. The only fact recorded of it is, curiously 
 enough, his betrothal, at the early age of twelve, to 
 Alice or Adelais, daughter of Louis VII., King of 
 France. For a boy at this early age to be engaged 
 to be married seems very strange. Strange, how- 
 ever, as it may appear, it was no uncommon thing 
 for princes and princesses to be affianced by their 
 parents while children, or even infants. The eldest 
 brother of Richard, Prince Henry, was betrothed to 
 a French princess while they were both infants in 
 arms ; and more than this, the father of the prince 
 
16 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 was in so much haste to have the matter settled, that 
 he proposed that the ceremony of marriage between 
 the royal babes should be performed at once. Mar- 
 riage is considered by royal persons an affair of state 
 only, and as it is not the happiness of the husband 
 and wife, but the gratification of the ambition of 
 princes which is sought, royal match-making is gene- 
 rally guided by policy, and not by love. So King 
 Henry of England and Louis VII. of France only 
 thought of their own advantage when they affianced 
 their children, who, in the innocence of infancy, plot- 
 ted no guile in the present, and looked to no conse- 
 quences in the future. 
 
 The early English kings, subsequent to the Norman 
 conquest, held large territories in France, in allegiance 
 to the kings of that country. Henry the Second was 
 a very large holder, through his own personal in- 
 terest and that of his wife, and as possessor of the 
 crown of England and Normandy. These rights, 
 held by an English king on French soil, were the 
 cause of constant contention between King Henry 
 and Louis of France. The chief object of the alliance 
 by marriage, between the English and French crowns, 
 was to reconcile these discords, of which both for a 
 while seemed tired. The French king, in consequence 
 of the betrothal of his daughters with the English 
 princes, prevailed upon the king of England to yield 
 up to Prince Henry, the eldest, the fair provinces of 
 Anjou and Maine, and to Richard the rich possession 
 
Prince Henry's Ambition. 17 
 
 of Aquitaine. The French king was wily enough to 
 insist upon the princes holding their French posses- 
 sions directly from him, to which the English king 
 unwisely assented. Though Henry, in his wicked 
 love for the fair Rosamond, showed himself a bad 
 husband, he was a very kind and generous father to 
 the children of his wife Eleanor. It was from the 
 fullness of his paternal heart that he bestowed upon 
 his children the rich bounty of some of the fairest 
 portions of the French dominions. He was outwitted 
 by the French king in the stipulation that the princes 
 should do allegiance to the latter for their possessions 
 in France. It seems clear that Louis was more 
 guided by a secret state policy, and Henry by a 
 frank, paternal love, in this arrangement, which 
 turned out, as the sequel will prove, greatly to the 
 disadvantage of the king of England. 
 
 The eldest son of Henry the Second, Prince Henry, 
 was an aspiring youth, and not satisfied with the in- 
 dulgence of his father, as shown by his generous gifts 
 of two noble provinces in France, insisted upon 
 further possessions, and had the unparalleled auda- 
 city to ask for the whole of Normandy, or the -king- 
 dom of England itself. His father had allowed him, 
 as he was his eldest son and heir, to be crowned, and 
 now the latter made that indulgent concession a 
 ground for his inordinate claim, pretending that it 
 was beneath the dignity of a crowned head to bow in 
 submission as a subject, Prince Henry was young, 
 
 2 
 
18 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 and though spirited and brave, he was easily influ- 
 enced where his vanity might be worked upon ; and 
 there is no doubt that the French king, availing him- 
 self of this weakness, induced the young prince, to 
 which he was easily led by his vain love of power, 
 to make this demand upon his father. King Henry 
 refused this outrageous recraest at once, and being 
 greatly incensed, accused his son of ingratitude. 
 The prince then abruptly left his father, whose court 
 was in Normandy, and fled to the court of Louis 
 VII. In spite of a letter from King Henry to the 
 latter, in which the French king was urged not to 
 countenance a son in the unholy disobedience to his 
 father, the French king was wicked and cruel enough 
 to write back to that father, justifying the ingratitude 
 of the child, and declaring that his son had a right to 
 the English throne, and he (Louis VII.) would sus- 
 tain it. The French king thus boldly announced this 
 wicked outrage upon the rights of a royal brother, 
 and his concurrence in the awful wickedness of a son 
 in open rebellion against his father. King Henry 
 was dreadfully afflicted by the ingratitude and willful 
 disobedience of his child ; and how much greater 
 must have been the poignancy of his grief when he 
 learned that his wife Eleanor and his two younger 
 sons, Richard and Geoffrey, had also fled his king- 
 dom, to join his enemy, the king of France. The 
 shock would have broken the heart of an equally 
 loving father, but less energetic king. The sons sue- 
 
Sons Against Father. 19 
 
 ceecled in escaping the active pursuit of their royal 
 father ; but the queen, who had attempted flight in 
 the disguise of a man, was overtaken and lodged in 
 prison, where she suffered the long captivity of 
 fifteen years. Richard was only fifteen years of age 
 at this time, and it is hardly fair to hold him respon- 
 sible for this audacious disobedience to his father's 
 will, nor can it be deemed very unnatural that he 
 should have yielded to his mother's influence. The 
 queen had been long enraged with her royal husband, 
 in consequence of his devotion to the fair Rosamond, 
 and feeling deeply the wrong that she had suffered, 
 was determined to revenge herself. She accordingly 
 instigated her children to this rebellion against the 
 king, and connived with Louis of France in this 
 attempt to dismember the dominion of her husband. 
 The queen, moreover, had brought with her as her 
 dower seven provinces, and would have governed them 
 herself, but as King Henry would brook no division 
 of his power, she was desirous of securing to her 
 children what she failed to obtain for herself. The 
 English king strove with all his might to avoid the 
 terrible emergency of being forced into open conflict 
 with his own children, and accordingly sent an am- 
 bassador to the French king, with the purpose of 
 coming to a friendly arrangement. All his overtures, 
 which were evidently dictated by a father's heart, 
 were flatly rejected. Moreover, on Easter-day, in the 
 year 1173, Louis convened a great assembly of the 
 
20 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 barons of France, at which Prince Henry was present, 
 together with Philip, Earl of Flanders, and William 
 the Lion, King of Scotland. These all pledged them- 
 selves by a solemn oath to aid the English prince in 
 prosecuting what was termed his rights, which meant 
 waging an unjust war against his father, Henry the 
 Second ; while the son engaged himself never to agree 
 to peace without the consent of France. Prince 
 Henry justified his unnatural conduct in thus taking 
 arms against his father, on the score of religion. Pie 
 hypocritically pretended that King Henry was wrath- 
 ful towards him for having done reverence to the 
 tomb of Thomas a Beckct, who since his murder had 
 been put high upon the list of the saints of the Church. 
 '• I fear not," said the youthful hypocrite, " to offend 
 a father when the cause of Christ is concerned." He 
 knew very well that his father was guiltless, beyond 
 having uttered a hasty word, of the murder of the 
 pestilent Archbishop of Canterbury ; and in pretend- 
 ing that in revenging his death he was doing violence 
 to his father's wishes, he was falsely accusing his 
 parent of an impiety of which he Avas innocent. 
 
 Henry, whose spirit and enterprise were equal to 
 any emergency, prepared to make head against the 
 formidable conspiracy arrayed against him, and en- 
 rolled twenty thousand of the men of Brabant, who 
 were always ready to serve any one who paid them. 
 Louis of France, with the young English prince, laid 
 siege to Vemeuil, and reduced it by famine, and 
 
The Conference. 21 
 
 when the English king had reached it, ready to re- 
 lieve his subjects, he found it a prey to the flames. 
 He, however, attacked the rear-guard of the French 
 and routed them, and overcame a numerous body of 
 insurgents, who had become possessed of the town 
 of Dol. This success led to a conference near Gisors 
 which was held in a plain between the latter place and 
 Trie, beneath the wide-spreading shade of an ancient 
 elm, a place where the French kings and Norman 
 dukes were wont to hold parleys for truce or peace. 
 The English king showed his usual parental generosity 
 by offering to Henry and Richard half the revenues 
 of the territories they demanded, together with a 
 number of castles, while to Geoffrey, the youngest, 
 he promised the estates of Earl Caran in Bretagne. 
 The young princes, if they had been allowed to have 
 acted according to the natural dictates of their hearts, 
 would have gratefully accepted these generous offers ; 
 but the French king, who had his own purposes to 
 serve, interfered and prevented the filial instincts of 
 the royal children, while the Earl of Leicester, a 
 rebel, insulting his lord and master, King Henry, to 
 his teeth, drew his sword and threatened to kill him. 
 The conference then dissolved in turmoil and con- 
 fusion. 
 
 This rupture led to a continuance of hostilities, 
 with a father arrayed on one side and his rebellious 
 sons, encouraged by the wily policy of King Louis, 
 on the other. 
 
22 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Prince Richard, who was now about seventeen 
 years old, commenced his military career, sad to re- 
 late, by taking up arms in open rebellion against his 
 royal father. Richard headed a formidable insur- 
 rection in the French provinces of Poictou and Aqui- 
 taine. King Henry, with Ins accustomed vigour, 
 marched against the rebels, took the town of Saintes 
 and the formidable fortress of Tailleburg, and par- 
 tially quieted the country. 
 
 Another success on the part of the English king, 
 before the city of Rouen, the capital of Normandy, 
 which was besieged by Louis of France and King 
 Henry's sons, brought the enemy to a parley. Pro- 
 positions for peace were offered, to which the princes 
 Henry and Geoffrey were ready to assent, birt which 
 their hot-headed, rebellious brother, Richard, fiercely 
 rejected. His blood and spirit were stirred by his 
 first experience of the savage delights of battle, and 
 he longed to continue the conflict. The rash youth 
 therefore persisted in his rebellion, but in spite of 
 the aid of the restless barons of his province of Aqui- 
 taine, was forced to yield castle after castle to the 
 energetic warfare of King Henry, and was fain to 
 come to terms at the end of six weeks. The father 
 was now at peace with his children, and with his 
 usual generosity and fatherly kindness bestowed upon 
 them the most liberal gifts of territory, estates, 
 castles, and money. To his son Richard he gave 
 two castles in Poictou, and half the revenue of its 
 
Reconciliation. 23 
 
 earldom. To his other sons he made equally liberal 
 presents. The boys now professed to be perfectly 
 satisfied, and promised hereafter to love, honor, and 
 ohej their father. It was, however, in spite of this 
 generosity of gifts on the one side, and liberality of 
 promises on the other, not many weeks before the 
 eldest son was ready to pick a quarrel with his father ; 
 but it did not fortunately lead to any serious conse- 
 quences, and the two were again on such affectionate, 
 terms that, according to an old writer, they not only 
 fed at the same table, but slept in the same bed. 
 
 Henry now enjoyed an interval of peace for 
 eight years, a long time for those warlike days. The 
 king's restless disposition and active spirit would not, 
 however, allow him to remain at rest. He travelled 
 rapidly from one part of his kingdom to another, 
 from Normandy to England and back again, direct- 
 ing his energies to the administration of every de- 
 partment of his dominions. Old Peter of Blois, an 
 active, spirited man himself, a great traveller, who 
 had scaled the mountains of the Alps, amid storms 
 and avalanches, and was always on the alert, at the 
 bidding of King Henry, to go from one end of the 
 world to the other, was perfectly astounded at the 
 restless activity of his master, as appears in a letter 
 addressed to King Henry. Peter of Blois had been 
 on a mission to King Louis, and wished to report the 
 result to King Henry ; but not being able to find 
 him, writes, that " he had been hunting after him, up 
 
24 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 and down, all over England, but in vain, and that 
 when Solomon set down four things as too hard to 
 discover, he ought to have added a fifth, and that was 
 the path of the king of England." And King Louis 
 said of him : " The king of England neither rides on 
 land nor sails on water, hut flies through the air like 
 a bird. In a moment he flies from Ireland to Eng- 
 land — in another from England into France." 
 
 During these piping times of peace, King Henry's 
 children lived mostly in France, amusing themselves, 
 as the young nobles in those days were wont, with 
 the mimic war of the tournament. Tilts and jousts 
 succeeded each other in rapid succession, and none 
 were more conspicuous for their skill in these 
 knightly accomplishments than the youthful princes. 
 Kichard, who was remarkably tall, vigorous, and 
 active for his age, and of indomitable courage, shone 
 above all his noble competitors. The prowess of 
 these princes was the theme of the song of the 
 minstrels, who travelled from castle to castle, relat- 
 ing in verse the deeds and the renown of the noble 
 and brave. King Henry always listened with delight 
 to the minstrel's song, which, as it recorded passing 
 events, may be considered to have been a kind of 
 newspaper, done in verse, which was circulated from 
 court to court and castle to castle, very much as the 
 morning papers are dropped at our doors in these 
 matter-of-fact days. King Henry would probably 
 have been a great newspaper reader if he had lived 
 
Renewed Discord. 25 
 
 in our time, for his mind was of that active kind that 
 it was not contented to remain ignorant of any thing 
 that was stirring. His affection as a father also 
 made him a delighted listener to the minstrel's song, 
 for the burthen of it was often the knightly deeds of 
 his own spirited children. 
 
 Richard was the first to disturb this family har- 
 mony by sounding the discordant note of war. On 
 this occasion it was, however, against his brothers, 
 and not his father, that the prince took up arms. The 
 king had called upon Richard to do homage to his 
 elder brother, Henry, for the duchy of Acmitaine. 
 This he refused to do, and the consequence was that 
 Prince Henry, allying himself with his younger 
 brother, Geoffrey, marched an army into Aquitaine, 
 to compel Richard to obedience. The father hastened 
 to prevent this unnatural conflict, and succeeded so 
 far in conciliating the brothers that they met and 
 promised, in presence of King Henry, to live together 
 as brothers should. Concord, however, was always 
 of short duration in that royal family, and it was 
 openly confessed by its members that they could not 
 live in harmony. Geoffrey was sinful and irreverent 
 enough to declare that the only possible bond of 
 agreement among the children was opposition to the 
 father. Prince Richard, referring to some early tra- 
 ditions (which superstition connected with diabolical 
 agency) of the Plantagenet family, to which he be- 
 longed, used to say, " it was not astonishing that he 
 
26 The Lion-Hear ted King. 
 
 and his brothers, issuing from such a stock, should be 
 so fierce and lawless, for it was quite natural that 
 what came from the devil should go to the devil." 
 
 Aquiiaine and Poictou, which were destined for the 
 inheritance of Richard, and of which he enjoyed in 
 part the rule and revenues, were a portion of the 
 dominions brought by Queen Eleanor as her dower 
 to King Henry. The people of these provinces were 
 devoted to their mistress ; they beheld in her the 
 representative of their old princely stock ; she was 
 their chieftain, and nothing could alienate the attach- 
 ment of those ardent and poetical people from the 
 traditional associations connected with the descendant 
 of their great chiefs. The imprisonment of Queen 
 Eleanor by her husband was of course bitterly grieved 
 at by her people, and they fiercely sought to revenge 
 this injury to their beloved mistress, and insult to 
 their loyalty. All means were considered by them 
 just in retribution of this wrong, and they did not 
 hesitate even to stir up disaffection in the family of 
 the king of England, that they might array the sons 
 against the father, in order to revenge the mother 
 and the wrongs of Poictou and Aquitaine. 
 
 The troubadours sang, in mingled strains of sorrow 
 and anger, the captivity of Eleanor. " Thou wast 
 carried from thine own land" is the lament of one of 
 those early poets, " and transported to a land thou 
 knowest not of. Thou wast brought" up in all abund- 
 ance and delicacy, and in a royal liberty, living in 
 
His FHi a l Love. 27 
 
 the lap of riches, enjoying the sports of thy maidens 
 and their pleasant songs, to the soft accomjjaniment 
 of the lute and tabor ; and now thou weopest and 
 Iamentest, consuming thy days in grief. Eeturn, 
 poor prisoner, return to thy faithful cities ! "Where 
 is now thy court ? Where are thy young com- 
 panions 1 Where thy counsellors V And then the 
 poet rises from these low sobbing words of mourn- 
 ing and lament to high, inspiriting trumpet-tones of 
 war and revenge. " Thou criest, and no one hears 
 thee, for the northern king keeps thee shut up like a 
 besieged town ; but still cry aloud, and tire not of 
 crying. Raise thy voice like a trumpet, that thy 
 sons may hear thee ; for the day is at hand when thy 
 sons shall deliver thee, and when thou shalt see thy 
 native land again. "Woe to the traitors that are in 
 Aquitaine, for the day of vengeance is near. Fly 
 before the face of bold Richard, Duke of Aquitaine, 
 for he will overthrow the vain-glorious, break their 
 chariots and those that ride in them. Yea, he will 
 annihilate all who oppose, from the greatest to the 
 least !" 
 
 Richard loved his mother with all the warmth of 
 an affectionate son, and deeply felt her wrongs. "We 
 may thus find some excuse for him, in his rebellion 
 against his father, as he was led to believe that lie 
 was fulfilling his duty to one parent while openly 
 failing in that toward the other. The naturally tur- 
 oulent disposition of the family had something to do 
 
28 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 with these family quarrels ; but the chief cause may 
 be found in the unfortunate estrangement between 
 the king and queen. These disagreements seemed 
 never destined to cease. On one occasion, after a 
 lengthened conflict, when Geoffrey was alone in arms 
 against his father, an appointment was made for the 
 purpose of conciliation. Limoges was the place 
 selected for the meeting. King Henry, in the full 
 confidence of a fiither's love, rode to the gates of the 
 city, and was repulsed with a shower of arrows, some 
 of which pierced his- armor and wounded a knight at 
 his side. This looked treacherous, but the king was 
 satisfied by the explanation that it was a mistake, 
 and he was promised free entrance to the town. He 
 accordingly entered, and met his son in the centre of 
 the market-place, where he was again saluted with a 
 discharge of arrows, one of which wounded the horse 
 he rode, in the head. The king was overcome, and 
 weeping bitterly, and taking the arrow, presented it 
 to his son Geoffrey, and sobbed out, in tones of agoniz- 
 ing grief, " O son ! what hath thy unhappy father 
 done to deserve that thou shouldest make him a mark 
 for thine arrows ?" This wicked attempt to kill the 
 king has been charged upon the son, although it is 
 more natural or humane to suppose that he did not 
 connive at it, but that it was done at the order of 
 some one of the fierce barons of Aquitaine unknown 
 to Geoffrey. 
 
 Soon after this, the eldest son of the king, Prince 
 
Death of Prince Henry. 29 
 
 Henry, was taken dangerously ill at Chateau Martel, 
 near Limoges. He sent for his father to visit him, 
 that he might forgive him, as he "believed himself on 
 the bed of death. The father was eager to hasten to 
 his dying child, but his courtiers prevented him ; 
 believing that this sickness was a mere pretense — a 
 trap set to inveigle the king into the power of his 
 enemies. Henry, however, sent the Archbishop of 
 Bordeaux to his son at once, and taking a ring from 
 his finger, ordered the prelate to give it to his son as 
 a token of his forgiveness. Shortly after, a messen- 
 ger arrived, announcing the death of the prince. 
 He was twenty-seven years old when he died. An 
 early death, says an old historian, if you consider his 
 age, but much too late a one if you regard his acts. 
 His life was spent in violent disobedience to his father, 
 and the young man, on his death-bed, felt all the 
 horrors of remorse for his wicked conduct. King 
 Henry's messenger, the archbishop, had arrived in 
 time to assure him of his father's forgiveness, and 
 administer the last rites of religion. The prince 
 pressed, in the agonies of death, his father's ring to 
 his fevered lips, and kissed this memorial of a parent's 
 forgiveness with all the devotion of a penitent son. 
 His dying words were of confession, remorse, and 
 repentance. He openly acknowledged his undutiful- 
 ness and the crimes of his wicked career, and in 
 hopeless penance for his sins ordered his helpless, 
 dying body to be dragged by a rope from his couch to 
 
30 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 a "bed of ashes, that he might suffer the last agonies 
 of death in. humiliation. 
 
 His father was greatly moved when he learned 
 that his eldest son was no more; but his deep sorrow 
 as a bereaved parent did not weaken his sense of 
 duty as a king. The very day after the funeral he 
 was up in arms, and attacked, with unabated vigor, 
 the rebels, to whose machinations he was disposed to 
 attribute his son's rebellion. Limoges was taken by 
 assault, castle after castle was stormed and taken, 
 and the ringleaders captured. Bertrand de Blois, a 
 noble of Aquitaine, a man of great courage and 
 ability, was the chief of the captives. This baron 
 was a man of high accomplishments for the age in 
 which he lived, and was not only a gallant knight, hut 
 a man of varied accomplishments, and a poet withal. 
 His seductive maimers were such that few could 
 resist their influence, and it was supposed that he had 
 exercised his irresistible power upon the young 
 princes and excited them to rebellion. " He must 
 surely die !" said King Henry, when De Blois was 
 dragged a captive into his presence. Taunting him 
 with his boasted wit, which was said never to fail, the 
 king said, " I think thou has lost thy wits." " Yes, 
 sire," replied Bertrand, in a tone of deep sorrow, 
 " I lost them the day the valiant young king died." 
 This brought up the memory of his lost child, and 
 completely overcame the father's equanimity; he 
 burst into tears and nearly swooned. On recovering, 
 
Reconciliation, of Royal Family. 31 
 
 his anger had gone, and. his heart was softened to 
 mercy. " Sir Bertrand," said he, " Sir Bertrand, 
 thou mightest well lose thy wits because of my son, 
 for he loved thee more than any other man on earth ; 
 and I, for love of him, give thee thy life, thy pro- 
 perty, thy castle." 
 
 After the death of Prince Henry, Geoffrey asked 
 his father's pardon, which the king's generous heart 
 readily granted. The family were now, for a time, 
 all reconciled, and poor Eleanor, the queen, was 
 released from prison,- for a moment, that she might 
 be present to witness the solemnization of this rare 
 union of the kmg's discordant household. John, too, 
 the youngest of the princes, whose youth, thus far, 
 had saved him from the sin of rebellion, was also 
 present. Geoffrey, however, soon forgot his pro- 
 mises, and was again in arms against his father, until 
 his unnatural and violent career was brought to an 
 appropriate close by his being thrown from his horse 
 while engaged in a tournament, and trampled to 
 death. 
 
 Louis VII. of France was now dead, and had been 
 6ucceeded by his son, Philip II., a young and spirited 
 prince. He had his father's ambition to weaken the 
 power and bend the pride of England, but had more 
 than his father's capacity to cope with the brave and 
 able Henry. Philip made a great show of honor 
 to the memory of the wicked Geoffrey, and great was 
 
32 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 the pomp and display of the funereal ceremonies that 
 the French king exhibited on the occasion. 
 
 King Philip affected great love for Prince Richard, 
 and accordingly invited him to the French court, 
 where such was the intimacy of these young princes, 
 that they eat at the same table, say the old chroni- 
 clers, and out of the same dish by day, and slept in the 
 same bed by night. The purpose of this affected 
 love, on the part of the French king, was very clear. 
 He strove to weaken the power of King Henry, by 
 exciting the son to oppose his father. The English 
 king shrewdly suspected the design and sent for 
 Richard, who repeatedly answered that he was com- 
 ing, while he yet lingered. He at last left the French 
 court, not to fly to the embraces of his father, but, 
 robber-like, to seize a treasure, and to excite the 
 people of Aquitaine to insurrection. He failed, how- 
 ever, in his unholy attempt, and was forced to sue for 
 his father's forgiveness. The king, who had learned 
 by sad experience to distrust his son's promises of 
 amendment, forced him, on this occasion, to confirm 
 his word by a solemn oath, on a copy of the Holy 
 Evangelists, in the presence of an imposing conclave, 
 lay and clerical. 
 
 This, however, was oidy a temporary lull of the 
 domestic war, which was incessantly carried on 
 between King Henry and his unruly family. The 
 hot-headed Richard could neither-quell his fiery tern- 
 
Failure of Negotiation. 33 
 
 per, nor subject his restless, independent spirit to the 
 will of his father. The young French king, Philip, 
 was ready, too, for his own purposes of state policy, 
 to encourage the untamed prince in his willful oppo- 
 sition to the king of England. Another conference 
 was held beneath the famous elm-tree, at Gisors, in 
 France. Both kings were there, with the impetuous 
 .Richard ; but whatever might have been the peaceful 
 designs of the royal parties, nothing but discord and 
 angry feeling were the result. The young king of 
 France lost all self-command, and swearing by the 
 saints, that as they could not agree, no more parleys 
 should be held under the famous elm, in a rage 
 he cut it down. 
 
 Richard, as has been already stated, had been 
 affianced at the early age of twelve, to Adelais or 
 Alice, the daughter of Louis VII., and sister of King 
 Philip. She had been, ever since, placed under the 
 guardianship of King Henry, who seemed resolved 
 not to yield her up, in spite of the ei treaties and 
 threats of his son Richard. The young people had 
 now reached the proper age for marriage. The 
 prince naturally claimed his right to the hand of the 
 fair Alice, and there was no good reason why his 
 just request should not be complied with. The king's 
 conduct, in regard to this affair, seems mysterious, 
 and can be only explained by the opinion, that he 
 had himself become enamored of the French princess, 
 and had determined to dispose of her for his own 
 3 
 
34 The Lion-Hcarted King. 
 
 behoof. Henry had tried to obtain from the Pope 
 of Eome, a divorce from his wife Eleanor, with the 
 purpose, it was said, of espousing Alice, the betrothed 
 of Richard. King Philip of Prance, indignant at 
 this retention of his sister, peremptorily summoned 
 the English king to yield her up, that Richard might 
 have his own, and that Alice might be saved the dis- 
 honor of an unworthy alliance with the father. 
 
 Richard had just cause of complaint against his 
 father for keeping the fair Alice; but this was not the 
 main motive which impelled him again to take up 
 arms against King Henry. It was probable, as the 
 sequel will show, that he cared but little for Alice, 
 however fair she may have been. The prince pre- 
 ferred the rude excitement of war to the soft delights 
 of love, and chose rather to tussle in fierce encounter 
 with Mars, than to linger in the amorous embraces 
 of Venus. 
 
 Alice and Richard had seen but little of each other, 
 and had been affianced, as children, because it suited 
 the policy of their parents. The former were too 
 young and thoughtless to think of love ; the latter, too 
 old and ambitious to regard it. We may conclude 
 that Richard's heart was not much concerned in the 
 demand he made for Alice. King Henry, however, 
 was none the less to blame for his conduct in with- 
 holding from his son his bride. 
 
 Richard's ambitious longings for power, and the 
 belief that the crown of England was destined, by 
 
Richard breaks his Allegiance. 35 
 
 King Henry, for his younger brother John, were the 
 chief causes of this new resistance to his father. 
 
 Another conference was held in Normandy. Philip 
 proposed that Alice should be given up to Richard, 
 and that that prince should be declared heir, not only 
 to England, but to all the continental dominions, and 
 that the king should cause his vassals to swear fealty 
 to Richard. Henry peremptorily refused the latter 
 demand. Richard was enraged, and he exclaimed 
 with great energy, " This forces me to believe that 
 winch I before deemed impossible." The prince 
 referred to the report that Prince John had been 
 preferred by his father, as heir to the crown. It was 
 evidently the throne of England that was uppermost 
 in his heart, and not the hand of the fair Alice. He 
 struck for the prize of kingdoms, and not for the con- 
 quest of a girl. Richard would rather fight for power 
 than sue for love. His nature was essentially resist- 
 ing and warlike. A violent altercation ensued during 
 the conference, and Richard, on the refusal of his 
 father to grant his demands, furiously turned from 
 him, and ungirding the sword by his side, threw him- 
 self on his knees at the feet of the king of France, 
 and placing his hands between his, said, "To you, 
 sire, I commit the protection of myself and my 
 hereditary rights, and to you I do homage for all my 
 father's dominions on this side the sea." King Henry, 
 terribly excited by this violent rupture and bold 
 defiance of his rights as king, and claims as father, 
 
36 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 hastily sprung upon his horse and galloped, away 
 Henry, almost broken-hearted, and suffering from 
 disease of body as well as agony of mind, did not 
 show his usual activity and spirit. King Philip and 
 Richard were allowed, in consequence, to make for- 
 midable headway. They took castle after castle, 
 town after town, vinopposed, while the king, bent as 
 he was by grief and bodily suffering, yielded unre- 
 sistingly to each successive blow. 
 
 The Church, however, came to the aid of the Eng- 
 lish king, and by its threats of interdict and excom- 
 munication did more by its spiritual artillery than 
 the broken-hearted and now feeble and unnerved 
 Henry could do with sword and battle-axe. Another 
 conference was held, the same demands were made 
 by the king of France, and Richard, but were again 
 refused. Henry proposed that Alice should be given 
 in marriage to Prince John, and that he should be 
 declared heir to the French portion of his dominions. 
 Richard would not consent, and Philip was faithful 
 friend enough to second the prince in his refusal. The 
 cardinal legate, John of Anagni, who was present 
 at the conference as the representative of the Pope, 
 and as the advocate of the cause of the king of Eng- 
 land, rebuked the French king, and threatened France 
 with a papal interdict. Philip spiritedly despised, 
 the threat, and told the proud prelate that he had 
 sold himself — that he could easily perceive that he had 
 smelt of the English pounds sterling. Richard, 
 
The King Suppliant. 37 
 
 whose sword was always his first and last appeal, 
 could not contain his fierce temper, and was for cut- 
 ting down the prelate without more ado, hut was 
 timely prevented from so audacious an act hy tha 
 mediation of others. 
 
 Sad and dispirited, King Henry rode away. Aqui 
 taine, Poictou, and Brittany rose in opposition to 
 him, and his barons on all sides engaged in conspira- 
 cies against his declining power. The hold heart to 
 conceive, the determined will to do, and the strong 
 arm to strike the blow, were no longer his. He felt 
 his weakness and knew that he was at the mercy of 
 his enemies. The proud Henry then first bent the 
 knee in suppliance, and he sued for peace, throwing 
 himself upon the mercy of Philip and Eichard, to 
 whom he promised to submit to such terms as they 
 might in their good pleasure bestow. 
 
 The plain of Azar was selected for a meeting 
 between the kings of England and France to agree 
 upon the terms of a treaty. The two monarchs, on 
 horseback, met and rode together on the plain. 
 Prince Richard, also mounted, stationed himself at a 
 distance, awaiting the issue with some feeling of re- 
 verence for his father and shame at his own share in 
 that royal father's humiliation. Philip and Henry 
 had stopped their horses and commenced a parley, 
 when of a sudden a dark cloud overshadowed the 
 plain and threw a gloom over nature, which was in 
 harmony with the sombre grief in which the heart of 
 
38 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 the English king was wrapt Henry had just ven- 
 tured a gentle objection to a proposition of Philip 
 when a bright flash of lightning, glancing with 
 fearful vividness between the two, followed by the roar 
 of thunder, blinded and silenced the monarehs. The 
 startled horses sj^rimg back, and the English king, 
 trembling with excitement, would have fallen from 
 his seat had not his attendants rushed to his support. 
 It seemed to the prostrate monarch as if the eye of 
 God had looked dreadfully upon him in the glare of 
 his lightning, and had spoken to him in the voice of 
 his thunder, commanding him to yield; and with fear 
 and trembling, he hurriedly consented to every 
 demand of the Erench king. The only condition he 
 asked, was that as he had granted pardon to all who 
 had risen in rebellion against him, he might be 
 graciously permitted to see a list of their names. 
 The scroll was handed to him while prostrate with 
 sickness. The first name was that of his son John. 
 The cup of bitterness was at its full, and the unhappy 
 monarch now suffered the dying agonies of a broken 
 heart. Henry, Geoffrey, Richard, and John — all 
 rebels to their king and fiither. The last was the 
 saddest blow of all. To be bereaved of the love of 
 his youngest, the beloved of his declining years, was 
 an affliction too great for endurance. The king was 
 in the vigor of his manhood and in the fullness of 
 prosperity when his elder sons first rebelled, and he 
 could find in the exercise of his kingly offices and in 
 
The Broken Heart. 39 
 
 the excitement of battle a diversion from the sorrows 
 of a grieving father. John, however, had forsaken 
 him in his age and adversity, and while the king, tot- 
 tering in his weakness, leaned upon him as his only 
 support, the youthful sapling sprung from the feeble 
 hand, and the old man fell prostrate on the ground. 
 
 " Is it true that John, the child of my heart, whom 
 I have cherished more than all the rest, and for the 
 love of whom I have drawn down upon mine own 
 head all these troubles, hath verily betrayed me ?" 
 Thus cried the king in the agony of his breaking 
 heart as he started from his bed and gazed wildly 
 about. No one could deny it. Then the unhappy 
 king exclaimed, " Now, then, let every thing go as it 
 will, I have no longer care for myself or the world," 
 and he fell back upon his bed and turned his face to 
 the wall. 
 
 Chinon, beautifully situated on the banks of the 
 French river Loire, was the favorite residence of the 
 Norman kings; and it was here in the retirement of its 
 groves and within the sound of the murmurs of its 
 river flowing on to the boundless ocean, that King 
 Henry desired to linger out his last hours in quiet 
 contemplation, as his stream of life was fast flowing 
 into eternity. He accordingly was conveyed there 
 in a litter ; but the change had no effect upon the mind 
 or disease of the doomed king. He grew worse and 
 worse, and finally gave up all hope and yielded him- 
 self up to death. In his last moments he was heard 
 
40 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 to mutter in wild and broken accents, " O shame ! a 
 conquered king ! I a conquered Icing ! Cursed be 
 the day on which I was born, and cursed of God the 
 children I leave behind me." He was urged by the 
 priests in attendance to retract these awful curses, 
 but would not. The king can be hardly held responsi- 
 ble for these words which passed his dying lips, as 
 they were probably uttered in the delirium of 
 approaching death. 
 
 Henry had an illegitimate son by the fair Rosa- 
 mond, of the name of Geoffrey, who was chancellor 
 of England. He proved the most faithful of his 
 children, and hurried to the side of his dying father. 
 The king received him with a joy that brightened up 
 the features of the dying man ; he gave him the 
 ring from his finger, and with a bitter sarcasm, ex- 
 pressing a hope that Richard would pardon his fidelity 
 to his king and Ins affection for his father, desired 
 that he might be elevated to the archbishopric of 
 York, or the see of Winchester. 
 
 The king rapidly failed, and in a spirit of devotional 
 piety, with his last breath, desired to be carried to the 
 church, where he was borne, and died at the foot of 
 the holy altar. Ministers, barons, bishops, and priests, 
 with the characteristic heartlcssness of courtiers, hur- 
 ried away while the last, breath was moist upon the 
 pallid lips of the dead king. The menial attendants 
 followed the example of their betters, and after hav- 
 ing stripped the body and stolen all they could lay 
 
The Last Ititervietv. 41 
 
 their hands on, fled, leaving what was mortal of the 
 king to the chance reverence of the passer-by. 
 After some delay, a few humble persons were found 
 to wrap the body in a winding-sheet and bear it to 
 its last resting-place in the Abbey of Pontevraud. 
 Richard, who had heard of the death of his father, 
 hurried to pay the last, unavailing respect to his 
 remains. He met the procession, and must have 
 learned a lesson of humility while he beheld the 
 royal corpse borne by the hands of strangers. 
 Richard followed it to the tomb ; and uncovering the 
 remains, was face to face with his father, who in death 
 preserved that expression of despair and suffering 
 which betokened a ,long agony of body and soul. 
 The son looked on in silence, but his whole frame 
 shook with emotion, and he fell prostrate before the 
 altar, where he poured out a prayer, intermingled 
 with bursts of passionate remorse. 
 
 The old chroniclers record that the body of the 
 king never ceased to bleed at both nostrils while 
 Richard was in its presence. " The very corpse, as it 
 were, abhorring and accusing him for his unnatural 
 behavior." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 RICHARD the First was thirty-two years old 
 when he ascended the throne of England. He 
 was in the full vigor of a ripe manhood. A remark" 
 able man in appearance, was this lion-hearted king. 
 He was tall in stature, being over six feet in height, 
 and his muscular development was proportionate. 
 With the strength of a Hercules, he had truly the 
 heart of a lion. His arms were somewhat of dispro- 
 portionate length, but were completely under the 
 mastery of his iron will, and no one of his day, when 
 personal strength was carefully developed by manly 
 exercise, could wield a battle-axe or use a sword with 
 so much force. The battle-axe was the king's favor- 
 ite weapon ; and before he left for the Crusades, he had 
 one, the largest ever manufactured, made for him by 
 some of the most skillful of his English handicrafts- 
 men. The head of it alone, wrought of the best-tem- 
 pered steel, weighed over twenty pounds, and this 
 famous axe was expressly made, according to a 
 rhyming chronicler of the times — 
 
 " To break therewith the Saracen's bones." 
 
 We shall have occasion to record the doughty service 
 
Personal Appearance. 43 
 
 of this famous weapon, wielded by the stalwart 
 Richard. Nothing could resist the blow of his strong 
 arm : whether it was to cleave a helmet in the deadly 
 conflict of battle, poise a lance, or struggle hand to 
 hand in the rude game of the tournament, Eichard's 
 strength never failed to tell ; and his enemy in war, 
 or his competitor in the tourney, was sure to bite the 
 dust. 
 
 His yellowish, auburn hair, his ruddy com- 
 plexion, browned from exposure, his curling beard 
 and moustache, with his brawny, full-rounded, and 
 yet well-knit limbs, his arched chest and lofty stature, 
 proved him of true Norman blood, and he was one 
 of the noblest knights of that doughty stock. When 
 roused, his eyes, which were ordinarily piercing and 
 brilliant, became so fired with intensity that none 
 could withstand their glance, and his boldest enemy 
 shrunk back affrighted at his terrible look. His tem- 
 perament was ardent and impulsive ; he was quick 
 to take offense as he was ready to forgive. He was 
 rash and headstrong, imperious in will, and could brook 
 no opposition. He was incomparably brave, his de- 
 light was in war, and he sought every occasion for the 
 indulgence of his favorite occupation. Well disciplined 
 in the exercise of arms by those wicked assaults upon 
 his father's rights, and frequent civil wars, ho became 
 at an early age an experienced soldier, and when he 
 received the crown of England, was undoubtedly the 
 bravest knight and greatest warrior of his age. 
 
44 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Though King Richard loved the clash of arms, and 
 the fierce excitement of the battle-field, he was 
 remarkable, according to the times in which he lived, 
 for his culture, and was skilled in the gentle art of 
 minstrelsy. He was deeply enamored of the poetry 
 that was cultivated in the middle ages, and held a 
 high rank himself among the gay Troubadours. 
 
 Richard's first act, as king, was to perform his . 
 duty as son; and he released his mother, Queen 
 Eleanor, from her captivity. This proud woman's 
 spirit had been curbed by her long imprisonment. 
 For sixteen years, this restless, ambitious queen had 
 checked her flight against the prison-bars, and bruised 
 her heart, in its hopeless fluttering, against the cruel 
 and unmoved resolve of the resolute King Henry. 
 When she was restored to the light and boundless 
 space of liberty, her eyes no longer wandered from 
 the path of duty, nor did she essay a flight beyond 
 the limits of her modest life as mother. Her first 
 act, on being restored to freedom, was a generous 
 bestowal of alms to the poor, that they might pray 
 for the soul of her dead husband — a pious deed, that 
 betokened remorse for her own willful conduct, and 
 forgiveness for the king's cruel treatment. Eleanor 
 was invested with the office of Regent of England, 
 during King Richard's detention in Normandy. 
 While in the exercise of her brief authority, she gave 
 proof of a tenderness of heart that showed how much 
 her early nature was subdued. She abounded in 
 
Coronation. 45 
 
 works of mercy, released those who had been unjustly 
 imprisoned, and mitigated the severity of many of 
 the laws, the weight of which pressed heavily upon 
 the English people. Richard, either from a rever- 
 ence for the memory of his father, or remorseful 
 remembrance of his own wicked rebellion, or from a 
 consideration of state policy, persecuted those who 
 had plotted against the late king, and did not even 
 spare his own friends, whom he, the chief traitor, had 
 led to rebellion. His brother was the only exception, 
 and him he treated with unusual indulgence and the 
 most brotherly kindness. 
 
 A great festival was held on the occasion of the 
 king's coronation. Westminster was chosen for the 
 impressive' scene. The great ecclesiastics, cardinals, 
 abbots, and bishops were there, in their rich robes 
 of priestly office, to shed a sacred halo upon the cere- 
 mony, while the bold barons, whose glistening armor 
 flashed defiance, and whose battle-axes and sword- 
 blades dimmed the eye with their dazzling brightness 
 and threatening aspect, were also there in full array, 
 a rampart of knightly princes, with bold hearts and 
 strong arms to defend the throne. The old chroni- 
 clers record that in the morning, the bishops, abbots, 
 and clergy went in procession to the palace, bearing 
 the cross before them and carrying censers. The 
 king, who was in his private apartments, joined them 
 at the palace, and the procession moved on to West- 
 minster, the road from the palace to the abbey being 
 
46 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 laid with broadcloth. First walked the clergy, bear- 
 ing the cross, the censers, and vessels filled with holy 
 water; after them came the priors, abbots, and 
 bishops, in the centre of whom were four barons, 
 carrying enormous candlesticks of pure gold ; then 
 came Godfrey de Lucy, with the cap of state, and 
 John de Mareschall with the golden spurs ; next, 
 William, Earl of Pembroke, with the sceptre, and 
 William, Earl of Salisbury, with the rod and dove ; 
 after these came David, Earl of Huntingdon, brother 
 to the king of Scotland, Prince John, and Robert, 
 Earl of Leicester, bearing three swords, the scabbards 
 of which were inlaid with gold ; they were followed 
 by six earls and six barons, carrying a magnificent 
 casket, in which were the insignia of royalty and the 
 state robes ; then came William de Mandeville, Earl 
 of Albemarle, carrying the crown before the king, 
 who had on one side of him the Bishop of Durham, 
 and on the other, the Bishop of Bath, while a splendid 
 canopy of rich silk was borne on lances, by four 
 barons, above his head. 
 
 An enormous crowd of the citizens and other 
 denizens of London and of all parts of the country, 
 followed the procession until it entered the Abbey, 
 where it passed up the centre, which was covered 
 with rich cloth of the superb Tyrian dye, and Avas 
 met by Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, who 
 was in attendance at the altar. Richard knelt down 
 before the altar and swore the usual oath. Having 
 
Wealthy Citizens, Servants. 47 
 
 been divested of his mantle and upper garments, and 
 sandals, richly worked with gold, having been placed 
 upon his feet, the Archbishop poured from the 
 ampulla the holy oil upon his head, breast, and 
 shoulders, and annointed him king. The cap of 
 state was then put upon his head, and being clothed 
 hi the kingly robes, he received the sword of justice ; 
 and two noble earls, bending on their knees, buckled on 
 the golden spurs. Thus regally arrayed, Richard was 
 led to the altar where the crown was placed, and the 
 Archbishop, admonishing him in the name of God, not 
 to touch it unless he was prepared solemnly to abide 
 by his oath, Richard repeated his sacred pledge, and 
 took the heavy crown from off the altar, and handed 
 it to the prelate, who placed it upon the royal head. 
 Richard was thus formally crowned King of England. 
 The royal sceptre was then assumed, and he seated 
 himself upon the throne. The celebration of mass, 
 with all the imposing ceremonial of the Church, 
 closed the impressive scene. 
 
 This great occasion led to one of the most dis- 
 graceful events in English history. A banquet was 
 held, after the coronation, in the choir of Westmin- 
 ster Qiurch, at which all the nobility were present as 
 guests, and citizens of wealth and repute, as servants. 
 Some of the worthiest burgesses of London served 
 as butlers, who in these days, are the drawers of 
 corks and the washers of bottles, but in the time of 
 King Richard had to do with flagons and goblets 
 
48 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 instead, while the same respectable class of the city 
 of Winchester served up the meats. Times have 
 changed since then, and the worth of honest industry 
 is weighed in a somewhat juster scale. The builders 
 up of a nation's prosperity, the merchants, and traders, 
 and handicraftsmen, are not so ready to bow their 
 necks in servile subjection to the destroyers, the 
 ambitious kings, warriors, and fighting-men. The 
 latter are only too happy, now-a-days, if the former 
 will graciously let them have the wherewithal to eat, 
 and drink, and fight, without asking for what they 
 would fail to get — menial service, too. 
 
 The disreputable scene to which we have referred, 
 was not, however, this degradation of honest citizens, 
 but something worse, still ; a disgraceful riot, which 
 led to one of the most dreadful massacres ever 
 recorded. 
 
 The Jews, in the time of King Eichard, were cer- 
 tainly the most useful citizens, and undoubtedly the 
 greatest benefactors of England. The trade, and con- 
 sequent wealth and prosperity of the country, were 
 almost entirely indebted to the persecuted race of 
 Israel. Nearly all the comforts, and certainly all the 
 ornaments and luxuries of life, which increase so 
 much its charms, and entice it on by their attractions 
 to the refining influence of civilization, were brought 
 into the country by the enterprise of the Jews. They 
 of course, as they were the only commercial portion 
 of ii.e people, accumulated great wealth, as the\ 
 
Jew Money-Lenders. 49 
 
 deserved to do ; for in many respects they made the 
 best use of it, by increasing the resources and adding 
 to the wealth and prosperity of the land. 
 
 The war-making, spendthrift kings, and the reckless, 
 dare-devil, swaggering barons, who were often out of 
 pocket by their prodigal waste, were obliged to have 
 frequent recourse to the Jews for loans. These needy 
 nobles were more than usually urgent in their de- 
 mands, and doubtless less than usually punctual in 
 their payments at this time, in consequence of the fre- 
 quent wars and the contemplated Crusades. Money 
 was, as our brokers would say, in brisk demand, hard 
 to get ; and in obedience to the laws of commerce, 
 which are as absolute as those of nature, money 
 became dear. The Jew lenders, therefore, finding 
 the commodity in which they were the only dealers 
 in demand and scarce, naturally and properly raised 
 its price. This angered the fierce barons, who knew 
 only how to spend money and get it by stealing ; for 
 such great souls were too ignorant to know how it 
 was obtained by honest industry, and too lofty to 
 learn. The kings and barons of those days preferred 
 foul means to fair, and so they persecuted the indus- 
 trious, money-making Jews. As for the religious 
 belief of these people, although the so-called Christian 
 nobles of those days pretended to have it in awful 
 abhorrence, we do not think they cared much whether 
 the Jews rejected Christ or not ; for they, themselves, 
 were not given over-much to following his precepts 
 
50 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Philip of France, on ascending his throne, illus- 
 trated the old fable of the goose and golden egg over 
 again, and banished, like a fool, all the Jews from 
 his kingdom, and, robber-like, confiscated all their 
 property, and released the Christians from their debts 
 to their Jewish creditors. Richard of England, it 
 was supposed, would be guilty of the same folly and 
 wickedness, as he wanted money as badly as his 
 kingly brother, and was not too good or too wise to 
 get it in the same way. 
 
 The people were probably more honest in their 
 prejudices against the Jews than the nobles. The 
 latter, allied with the Church, did all in their power 
 to foster these prejudices for their own unworthy 
 purposes. The priests taught that the Hebrew nation 
 was suffering under the curse of God, and that it was 
 the duty of a Christian people, in obedience to the 
 will of their heavenly Father, to carry out that 
 dispensation. No religious duty was more faithfully 
 kept. An infidel Turk might be saved, and all his 
 Turkish sins washed away by baptism ; but an unbe- 
 lieving Jew had a taint in his nature, that all the 
 waters of the ocean could not cleanse. The poor 
 persecuted Jew hardly dared to show himself in the 
 light of day, but was obliged to lie obscurely hid- 
 den until night, when he skulked about under the 
 shadow of the darkness. The people shrunk from a 
 Jew as from a pestilence, and feared that the mere 
 touch of his garment would contaminate them. 
 
Generosity of Jews, 51 
 
 At the coronation, in accordance with this ill-will 
 and prejudice against the Jews, all of the despised 
 race were expressly commanded by proclamation to 
 keep far away from Westminster, lest their presence 
 should pollute so holy and august a ceremony. The 
 coronation, however, being over, and the banquet 
 having begun, the Jews thought that the interdict 
 against their presence remained no longer in force, 
 and accordingly sent a deputation composed of their 
 most venerable patriarchs, loaded with costly presents, 
 to render to King Richard their homage, and pro- 
 pitiate him with their gifts. The king graciously 
 admitted the venerable Jews and their magnificent 
 offerings to his presence, and he and his courtiers 
 welcomed the latter with very unmistakable feelings 
 of joy. The former, however, did not fare so well. 
 A disturbance having risen on the outside of the hall, 
 where a Jew, in trying to make his way through the 
 crowd collected at the gates, was struck by a Christian 
 and pursued with a hue and cry, like some miserable 
 vermin, the noise reached the interior of the hall 
 while the Jewish deputation were displaying their rich 
 vessels of gold, and caskets of diamonds and precious 
 jewels, before the eager king. The courtiers and 
 attendants, after securing the rich offerings, reechoed 
 the outside cry of persecution, and cursing and 
 reviling the. generous Jews, thrust them violently out 
 of the hall, and handed them over to the rage of the 
 furious multitude without. They were cruelly beaten 
 
52 The Lion-Hearted King, 
 
 with staves and bats, and driven with stones to their 
 houses. 
 
 The king not doing any tiling to check this cruel 
 violence, the people collected in large numbers 
 from all quarters of the city, and raged through the 
 streets, killing every Jew they met. Then this 
 infuriated mob attacked the houses in the Jewish 
 quarter of London, and where they found resistance, 
 set fire to the dwellings, burning all the inmates, old 
 men and women, fathers, mothers, and helpless child- 
 ren. In some instances, where they succeeded in 
 entering the houses, all the Jews they found were 
 seized and hurled alive from the windows into the 
 fires they had kindled on the outside. Their blood- 
 thirsty ferocity made no nice distinctions, but the 
 aged, the sick, and the bed-ridden were all murdered. 
 Richard at last became aware of the necessity of 
 doing something toward allaying the excitement of 
 the people, and accordingly sent the Lord Justiciary 
 and other officers, with an armed force, to endeavor 
 to put down the riot. But these efforts proved vain. 
 The authority of Richard's officers was despised, and 
 they themselves obliged to fly for their lives, and 
 barely succeeded in getting back to Westminster 
 Hall, where the banquet still continued. At night 
 the havoc went on, the burning of the houses of the 
 Jews, which threatened a general conflagration of the 
 city, lighting the mob in their mad work of pillage 
 and murder. Fresh tortures were applied, by their 
 
Massacre of Jews. 53 
 
 merciless persecutors, to the wretched Israelites. 
 They not only plundered and ransacked the houses 
 to vent their fury upon the helpless occupants, but 
 received those that were hunted from their burning 
 or ransacked dwellings, in their attempt to escape 
 through the doors and windows, upon the points of 
 their spears, bill-hooks, and swords, with which every 
 outlet bristled, so that not a single Jew should escape. 
 These fearful outrages lasted from twelve o'clock 
 one day, until two in the afternoon of the next, when 
 the mob seemed for awhile glutted with blood, and 
 ceased only from fatigue and satiety. 
 
 King Richard hung three men, not, as he publicly 
 proclaimed, because they had murdered the Jews, 
 but because they had burned the houses of Christians, 
 which were accidentally destroyed by the fire set to 
 the Jewish quarter extending to them. Issuing a 
 proclamation, in which he stated that he received the 
 Jews under his special protection and that no one 
 should harm them, was all that King Richard thought 
 the crimes of his people and the danger of the emer- 
 gency required. 
 
 The effect of this ill-advised and criminal leniency 
 soon showed itself in the extension of the fanatical 
 rage of the Christians to other parts of England. In 
 Lynn, Stamford, Norwich, and Lincoln, the Jews 
 were plundered and massacred with the same ingenu- 
 ity of cruelty as in London. In York, however 
 
54 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 these persecutions reached an intensity unexampled 
 elsewhere. 
 
 York, with the exception of London, contained 
 more Jews than any other city in England, and these 
 were reputed to be possessed of enormous wealth. 
 Their great riches were the lure which tempted 
 the attack upon them, which was a deliberately 
 arranged plan, and not the act of popular frenzy. 
 Some of the nobles and officials of the city and neigh- 
 borhood, upon whose friendship the Jew traders had 
 calculated in consequence of their frequent relations 
 of trade and money-lending with them, were princi- 
 pally concerned in the persecution at York, which led 
 to one of the bloodiest events in history. 
 
 It was a dark and stormy night when the people 
 of York were startled from sleep by the cry that the 
 city was on fire. The streets were soon thronged by 
 the alarmed population, and flames were seen to 
 issue from various parts of the city. While the 
 citizens were engaged in putting out the fire and sav- 
 ing the lives and property of the sufferers, the house 
 of one of the richest Jew inhabitants of York, of the 
 name of Benedict, was ruthlessly assailed, every 
 member of the family, man, woman, and child mur- 
 dered, and the house plundered of its rich treasures. 
 The murderers then set fire to the house and fled 
 without opposition. This Benedict was one of the 
 representatives of his sect, who was deputed to wait 
 
Massacre at York. 55 
 
 upon King Richard at the banquet, and was, with his 
 associates, thrust out and exposed to the cruelty of 
 the savage London mob. While in the hands of 
 these cruel people, poor Benedict in his fright had 
 cried out that he abjured the Jewish faith and was 
 ready to become a Christian. A respite from death 
 was granted him in consequence, and on the next day, 
 when brought before the bishops, he refused to be bap- 
 tized, honestly confessing that he remained firm in 
 the Jewish faith, and that the only object of his 
 recantation on the day before, was to escape the 
 cruelty of the populace. He became subsequently a 
 victim of the fury of the mob at Northampton. It was 
 in consequence of his death, by which his house and 
 the wealth he had left behind remained unprotected, 
 that those who had contrived the plundering of the 
 Jews of York were induced to assault, rob, and 
 murder the household of Benedict and burn his 
 residence to the ground.. 
 
 The Jews of York became alarmed for their 
 safety, and so, with the consent of the Governor, 
 removed to his castle with their wives, children, 
 and most of their wealth. The robbers soon 
 renewed their attacks, their first success had only 
 sharpened their appetite for plunder and their thirst 
 for blood. The house of a Jew, of the name of 
 Jocenus, the partner of the unfortunate Benedict, 
 was now broken into and plundered. A number of 
 Jews had sought refuge in that place, as it was 
 
56 The Lion-Hearted King 
 
 strongly guarded, and these poor creatures thought 
 themselves sufficiently secure without joining their 
 brethren in the castle. The darkness of the night was 
 again chosen for the assault of these desperate robbers, 
 who, under the name of Christians, committed acts 
 unequalled by the most ferocious heathen savages. 
 The house was plundered, its inmates tortured and 
 murdered, and the building burned to the ground. 
 
 On the next day all disguise was thrown off, 
 and the Jewish quarter became a scene of indis- 
 criminate robbery and slaughter. Life was offered 
 to those who would be baptized, but the property of 
 all, without exception, was carried off. Most chose 
 the alternative of death, and were slain without 
 mercy. The Jews in the castle now became doubt- 
 ful of their safety, notwithstanding the strength of 
 the refuge to which they had fled. The Governor 
 having gone to the city on business, the Jews, sus- 
 picious of the sincerity of his protection, determined 
 to become masters of the castle, and accordingly 
 secured the sentinels, and barred the gates against his 
 return. The Governor, then fortifying himself with 
 the sheriff's authority, attacked the castle. Crowds 
 of people came thronging in from the country, until 
 they swelled to a great multitude. A fanatic rage 
 took possession of this uncontrollable mass, and 
 although the sheriff, fearing the excesses of the mob, 
 revoked his order, it proved too late, and the excited 
 people would listen to no terms, and were resolved 
 
The Jewish Patriarch. 57 
 
 to grant no quarter. The castle was then assaulted, 
 and without effect, for several days, as the Jews 
 defended themselves with the desperation of men at 
 bay, with their lives depending on the issue. The 
 mob were, however, not to be thwarted in their 
 hellish purpose. Among their leaders, it is recorded 
 that there were some priests, who, forgetful of the 
 lessons of their Saviour, were urging on the infuri- 
 ated savages to their work of cruelty and death. A 
 hermit was one of the principal instigators, and his 
 fanatic appeals to the passions of the mob stirred them 
 to frenzy. This man, however, soon met with his 
 deserts, for he was killed by a stone thrown from the 
 castle. 
 
 The Jews finding at last that their resistance was 
 unavailing, were driven to desperation, and one of 
 their most venerable patriarchs, a man learned in the 
 law and of great authority among his race, advised 
 that they should destroy themselves, as it were bet- 
 ter to die by their own hands than to suffer a linger- 
 ing death in torture at the less merciful hands of their 
 Christian persecutors. The venerable patriarch, 
 whose words were eagerly caught, as if he spoke 
 with the inspired voice of a sacred prophet of old, 
 stood up among his people, his long, scant hairs of 
 gray and his white beard adding the respect of age 
 to the authority of office, and solemnly and with a 
 tone of resolute and yet pious resignation, uttered the 
 following words: "Men of Israel, God bids us die 
 
58 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 for the law, and our glorious ancestors have so diea 
 in all ages. If we fall into the hands of these our 
 enemies, not merely death, but cruel torture awaits us. 
 Let us then return to our Almighty Creator the life 
 which he gave ; let us die willingly and devoutly by 
 our own hands." Some assented at once, and the 
 work of self-slaughter commenced. These first hav- 
 ing proposed to burn the castle, which was resisted, 
 killed their wives and children, and after having made 
 way with all they could of their wealth, burning their 
 rich robes and costly shawls of Cashmere, and bury- 
 ing their jewels and plate of silver and gold, sacri- 
 ficed themselves. Those who remained waited in an 
 agony of anxiety for the coming day, and gathering 
 . at the first light of dawn upon the wall, stretched out 
 their arms in prayers for mercy, and besought their 
 persecutors to spare their lives. Obtaining a promise 
 of safety, the gates were opened, and the infuriated 
 mob rushed in and massacred every Jew in the 
 castle. 
 
 King Richard was sorely vexed at the conduct of 
 his Christian subjects, for he had pledged his protec- 
 tion to the Jews ; but yielding to the prejudices of 
 the times, he did not punish the crimes of the 
 murderers as they merited. He contented himself 
 with suspending the governor and the sheriff from 
 their offices, and with his usual eagerness for money, 
 let off the principal inhabitants who were responsible 
 for the r< bbery and murder of the Jews of York, 
 
Richard prepares for the Crusade. 59 
 
 on the payment of a round sum as a penalty for their 
 offense. 
 
 During the life-time of his father, King Henry, 
 Richard's martial spirit had been stirred by the elo- 
 quent appeals of the patriarch Heraclius, who headed 
 a deputation sent in 1185 by Queen Sybilla, to crave 
 the assistance of France and England, in the crisis of 
 Jerusalem, which was about falling again into the 
 hands of the Turks. Richard had pledged himself to 
 the cause of the holy city. Now that he was king, 
 he was ready to fulfill his pledge, and his whole soul 
 was absorbed in the resolute purpose of a crusade 
 against the Turk. Since the visit of the patriarch 
 Heraclius to England, the city of Jerusalem had been 
 taken by Saladin, of whom we shall hear more in the 
 sequel, at the head of his fierce Saracens. The holy 
 cross was now in the polluting hands of the infidel, 
 and the sepulchre of Christ wrested from the devout 
 protection of the Christian soldier, and abandoned to 
 the mockery of the unbelieving Turk. 
 
 Richard was not superior to the superstition of his 
 age, and undoubtedly yielded with enthusiastic devo- 
 tion to its influence ; but it was his martial spirit, 
 rather than his religious feeling, which prompted his 
 crusade to the East. He was fired with his love 
 of the excitement of battle, and his ambitious ardor 
 for martial renown. Palestine was to him a great 
 battle-field, where he burned to rival the warlike 
 deeds of former Christian princes. Whether or not 
 
60 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 he felt the religious feelings which consecrated the 
 wars against the Saracen, and made them holy in the 
 superstition of his age, he was conscious how greatly 
 the summits of the earthly glory of battle were 
 brightened by the rays of heaven, which were thought 
 to descend upon them. He was resolved to scale 
 those summits, whose celestial effulgence paled all 
 other objects of aspiring ambition. 
 
 Richard now strove unceasingly to prepare for an 
 immediate crusade. In carrying on a holy war, 
 money was as indispensable as in any other kind, and 
 however spiritually-minded the Christian soldier, he 
 must have his pay and rations. As the expedition to 
 the East was to be on a great scale, it was necessary 
 that the preparations should be proportionate ; and 
 accordingly the king was hard put to it to raise the 
 necessary funds. The hundred thousand marks left 
 in the treasury by King Henry were by no means 
 sufficient, so King Richard resorted to the usual royal 
 expedients for raising the wind. In the first place, 
 there were his subjects, upon whom he levied a tax, 
 the tenth of all they had, and which, being called after 
 the infidel Saracen, the Saladin tithe, and destined 
 for a religious war, was, as far as can be learned, 
 readily submitted to and promptly paid up. 
 
 There was, also, an ambitious ecclesiastic of the 
 name of Hugh de Pudsey, Bishop of Durham, who 
 had plenty of ready money, and was free to spend it 
 when he could find a good bargain, who bought from 
 
The Royal Auction, 61 
 
 the king the temporalities of his see, the life-rent of 
 the earldom of Northumberland, and the honor of Sud- 
 berg for ever, all in a lump. " Am I not," exclaimed 
 the hearty king, " a cunning alchemist, thus to trans- 
 mute an old bishop into a fine new earl 1 ?" The Bishop 
 liking his first bargain so well, made another purchase 
 of the king, who was ready to sell every thing, even 
 London, if he could find a bidder, as he said. The 
 prelate, this time, paid down a thousand silver marks, 
 and got, in return, the office of chief justiciary, and 
 the permission to remain at home, where his lordship 
 might be secure from bodily harm, although he had 
 previously vowed to join the crusade. 
 
 King Richard knocked down at auction public lands, 
 towns, royal castles, fortresses, offices and dignities, 
 bishoprics and abbacies, and whatever might find a 
 bidder, and bring a mark to his treasury, which was no 
 sooner filled than emptied by his extravagant expendi- 
 ture for the coming Holy "War. He got the round sum 
 of twenty thousand marks from the king of Scotland, 
 for which he released that monarch from all the obli- 
 gations that had been extorted from him by the hard 
 righting of King Henry. He sold also his affection to 
 his half-brother, Geoffrey, whom he took to his heart 
 for three thousand marks. This was the son of the 
 late king by the fair Rosamond, whose pious devotion 
 to his father in his last moments we have recorded. 
 He, in accordance with King Henry's wish, had been 
 elevated to the see of York, as Archbishop. 
 
62 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Eichard had not lingered, but Philip of France, 
 who was bent on accompanying the English monarch 
 to the Holy Land, had been before him in his prepara- 
 tions, and being impatient, sent messengers to Eng- 
 land to remind Eichard that Easter was approaching, 
 the time appointed for their departure on the Crusade. 
 Eichard, surrounded by his earls, barons, and knights, 
 who had taken the cross, went out to meet the mes- 
 sengers, and when gathered all together, the French- 
 men swore by the soul of King Philip, and the 
 Englishmen by the soul of King Eichard, that the 
 respective monar'chs would be ready at the time 
 appointed. 
 
 Eichard now had fairly drained England to its 
 last mark, and so he made his arrangements for the 
 government of the kingdom, preparatory to taking 
 his departure. Hugh de Pudsey, the Bishop of Dur- 
 ham, in accordance with his bargain with the king, 
 was made regent, and William de Mandeville, earl 
 of Albemarle, was joined with him in the administra- 
 tion of the government. The latter, however, soon 
 took his departure, and left the whole authority in 
 the hands of the Bishop, who, in his turn, was obliged 
 to yield up his office to the greater capacity of Long- 
 champ, bishop of Ely and Chancellor of England. 
 
 ■ The king now left for Normandy. While in this 
 part of his dominions, Eichard sent for Queen 
 Eleanor, who went to him, accompanied by Alice, 
 the betrothed of Eichard, and in accordance with his 
 
The English and French Alliance. 63 
 
 constant affection for his mother, made over to her 
 several rich estates, in addition to those she already 
 possessed, and decreed that she should be consulted, 
 in the absence of her son, in affairs of state. 
 
 In the presence of a great assembly of Peers, the 
 king exacted from his brother John, and his half- 
 brother Geoffrey, archbishop of York, a solemn oath 
 that they would not set foot in England for three 
 years from the time of his departure. He however 
 revoked, at a subsequent period, this restriction as 
 fir as it concerned his brother. John, although dis- 
 appointed at losing the regency, was, in other respects, 
 most generously treated, and had numerous earldoms 
 in Normandy and England bestowed upon him, those 
 in the latter country forming no less than a third 
 part of the whole kingdom. 
 
 An intimate alliance was formed between Philip 
 and Richard, such as has had no parallel in the his- 
 tory of Prance and England until our time, between 
 Louis Napoleon and Queen Victoria, with this differ- 
 ence, that as the past was against, the present is in 
 favor of the Turk. It is to be hoped that the issue 
 of the existing friendly ties between the two countries 
 may be more fortunate than that of the former. The 
 two king'; solemnly bound themselves on their oaths, 
 to aid each other under all circumstances, to preserve 
 the peace of both countries, mutually to protect 
 each other's rights against foreign attack, and that 
 in regard to the expedition they were undertaking, in 
 
64 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 case of the death of either, the surviving king should 
 become possessed of the treasure of the other and 
 the command of his forces. 
 
 The setting-out of the expedition was postponed 
 from Easter day until midsummer, in consequence of 
 the death of the queen of France, King Philip's 
 consort. 
 
 The plain of Vezelai, in the summer of the year 
 1190, was the scene of one of the most imposing 
 military spectacles of former times. The armed 
 hosts of Richard and Philip, which amounted in com- 
 bination to more than one hundred thousand, were 
 gathered together in full array, with the two kings 
 in splendid suits of armor at their head, vieing with 
 each other in the proud display of all that was 
 knightly and martial in their kingdom. The French 
 and English knights rode about the plain, showing 
 off, in friendly rivalry, their chivalrous bearing, and 
 the marshalled thousands of England and France 
 shared the proud spirit of their leaders, while an eager 
 multitude, thronging from all parts of the country, 
 looked on with admiring enthusiasm. Shouts of 
 uncontrolled delight rent the air, and the auspicious 
 scene was hailed as the assured triumph, in the 
 future, of the cross of Christ, and the certain perdi- 
 tion of the infidel Turk. After an encampment of 
 two days on the plain of Vezelai, the armies marched 
 together to Lyons, where they parted. Philip went 
 to Genoa, where his fleet of ships were in readiness, 
 
Tar and Feathers. 65 
 
 and King Richard led his army to Marseilles. The 
 English fleet, which was composed of over a hundred 
 vessels, that had set sail for this port, had met with 
 terrible storms, which had dispersed the ships and 
 delayed them so much that they were five months 
 in reaching Marseilles. At the present day, the 
 same voyage, made for a similar purpose, the convey* 
 ance of English troops, has been accomplished, by 
 the expedition of steam, in less than a fortnight. 
 
 There was a curious ordinance, among others, 
 established by King Richard for the regulation of his 
 ships, before they sailed from England. It ran thus : 
 Any man convicted of theft, or "pickerie," was to 
 have his head shaved, and hot pitch poured upon his 
 bare pate, and over the pitch, the feathers of some 
 pillow or cushion were to be shaken, as a mark 
 whereby he may be known as a thief. This is the 
 first record we have of tarring and feathering, which 
 was so favorite an application in punishment of the 
 sin of toryism during revolutionary times, and which 
 continues to be, particularly in western and southern 
 districts of our country, a cherished mode of marking 
 an offender, where often the punishment is more 
 obvious than the offense. 
 
 The English fleet met with some strange adven- 
 tures in the course of its long voyage. The ships, in 
 the Bay of Biscay, encountered a severe storm, which 
 dispersed them. One was only saved from founder 
 ing by the good luck of having some hundred pious 
 
66 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 men on board, who, according to the old chroniclers, 
 called, in the emergency, upon the canonized Becket 
 in heaven. St. Thomas, obedient to orders, 
 turned out of his celestial bunk at once, in full rig, 
 with crozier and pall, bringing with him his mess- 
 mates, the Saxon king, Edmund, martyr and saint, 
 and the sainted Nicholas, (not old Nick,) the good 
 friend and patron of Jack. They all mustered on 
 deck, and, lending a hand with a hearty good will, got 
 every thing snug, taut, and trim again, and the good 
 ship proceeded on her course. 
 
 In spite of this aid from above, the vessel, however, 
 after coasting along the shores of Spain and Portugal, 
 was found to be not very sea-worthy, and was forced 
 to put in at Sylves, on the Portuguese coast, to the 
 south. The people of that town happened just then 
 to be in great alarm, in consequence of a threatened 
 attack of Africans from the opposite shore. The Por- 
 tuguese earnestly besought the Englishmen to lend 
 them their aid, telling them that the Africans, being 
 Mohammedans, were infidel enough to satisfy any 
 Christian crusader. The Englishmen, after their long 
 voyage and salt diet, were eager enough to flesh their 
 swords, and were as thirsty for fresh blood as so many 
 caged tigers suddenly let loose. The inhabitants of 
 Sylves persuaded the crusaders to- break up their 
 ship and use the timbers as a barricade for their town, 
 on the promise that they should have another vessel 
 quite as large, when they were ready to continue their 
 
The Crusaders at Lisbon. 6? 
 
 voyage. Nine other of the fleet, by good luck, hap 
 pened to put into the Tagus, a river in Portugal, and 
 the king of that country begged the men aboard also 
 to join him in a war against the Mohammedans.. 
 They consented ; and with their aid, the English force, 
 amounting to some five hundred, the Africans were 
 completely routed. 
 
 The king then took it into his head to go 
 down to Lisbon, where he had heard of the arrival 
 of another portion of Richard's fleet, making, in 
 all, some sixty-three ships at anchor in the Tagus. 
 His majesty was somewhat startled at the host of 
 fierce Englishmen he beheld. These, pious Cru- 
 saders as they were, turned out terrible roysterers 
 ashore, and kept up all kinds of wild rioting and 
 plunder, helping themselves out of the bloated pig- 
 skins of wine, and becoming drunk and disorderly, 
 knocking down the citizens right and left, and making 
 free with the pretty Portuguese girls of Lisbon. The 
 king, who was a good-natured monarch, and was truly 
 grateful for the aid he had received from these 
 unruly Englishmen, contented himself, at first, with 
 an appeal to the English leaders of the expedition. 
 Fresh riots, however, after a momentary repose, 
 broke out, and the Lisbon citizens were obliged, in 
 defense of their lives, wives, and property, to take 
 up arms, and much English blood was spilt in conse- 
 quence. The king then ordered the gates of the city 
 to be shut, and all the Crusaders were locked up until 
 
68 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 their ships in the Tagus, which now amounted to the 
 large number of one hundred and six, were ready to 
 start, when they were let out and sailed for Mar- 
 seilles. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 RICHARD'S impetuous temper was sorely irri- 
 tated by his disappointment in not finding his 
 fleet at Marseilles. The king, unable to check his 
 impatience, hired twenty galleys and ten great barks 
 at that city, and putting to sea from this French 
 port in the Mediterranean, with a part of his forces, 
 sailed for Sicily. In the course of his voyage along 
 the coast, he stopped at Genoa, where he overtook 
 the French king, and thence sailed to the mouth of 
 the Arno, and visited the fine city of Pisa in Italy. 
 His vessel requiring repairs, he anchored her at 
 Ostium, in the Tiber, near its mouth, but although 
 within a few miles of Rome, did not visit the Eternal 
 City. The bishop of Ostium came down to visit 
 King Richard, and while offering him a welcome to 
 the patrimony of St. Peter, took occasion to remind 
 the royal debtor of a small account the Pope of Rome 
 held in his holy ledger against his name. Richard 
 did not like this ill-timed dunning, and instead of 
 liquidating his debt paid off the episcopal bill- 
 collector with abuse instead, and turned a cold shoul- 
 der upon Rome, and would not call upon the Pope. 
 The royal ship having been refitted, the king again 
 
70 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 embarked and sailed to Naples. He landed in this 
 Italian city, and sent on his vessels to Salerno, pre- 
 ferring to proceed, himself, as far as the Straits of 
 Messina, by land. King Richard's restless spirit 
 soon tired of the confinement of ship-board, and, stal- 
 wart hero as he was, his comfort was said to have 
 been very materially disturbed by that indisposition 
 which is common to heroes as "well as to more hum- 
 ble landsmen ; in a word, the king did not escape sea- 
 sickness. At Naples, King Richard piously visited 
 the sanctuary of St. Januarius, but although we learn 
 he told his prayers in that holy place, it is not 
 stated whether his eyes were gladdened by a sight 
 of the wondrous miracle of the solidification and lique- 
 faction of the saint's blood. 
 
 Naples gave great delight to the king, and, in 
 spite of his impetuosity and haste, he lingered 
 there several days, finding much enjoyment in the 
 society of the renowned Italian beauties of that 
 city. He tore himself away at last, however, from 
 the delights of Naples, and mounting his horse, 
 spurred on his way to Salerno. Here he awaited 
 the arrival of the ships he had hired at Marseilles, 
 and which he had sent on from Naples. In the mean 
 time the king, who took a deep interest in all that 
 pertained to learning and the arts, visited the famous 
 medical school of Salerno, and found himself, for he 
 also was a troubadour, quite at home among the 
 scholars and poets of that cultivated city. 
 
Arrival at Messina. 71 
 
 His vessels having arrived, Richard, giving his 
 orders for the continuance of their voyage, took to 
 horse again. His ride was a hard and dangerous 
 one, but the bold king stopped at no obstacle and 
 feared no risk. There were no roads in that day, 
 and as it was during the rainy season, the mountain 
 streams were swollen, which obliged the king and his 
 single attendant often to swim their horses at the 
 imminent risk of their lives. 
 
 As he was passing through a village, a fine hawk 
 in the possession of a poor peasant caught the 
 sportsman's eye of Richard, so, without more ado, 
 he went into the poor man's hut and seized the bird. 
 Its owner, who was a bold Calabrian, ran after the 
 royal thief and demanded his own. The king refused 
 the just demand, and would not unloose the hawk 
 from where it was perched on his wrist. The coun- 
 trymen of the wronged man took up his quarrel, and 
 began a fierce attack with sticks, stones, and the long 
 Calabrian knives, upon the king, who, drawing his 
 sword, struck one of the fierce fellows with the flat 
 of it such a blow that it broke in his hand. Richard 
 was now forced to put his horse to his mettle, and fly 
 fdr refuge to a neighboring priory, or else the bold 
 king would have left his bones in Calabria. He made 
 but a short stay in that neighborhood, and hurried on 
 until he reached the Straits of Messina, which his fleet 
 crossing from the Island carried him over to Sicily. 
 
 The king sailed into the Sicilian harbor of Messina 
 
72 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 in full glory. The wind was fair, and, although not 
 high, sufficiently strong to fill the unnumbered white 
 clouds of sails which floated majestically before it, 
 and to raise the myriad banners high and onward. 
 The course was due west, and, as the morning sun 
 rose behind the immense fleet, it tinged the spreading 
 canopy of canvas with its golden glories, and bright- 
 ened the red cross of the English standards with the 
 glow of fire. The king, in full armor, pressed eagerly 
 forward on the bow of the vessel, and raising his 
 visor, darted his keen glances through the veil of 
 mist which was fast rising before the coming sun. 
 Amid the ringing of armor, the shouts of the English 
 warriors, the neighing of the war-horses, and the 
 clangor of the martial horns and trumpets, the great 
 fleet anchored in the port, and the impatient Richard, 
 his brave knights, and doughty soldiers hurried to the 
 land. 
 
 The king of England had a good cause of quarrel 
 with Tancred, who, at the time of his arrival in 
 Messina, was ruling Sicily. Richard's sister, Joan, 
 was the widowed queen of the late King William, who, 
 leaving no issue, had bequeathed the crown to his 
 aunt Constance. This princess had married Henry 
 VI., the reigning emperor of Germany, but her natural 
 brother Tancred, had usurped the rights that belonged 
 to her and to Joan, and, by the force of arms, had 
 established himself upon the throne. King Richard's 
 widowed sister, Joan, opposed this usurpation, and 
 
The King^s Vindication of his Sister. 73 
 
 was, in consequence, imprisoned by Tancred. .Rich- 
 ard's first act, like a good brother, was to insist upon 
 his sister's release, which was granted without a mo- 
 ment of hesitation, by the usurper, Tancred, who sent 
 her from Palerno, escorted by his royal galleys, to 
 her brother at Messina. This did not satisfy, how- 
 ever, bold Richard, who also demanded that all the 
 magnificent dower, the territories, the cities, the 
 towns, the castles, the rich monasteries and their 
 abounding treasuries and wealth, should be instantly 
 given up as well. Richard would not await the 
 delay of negotiations, which Tancred proposed and 
 expressed his willingness to enter upon, but began a 
 foray, at once, by crossing the Straits of Messina, 
 with a part of his army, and pouncing upon the town 
 and castle of Bagnara, on the Calabrian side, left 
 his sister there safely housed and garrisoned. He 
 now returned to Messina, where, on the sea-shore in 
 the neighborhood, a monastery had caught his military 
 eye as a very suitable place for his own purposes, as 
 it flanked on one side his army, which was encamped 
 on the outskirts of the city. He accordingly drove 
 out the monks and appropriated it for his own use, as 
 quarters for his army and a depository for stores. 
 
 The English soldiers soon became unruly, and 
 indulged in all kinds of riot and licentiousness. The 
 citizens of Messina were naturally anxious to preserve 
 their property and the honor of their wives and 
 daughters, and when they found that neither one noi 
 
74 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 the other was safj from the attack of these lascivious 
 marauders, they rose against the English in the city, 
 and having killed several, shut the gates against 
 the English army. This was more than the unruly 
 soldiers, who were not accustomed to yield to any 
 resistance, however just, could endure; and they 
 therefore rushed fiercely to the walls and would have 
 scaled them, taken Messina by storm, and massacred 
 the inhabitants. King Richard, however, hastily 
 mounted his horse, and riding in their midst and 
 laying about, right and left, with his truncheon, 
 ordered them to desist, and the storm was quelled. 
 The disturbance led to a parley. Philip, the king 
 of France, whose quarters were inside the town, 
 taking with him some of the principal inhabitants of 
 Messina, went out on the following morning to hold 
 a conference with Richard, who, with his army, was 
 encamped in the suburbs. While they were delib- 
 erating, a troop of Sicilians were descried gathered 
 on a hill above, which commanded the English camp, 
 and threatened apparently an attack. One of the 
 Norman knights was wounded, in fact, by this invad- 
 ing force, and Richard, his quick eye seeing the 
 danger, and his hot blood stirred by the audacious 
 attempt, rushed out in the midst of the solemn 
 deliberation, and, calling his men to arms, led them 
 up the hill side. This sudden movement of the Eng- 
 lish was irresistible; the Sicilian multitude were 
 driven helter-skelter from their position, and fled pre- 
 
Quarrel with Philip. *th 
 
 cipitately down a declivity of the hill, and took 
 refuge, as they could, in a confused crowd within the 
 walls of the city. The English followed closely at 
 their heels, and some of the more precipitate and 
 forward pressed into the town along with the flying 
 people. The gates were then closed and the citizens 
 of Messina prepared to defend themselves. Richard, 
 however, soon brought his whole force to bear, and, 
 scaling the walls, took the city by storm, and, leaving 
 five of his bravest knights and twenty men-at-arms, 
 dead in his bloody path, took possession of Messina, 
 and raised the English standard upon its loftiest 
 tower. 
 
 King Philip, who, for some time, had exhibited 
 marks of an envious spirit, in consequence of the 
 more aspiring character and daring courage of his 
 ally, King Richard, now openly showed his rage and 
 envy. He denounced the conduct of the English in 
 storming Messina, as an invasion of his rights, as a 
 feudal superior to the English king, and as an out- 
 rageous act of resistance to his will. To a demand 
 made by the French king, that the English standard 
 should be lowered from where Richard had planted 
 it, and that the French standard should be put in its 
 place, the latter answered : " Does he think that I will 
 yield my conquests and the glory of the victory, to 
 one who is not even a sluggish friend, but a perjured 
 and vexatious enemy ?" 
 
 Concord was at last established between the two 
 
76 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 kings, through the influence of mutual friends, who 
 saw in this quarrel a serious blow to the great cause 
 of the crusade. By a compromise, King Richard 
 consented to haul down the English standard, and 
 commit the city to the control of the Hospitalers and 
 Knight Templars, until the difficulty with Tancred 
 might be settled to the satisfaction of King Richard. 
 There was a show of friendship, rather than the sub- 
 stance, established between the two allied but rival 
 monarchs. They renewed their former treaties, and 
 conjointly established some new regulations for the 
 improvement of the morals of the pious crusaders. 
 These men, in spite of the holy pilgrimage they had 
 entered upon, were by no means free of some of the 
 failings of men engaged in more worldly occupations. 
 The Crusaders, among other fashionable vices, were 
 much given to gambling. Laws were promulgated 
 for checking this prevalent practice. The kings were 
 determined to enjoy a monopoly of the vice, and 
 accordingly enacted that none should play without 
 their command, and when the nobles were graciously 
 permitted to do so by their royal masters, twenty 
 shillings was the largest sum allowed to be lost in the 
 course of a day and night, and if they transgressed 
 these rules, they forfeited four times the amount. 
 Archbishops, bishops, knights, priests, servants, and 
 sailors were graduated, in amount of stake and fine, 
 according to their rank and station. If the sailors 
 were caught gambling, they were ducked in the sea 
 
Tancred comes to Terms. 77 
 
 for three successive times, and servants and other 
 humble varlets were whipped round the camp. 
 
 King Richard's busy energies were soon again at 
 work. He seized the houses, galleys, and any thing 
 else he could get hold of, the property of some of 
 the great nobles of the country, who, not caring to 
 remain at the beck and will of the imperious Eichard, 
 had left Messina. The monastery that the king had 
 captured, he fortified, and dug round it a deep ditch, 
 while he built a fort upon the top of the hill which 
 commanded the English camp. These preparations 
 gave great umbrage to the king of France, but they 
 brought Tancred to terms with exceeding great dis- 
 patch, who thought, probably, that there was no use 
 parleying with a man whose bold acts spoke so much 
 more promptly and to . the purpose than words. 
 Tancred paid over to the English king, in lieu of all 
 demands, forty thousand golden ounces, an immense 
 sum in those days, one half of which was to satisfy 
 the claim in behalf of Richard's sister, Joan, and 
 the other as a sort of dower, paid in advance, on 
 account of the infant daughter of Tancred, who was 
 betrothed, on this occasion, to the nephew of the Eng- 
 lish King, Prince Arthur, who was the presumptive 
 heir to the English throne. 
 
 Richard, being well supplied with funds, kept up 
 great state at his new castle into which he had con- 
 verted the monastery and taken up his quarters. 
 He kept open house and gave a free welcome to all 
 
78 The Lion-Hearted King 
 
 comers; it made no difference whether his guests 
 were French or English, or, in fact, from what part of 
 the world they came, the same lavish hospitality was 
 extended to all. ]fts prodigal generosity made him 
 hosts of friends, and he became almost as popular in 
 the French army as in his own. He spent in a 
 month, more than his father did in a whole year. On 
 Christmas day there was a great banquet given in 
 Richard's castle, to which he invited all the knights 
 and gentlemen of both armies, and, after having 
 feasted them sumptuously, gave to each, by the way 
 of dessert, a round sum of money. 
 
 King Richard did not, however, waste all his time 
 and his substance in riotous living. He busied him- 
 self in making preparations for his coming warfare 
 in the Holy Land. He had his ships repaired ; he 
 cut down timber in the forests of Calabria, and con- 
 structed catapults and all kinds of warlike instru- 
 ments, with which he designed to batter down the 
 walls and castles of the Saracen. 
 
 Some how or other, whether it was the hard work 
 or the harder living, Richard became melancholy, 
 and took a serious turn. He gathered together all 
 the bishops and priests he could muster in Messina, 
 in a chapel, and falling down on his knees, in their 
 presence, confessed his sins, and professed to be ex- 
 ceedingly penitent of the profligacy of his past career. 
 The king being now in a religious mood, bethought 
 him of one Joachim, a monk, who had great repute 
 
Visit to Mi. Etna. 79 
 
 in Calabria and the country round aa a prophet and 
 theological disputant. Richard was desirous of see- 
 ing this famous character, and having a set-to on 
 points of religious doctrine with this formidable theo- 
 logian. He accordingly sent for him to visit Mes- 
 sina, and after Joachim, soon after his arrival, had 
 had his own way, for a long hour or so, on his favor- 
 ite topic of the Apocalypse, in the course of which 
 he was presumptuous enough to assert (evidently 
 squinting at the Pope) that Antichrist was actually 
 at that present time in Rome, the bishops and learned 
 clerks took up the cudgels and roundly rated the 
 prophet for his presumption, and disputed, with great 
 warmth of temper and much vigor of lung, every 
 doctrinal point he had raised. We do not learn who 
 had the better of the argument, but the king is re- 
 ported to have set down Joachim as a vain babbler. 
 The Crusaders were obliged to pass the whole 
 winter in Messina, in consequence of the weather, 
 which prevented the fleets from putting to sea with 
 safety. King Richard's impatient spirit was much 
 chafed by the delay, and he sought all kinds of di- 
 version for relief to his restless temper. On one 
 occasion he liastily mounted his horse and rode away 
 alone to Mount Etna. This volcanic mountain had 
 been lately in a state of active eruption, and was 
 still burning. Richard forced his horse as far up to 
 the edge of the volcano as the frightened animal would 
 go, and contemplated the convulsive throes of nature 
 
80 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 in harmony with his own fitful temper. In the dark 
 clouds of smoke which rolled out from the summit 
 of the burning mountain, and darkened the fair face 
 of the land of the olive and the grape for miles 
 around, relieved by occasional outbursts of vivid 
 flame — and in the torrent of molten lava, which flowed 
 down impetuously, overwhelming and blasting all it 
 touched, the king beheld a scene in sympathy with 
 his own disturbed heart, which had its convulsive 
 throes of temper, its dark, impending clouds, and its 
 flaming outbursts of passion ; while Richard's impetu- 
 ous course through the world, not unlike the river of 
 fire which poured down the mountain-steep, deluged 
 with ruin and death all that it overtook in its resist- 
 less flood. 
 
 From Mount Etna the king, agitated with the 
 tumultuous scene he had just witnessed, pushed on 
 at full speed, spurring his horse to the height of his 
 mettle, and reached Catania, the Sicilian city, not far 
 from the southern base of the volcano. Here he 
 was met by Tancred. The kings, who now saw each 
 other for the first time, embraced with much warmth, 
 and proceeded at once to the cathedral church, where 
 they both kneeled down before the shrine of St. 
 Agatha, and offered up their prayers together. They 
 soon became sworn friends. Richard was as hearty 
 in his friendships as in his enmities, and although 
 capricious in the selection of his friends, he gave his 
 whole heart where he found a breast to receive it. 
 
A Traitor Discovered. 81 
 
 Tancred had had so far more occasion to fear than to 
 love the English hero, but was doubtless glad enough 
 of this opportunity to enroll himself on the side of 
 the friends of the formidable king — the only security 
 for those who came within the reach of his mighty 
 arm. Presents were exchanged between them ; 
 Tancred gave Richard a costly ring, and Richard 
 gave Tancred the enchanted sword Calibrun, once 
 wielded by King Arthur of famous memory. The 
 latter also, which was more to the English king's 
 purpose, contributed to the crusade four large ships 
 and fifteen galleys. In the course of the ride on the 
 way to Messina, in which Tancred accompanied his 
 newly-made friend for many miles, the latter handed 
 a letter to Richard, which he pretended to have re- 
 ceived from Philip of France, and in which the French 
 king denounced the king of England as a traitor, who 
 intended to break his word to Tancred. The letter, 
 moreover, concluded with an offer, on the part of his 
 majesty of France, to assist the Sicilian king in driv- 
 ing the English from Sicily. The lion-hearted king 
 was fiercely wroth at the baseness, and swore by all 
 the saints in the calendar that he would have venge- 
 anee for this slander. Recovering himself, however, 
 he appeared to doubt that Philip could have been 
 guilty ofsobasean act; but Tancred assuring him 
 that there could be no doubt, Richard rode on gloom, 
 ily and in silence. 
 
 On Tancred's departure, the English king, swear- 
 G 
 
82 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 ing that he would have revenge, hurried on to Mes- 
 sina. When he arrived at the camp and met Philip, 
 he fiercely charged him with the slanderous letter. 
 The king of France, however, stoutly denied the 
 charge, and threw back upon Richard the accusa- 
 tion that the letter was forged, as a pretext for a 
 quarrel, and that the English king hoped in this way 
 to break his vows to Philip's sister, Alice. Richard, 
 in fact, had no love for this fair lady, and although in 
 his father's life-time he had made so much ado about 
 his rights to her hand, he acted merely for selfish 
 purposes, that he might have cause of quarrel with 
 King Henry, the wicked results of which have been 
 already told in the course of this history. 
 
 The English king had in truth fallen in love with 
 a beautiful daughter of the king of Navarre, of the 
 name of Berengaria. Richard, in the course of a 
 visit to her father's dominions, had become despe- 
 rately enamored of the charming princess, who re- 
 turned his passion with equal ardor. This occurred 
 two years before the death of King Henry, so Richard, 
 while he was rising in rebellion against his parent, 
 under the pretense of his claim for Alice, was the 
 whole time desperately in love with another. As 
 soon as Richard became king, he sent his mother, 
 Eleanor, to ask the hand of the beautiful Berengaria, 
 who did not hesitate to accept the offer. This 
 princess had no dower to bestow, and Richard asked 
 for no political advantages from the father, as a con- 
 
Berengaria Arrives. 83 
 
 dition of taking his daughter ; so we have reason to 
 believe that this was an example of true love, which 
 royal marriages seldom present. The maiden at 
 once consented to follow her betrothed to the Holy 
 Land ; and so, placing herself under the care of Queen 
 Eleanor, she joyfully set out to meet her lover. 
 The two dames then travelled on together until they 
 reached the castle of Eleanor's sister, Joan, a short 
 distance from Messina. They remained there until 
 the departure of King Philip from Sicily. In the 
 mean time a strong affection sprung up between the 
 sisters-in-law. An old chronicler says : " Dame 
 Joan held her sister, Berengaria, very dear, and 
 the two ladies lived together like two birds in one 
 cage." 
 
 This love between the beautiful Berengaria and the 
 ardent Richard was undoubtedly the great cause why 
 Alice was rejected by the English king, who now 
 flatly refused, to the face of- Philip, to have any thing 
 to do with his sister, adding, moreover, that he had 
 good reason for doubting her virtue, and openly 
 charging that she had criminal relations with the late 
 King Henry. Philip was at first exceeding wroth at 
 this charge against his sister's honor, and angrily ex- 
 claimed : " Let the English king beware, for I certify 
 him if he leave her and take another, I will be his 
 implacable enemy for ever." Richard, however, 
 persisted, and Philip was fain to let off the English 
 king, who promised to give up the princess's dower, 
 
84 The Lion-IIearted King. 
 
 and pay over two thousand marks sterling, per an- 
 num, for five years, as a sort of make-weight for poor 
 Alice's honor. This was strange conduct on the part 
 of Philip ; but it is supposed that there was some 
 truth in the charges against the princess, and it was 
 probably deemed more prudent not to insist too 
 much upon the character of Alice, who consoled her- 
 self, when cast off by a king, by taking up with a 
 noble, William, Count of Pathieu, whom she married. 
 It is to be hoped she made amends for living as a 
 bad princess, by conducting herself virtuously as a 
 good countess. 
 
 The winter was now over, and the French and 
 English prepared to set out for the Holy Land. The 
 former sailed first, in the month of March of the year 
 1191. Such were the unkind feelings between the 
 two monarchs that they preferred to go separately. 
 As soon as Philip had left, Richard sent for his 
 mother and the beautiful Berengaria. He was, how- 
 ever, so bent upon embarking for the Holy Land, that 
 with all his impatience to make the charming princess 
 his bride, he postponed his happiness, and devoted 
 all his enei'gies to the busy preparations for depar- 
 ture. Being finally ready, he dispatched his mother, 
 Eleanor, who set out on her return to England. 
 This lady had already made the " great passage," as 
 it was termed in those days, in the company of her 
 first husband, Louis of France; and although she 
 had now reached a good old age, it was her recollec- 
 
Sets Sail from Sicily. 85 
 
 tion of the trials and difficulties of the voyage to the 
 Holy Land, and not her want of vigor, which in- 
 duced her to return home. The parting between 
 Richard and his mother, who mutually loved with 
 great affection, was very tender. 
 
 Richard having collected a great fleet, consisting 
 of one hundred and fifty ships, fifty-two galleys, ten 
 vessels laden with stores, and numerous small craft, 
 took his departure, after having demolished the old 
 monastery, which had been his castle, and all the 
 fortifications he had constructed. Berengaria, under 
 the matronly care of his sister Joan, accompanied 
 him, but was delicately provided for in a ship apart 
 from himself, one of the finest and largest vessels in 
 the fleet being expressly fitted up for the use of the 
 princesses, while the king took up his quarters on 
 board of another ship. 
 
 The fleet moved gallantly through the Straits of 
 Messina, carried rapidly along by the swift current. 
 Crowds of Sicilians gathered on the shores to behold 
 the ships as they passed, and great was their admira- 
 tion of the noble sight of the gallant fleet, proudly 
 bearing the king of England, his best beloved, his 
 chivalry and all his hosts, to defy the tempests and 
 the battle. 
 
 A fair wind bore the fleet prosperously on its 
 course for some days. The ships kept company 
 together, during this time ; but a great storm arising 
 when near the island of Candia, the ships were sorely 
 
86 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 tossed and dispersed in all directions. Several of the 
 fleet got safely into the island of Rhodes, among 
 which was the ship which l}ore the king. At this 
 place Eichard was taken sick, which detained him for 
 some days, but in the mean time he sent some of his 
 fastest sailers in search of -the missing vessels. 
 Among these was the ship in which his betrothed 
 Berengaria and his sister Joan had taken passage. 
 The king was in a state of great anxiety for the 
 uncertain fate of those whom he loved so deeply. 
 The storm had been severe, and, although there was 
 no vessel in the fleet better manned or appointed in 
 every respect, he still, having been tempest-tossed 
 himself, and almost wrecked, felt that there was good 
 reason for alarm. Moreover, in those times, there 
 was less confidence in the staunchness of a vessel 
 and in the skill of the sailor than now-a-days, and 
 the sea and the storm had ten-fold more horrors, and, 
 in fact, dangers, in consequence of the unskillful ship- 
 building and navigation. 
 
 One of the fast vessels that had been sent to look 
 after the missing ships soon returned, bringing Rich- 
 ard a doleful account of disaster. Three of the finest 
 ships of the fleet had gone ashore at Cyprus, while 
 the vessel which conveyed the beautiful Berengaria 
 and the princess Joan was lying off Limesol, a port 
 on the southern edge of that island, in a damaged 
 condition, having suffered severely in the storm. 
 Many of the soldiers on board the three vessels that 
 
Wrecked at Cyprus. 8? 
 
 had been wrecked on the coast of Cyprus, had been 
 drowned in attempting to reach the land, while the 
 rest, who succeeded in getting ashore in safety, were 
 received by the inhabitants with a great show of 
 friendship. They were, however, imprisoned under 
 the pretext that it was necessary that they should 
 await the orders of the emperor of the country before 
 they could be allowed to go at large. They were 
 confined in a neighboring castle, stripped of their 
 armor, and kept closely guarded. Another ship 
 belonging to the fleet happened to anchor off the 
 island at this time, and the commander, knowing that 
 his countrymen must be in need, sent to them a sup- 
 ply of provisions, of which he had an abundance on 
 board of his ship, which had not suffered in the least 
 by the storm. These supplies, on being landed, were 
 immediately taken possession of by the authorities 
 of Cyprus, and appropriated to their own use, while 
 the Englishmen who had been wrecked were still 
 kept in close confinement, harshly treated, and 
 deprived of the necessaries of life. The prisoners, 
 driven to desperation, were resolved upon making an 
 attempt to save themselves. They knew if they re- 
 mained where they were, death was certain, and, 
 whatever might be the result of their determination, 
 no change could be worse than their present desperate 
 condition. The soldiers, therefore, made a bold effort 
 to free themselves, and succeeding in tearing down 
 the gates of the castle and killing their guards, issued 
 
88 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 out. The inhabitants of Cyprus mustered in large 
 numbers and opposed their approach. Though only- 
 armed with a few bows and rapiers, sufficient merely 
 for a small portion of them, these brave Englishmen 
 made such an onslaught on their opponents, that the 
 throng of Cyprusites were kept off, and the soldiers 
 succeeded in making their way to the harbor of Lime- 
 sol. Here, they found some of the crews and soldiers 
 of other vessels that had put in there, in similiar 
 straits with themselves, and engaged in a desperate 
 scuffle with the inhabitants. Joining their forces, the 
 Englishmen gained a complete victory, securing for 
 themselves, for the present, a position near the town. 
 
 As for the vessel on board which the princesses 
 were, it was deemed safer that she should ride at 
 anchor, although severely damaged by the storm 
 and requiring repairs. Richard's sister and bride 
 were therefore still on board, within a short distance 
 of the land, but did not venture ashore, fearing to put 
 themselves at the mercy of the people of Cyprus. 
 
 A usurper of the name of Isaac, who grandilo- 
 quently styled himself emperor, was, at that time, 
 ruler of the island of Cyprus. His people were rudo 
 barbarians, cruel, deceitful, and cowardly, and their 
 emperor was no better. He and his subjects were 
 Greeks, and Greek, in those days, as now, was deserv- 
 edly a name of reproach. The Crusaders held them 
 especially in contempt; for, notwithstanding their 
 profession of the Christian faith, and their neighbor 
 
The Crafty Isaac. 89 
 
 hood to the Holy Land, they refused to join in its 
 defense. All other people despised these rude bar- 
 barians of Cyprus for their dastardly character and 
 their frequent acts of piracy, plunder, and inhospital- 
 ity. The mariner avoided their shores with fear and 
 trembling, lest, being wrecked, he should be plun- 
 dered and mercilessly destroyed by these wicked 
 islanders. 
 
 The Emperor Isaac, who was a crafty man, in the 
 course of a day or so made his appearance, and had 
 a long talk with the shipwrecked Englishmen. He 
 offered all sorts of excuses for his subjects, on the 
 ground of their ignorance, and made the fairest 
 promises for the future. He then invited the English 
 to the hospitalities of his kingdom, gave them per- 
 mission to make themselves at home in Limesol, and 
 supplied them with provisions and liberal draughts 
 of wine, in which that country abounded. These 
 offers were gladly accepted and the crafty Isaac taken 
 at his word, who no sooner had got them in his 
 clutches, and supplied them well with wine, of which 
 Richard's men were over-fond, than he took them 
 captive and put them in prison. The fair words of 
 Isaac were, however, not so persuasive in their effect 
 upon the princesses, whom this wicked usurper would 
 have been glad to have got in his power. They 
 resisted all the kind invitations and generous pro- 
 mises of this crafty personage, and preferred all the 
 discomforts of their ship to the tender mercies of 
 
90 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 their would-be host. They, however, thought it safer 
 to be very civil, and accordingly gave out that it was 
 their intention, shortly, to avail themselves of the 
 imperial hospitality. Their real purpose, however, 
 was to conciliate the emperor of Cyprus, that they 
 might be permitted to remain in security where they 
 were until the bold Richard should come to the 
 rescue. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 KING Richard fretted grievously on his sick bed 
 at Rhodes, when he heard of the cruel treatment 
 of his brave followers at Cyprus, and the danger of 
 his bride and sister. He swore that he would be 
 revenged upon the insolent and deceitful Isaac, and, 
 although not recovered from his illness, he sprung 
 from his bed and ordered his ships to be made ready, 
 that he might on the instant, hasten to the rescue of 
 his beloved, and his valiant Crusaders. The king 
 embarked and pushed on with all speed to Cyprus. 
 On his arrival he hastened to assure himself of the 
 safety of the fair Berengaria, and his sister Joan, who 
 were still on board their vessel in the harbor, and 
 who welcomed him with great demonstrations of 
 love and confidence, as their best friend and surest 
 protector. 
 
 Richard then promptly dispatched a messenger to 
 the Emperor Isaac, summoning him to deliver up at 
 once all the English, and whatsoever arms and pro- 
 perty he had taken from them. The emperor did 
 not seem to know with whom he had to deal, and was 
 presumptuous enough to declare, in answer, that he 
 would keep all that he had got, that the English were 
 
92 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 intruders upon his land, and that he would neither 
 deliver them up nor their property, and, moreover, 
 he added, that if the king of England, himself, should 
 have the audacity to land, he should be treated like 
 his countrymen ; for he neither feared nor cared for 
 any of the Crusaders, great or small. This was bold 
 language, such as Eichard would brook from no man 
 or sovereign in the world ; and accordingly he 
 ordered his boats to be got ready, and, filling them 
 with armed men, his bowmen of England, the most 
 skillful in Europe, and his Norman knights and 
 warriors, he pushed on to the shore, determined to 
 punish the insolent Isaac and the barbarians of Cyprus. 
 The emperor, preparing to meet the onset, had 
 brought out the full array of all his forces. Thou- 
 sands of archers were to be seen crowding in thick 
 rank and file the walls and the towers, while the Cyprus 
 cavalry manoeuvred on the shore, and a fleet of boats, 
 manned with soldiers, sailed out into the harbor to 
 oppose King Eichard's approach. The lion-hearted 
 monarch first attacked the armed boats, and fighting 
 a hand-and-hand struggle with those on board, over- 
 came them, threw them into the sea and took posses- 
 sion of their craft. His famous English marksmen 
 kept the archers of Cyprus at bay, while Eichard 
 and his men approached the land. The king did not^ 
 in his impetuosity, wait until his boats touched the 
 shore, but leapt overboard, where the water was up 
 to his middle, followed by his brave fellows, and 
 
The Emperor put to Flight. 93 
 
 dashed in among the horsemen that were stationed on 
 land to resist him. He was surrounded by the host 
 of cavalry, hut his iron arm and mighty heart never 
 failed him. He struck the boldest with dismay and 
 kept them off, until his men, coming up to his aid, the 
 throng about him were scattered; and Richard, 
 springing at the bridle of a horse of one of the enemy 
 with one hand, and hurling down the rider with his 
 other, leapt into the vacant seat and made for Isaac, 
 the emperor, whom he singled out from a thickly-set 
 body-guard, by his shining armor and royal crown. 
 Richard shouted out, as he dashed toward him, " Ho ! 
 lord emperor, come, if thou darest, and meet me 
 hand to hand." Isaac was loth to come any nearer 
 to the fierce Richard, and showed his discretion by 
 plunging his spurs into his horse's sides at the sum- 
 mons,* and trusting to his horse's speed for safety. 
 The Cyprus troops followed their emperor's example, 
 and there was a general flight of the enemy. They 
 escaped to the town of Limesol and closed the gates ; 
 but the English in pursuit burst them open and 
 rushed into the place, while the people of Cyprus fled 
 head-long out of it. Richard and his men were now 
 in full possession of all they wanted ; Limesol sup- 
 plied them with comfortable quarters, abundance of 
 provisions of all kinds, and no small treasure, which 
 had been left behind, in the precipitate retreat of the 
 citizens. 
 
 The king now prepared for the reception of the 
 
94 The Lion~Hearted King. 
 
 princesses, and on the next morning they both landed 
 and were handsomely provided for in Limesol, and 
 Richard was enabled, by the forced prodigality of 
 the citizens, to celebrate the occasion by a generous 
 feast. 
 
 The English king was now on the look-out for 
 further adventure, and accordingly determined to 
 seek it in the interior of the island. He first, how» 
 ever, had his horses landed from the fleet, and al- 
 though the animals had suffered greatly from the 
 voyage, the king selected fifty of those in best con- 
 dition, and causing some of his boldest knights to 
 mount, led them into the country, in search of the 
 adventures he so much longed for. 
 
 Isaac, in the mean time, had gathered from all 
 parts of the island a great force, with which he was 
 encamped in a valley, a few miles distant from 
 Limesol, and with which he intended to attack the 
 English, and drive them from Cyprus. Richard and 
 his knights were riding leisurely along a plain, not 
 far from the city of Limesol, when they were be- 
 held by a large body of Cyprus horsemen, who had 
 gone out to reconnoitre. The latter sounded a chal- 
 lenge at once, as they thought they might safely do, 
 as their own force so greatly outnumbered the scarce 
 half-hundred, all told, of Richard's knights. The 
 English king drew up his horsemen on the instant, 
 and listening for a while to the defiant trumpet, 
 caught a glance of the Cyprus cavalry in an olive grove, 
 
The Theologian put Down. 95 
 
 Adhere they had halted ; and Eichard's men, digging 
 their spurs into their horses' flanks, galloped at full 
 speed after the enemy. The horsemen of Cyprus did 
 not await the approach of the English, but hastily 
 scampered away, and escaped to the camp, where Isaac 
 and his army were stationed in the valley. Richard 
 had nearly come up with them, but halted within a 
 short distance, and taking his station upon an emi- 
 nence, looked down into the valley, where he beheld 
 the army of Cyprus, encamped on the borders of a 
 winding stream, with the busy soldiers moving hastily 
 about. 
 
 Richard and his men were quickly discerned, 
 and the outposts tried to dislodge them by a shower 
 of arrows. The boldest of the English knights were 
 for putting spurs to their horses and throwing them- 
 selves upon the camp below at once, while some of 
 the less daring, alarmed at the overwhelming num- 
 bers of the army of Isaac, were for the less danger- 
 ous expedient of retreat. Bold Richard's answer to 
 the spokesman of the latter party, Hugo De Mara, a 
 learned theologian, (who had been taken along that 
 the knights might have the benefit of clergy,) 
 showed very clearly on which side Cceur-de-Lion's 
 fearless spirit ranged itself: "Sir clerk," said the 
 king, " we soldiers meddle not with your profession, 
 neither do we presume to interpret the Scriptures. 
 I pray you do likewise, and suffer us to deal with 
 yon rabble as we see fit." 
 
96 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Richard would listen to no advice against what 
 some of his knights, men of tried courage, could 
 not but deem the wildest madness ; but shouting 
 to his men to follow him, urged his steed down 
 the precipitate descent, and dashed right into the 
 midst of the camp. King Richard singled out, 
 as usual, the emperor himself, and unhorsed him 
 with a single blow from his lance, and would have 
 taken him captive, but some of Isaac's attendants 
 came to their master's rescue, and hurriedly mounting 
 the emperor upon a fresh horse, galloped away with 
 him in safety from the field. 
 
 The army being dismayed with the terrible on- 
 slaught and daring courage of King Richard and his 
 knights, fled precipitately, throwing away their arms, 
 their helmets, lances, and their standards, in their head- 
 long flight ; and escaping up the sides of the mountains 
 in the rear of the camp, sought refuge in the fastnesses. 
 The emperor Isaac left behind, as a prize to the vic- 
 tors, great stores of provisions, which were estimated 
 at an enormous value ; and such was their abundance 
 that King Richard and his fifty knights, although 
 they had won them, could not carry them off; so 
 they were forced to send to Limesol for a large 
 number of men to come to their aid, and bear away 
 what had been so gallantly obtained. 
 
 The emperor now found that it was in vain to op- 
 pose the English, and eagerly sought an interview 
 with King Richard, that terms might be agreed upon, 
 
Richard and Isaac Meet. 97 
 
 by which Cyprus and its inhabitants should have 
 some chance of escape. Isaac came from his capital 
 of Nicosia, in the centre of the island of Cyprus, 
 where, he had retreated, and met Eichard, by appoint- 
 ment, in a plain near the city of Limesol. The 
 English king rode on a fine Spanish horse, richly 
 caparisoned, and wore a splendid suit of silk and 
 gold, while his expression was gay, and his bearing 
 gallant and chivalrous. Isaac came as a humble sup- 
 pliant ; and as he ever had, in harmony with his de- 
 ceitful character, a contracted, mean look, on this 
 occasion his bearing seemed doubly mean and spirit- 
 less in the presence of the frank and courageous 
 Richard. Of course Isaac felt himself wholly at the 
 mercy of the English, and was ready to grant any 
 concessions demanded. Richard was determined to 
 make him pay roundly for his inhospitality to his 
 people, who, without any fault of their own, had been 
 thrown upon his mercy. He accordingly forced him 
 to pay down in gold a handsome sum as a compensa- 
 tion for the wrong he had done ; to give up all his 
 castles ; to swear fealty to the king of England ; and 
 collecting 500 infantry, 400 light horse, and 100 
 knights, to follow Richard to the Holy Wars. 
 
 Isaac, moreover, was required to hand over his beau- 
 tiful daughter, to whom he was afFectionately devoted, 
 as a hostage for the fulfillment of his engagement. She 
 was to be restored on the return from Palestine, 
 together with all the castles and other property in 
 7 
 
98 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Cyprus, provided Isaac should keep his word and 
 behave himself properly during the expedition to the 
 Holy Land. The emperor eagerly consented to these 
 terms, hard as they were, but he had no sooner got 
 away from the threatening eye and resolute presence 
 of Richard than he yielded to the influence of one of 
 his officers of the name of Caiaphas, who easily per- 
 suaded the traitorous emperor to an act of deceit, to 
 which the low cunning of his nature made him prone. 
 Isaac left Limesol precipitately on the very night of 
 the conference with Richard, during which he had 
 solemnly bound himself to the terms that have been 
 mentioned, and proceeded to Famagosta, a town on 
 the eastern side of Cyprus, where he prepared again 
 to attack the English. Richard was ready for the 
 emergency, and acted with his usual spirit and 
 promptitude. 
 
 There happened to arrive just at this time in 
 Cyprus, a man of note, Guy of Lusignan, who 
 was engaged in a contest with Conrad, Marquis 
 of Montserrat, for the empty honor of the throne of 
 Jerusalem. He had come to solicit the aid of King 
 Richard in his behalf, which was heartily tendered him, 
 although his opponent was much the better man, and 
 had secured the advocacy of King Philip of France, 
 and the stronger part of the Crusaders. As Guy was 
 at hand, Richard was glad to avail himself of his aid 
 in punishing Isaac of Cyprus ; so he sent him, placing 
 under his command a sufficient force, to besiege the 
 
Isaac's Beautiful Daughter. 99 
 
 city of Famagosta by land, while he himself proceeded 
 by sea to blockade the mouth of the harbor. The 
 English king thus hoped to secure the emperor by 
 cutting off all chance of escape. "W hen Guy reached 
 Famagosta, he found that Isaac had, in expectation 
 of his arrival, betaken himself with great dispatch to 
 the interior of the island, and taken refuge in a castle, 
 which, from its position on the steep of a mountain, 
 was almost unapproachable by any large force. 
 Three castles fell successively before the approach of 
 Guy, in one of which the beautiful daughter of the 
 emperor of Cyprus Was found, and taken captive. 
 This entirely overcame her father, who loved his 
 child with the deepest affection. 
 
 He left his mountain retreat and threw himself at 
 the feet of Richard, declaring he was ready to give up 
 every thing he had on earth, if the English king would 
 only restore to him his beloved daughter. Richard, 
 although he despised the abject monarch, whose ruin 
 was his own fault — for he had first provoked the attack 
 of the English, by his insolence, and then yielded 
 to it, through his cowardice — still pitied the father. 
 Accordingly Isaac was led to his daughter, and they 
 embraced with the most tender emotions. They re- 
 mained folded in each other's arms for a long time, 
 mingling their tears, now of joy at their meeting, and 
 again of sorrow at their misery. Isaac asked of 
 Richard the boon of being chained with silver fetters, 
 which was granted to him, as a concession to his im- 
 
100 The Lion-Hearted King, 
 
 perial dignity. The former ruler of Cyprus was kept 
 in close confinement until the departure of the English 
 for the Holy Land, when the captive monarch was 
 conveyed to Palestine, and imprisoned in a castle on 
 the sea-shore there, where he lingered out a captivity 
 of four years, until his death. The silver fetters are 
 said to have soothed the fallen emperor's pride, if 
 they did not diminish the weight of his chains, or the 
 severity of his bodily sufferings. 
 
 Previous to Isaac having thrown himself upon the 
 mercy of Richard, the latter, who had proceeded by 
 sea to the attack on Famagosta, landed, and finding 
 this town in possession of Guy, marched to the capi- 
 tal, Nicosia, where the inhabitants did not await an 
 assault, but yielded themselves up at once, without 
 striking a blow. The English king insisted upon 
 these people shaving their beard, as a token of sub- 
 mission ; this was all that was asked of them, which 
 they of course did not pretend to resist. The English 
 were now complete masters of the whole island. 
 The emperor a captive at the mercy of the conquer- 
 ors ; his only child and heir in their power ; and the 
 people submissive, Cyprus could be disposed of at 
 the will of Richard. Isaac was kept a close prisoner ; 
 his daughter was given to Berengaria, as her attend- 
 ant, and became, it is believed, her rival ; and the 
 inhabitants of Cyprus were forced to contribute pro- 
 fusely to the expenses of the Crusade. Richard taxed 
 his new subjects to the amount of half their movable 
 
Richard' 's Marriage. 101 
 
 property, and obtained a supply of provisions and 
 stores that contributed greatly to the success of his 
 expedition to the Holy Land. The people of Cyprus 
 were thus enlisted by the conquest of Eichard, not- 
 withstanding their proverbial indifference to the 
 Crusades, among the greatest though compulsory 
 benefactors of the holy cause. 
 
 It was now only a month since Richard's first 
 arrival at Cyprus, and in that short period he had 
 accomplished all these great undertakings. The king 
 now found leisure to fulfill his vows to the beautiful 
 Berengaria, and accordingly he celebrated his mar 
 riage with this princess. The bishop of Evreux, who 
 accompanied the expedition, performed the ceremony, 
 anointed and crowned the bride, and she became the 
 Queen of England, a lofty station, to which her virtues 
 well entitled her. 
 
 The Crusaders were now ready to set out for the 
 Holy Land ; and the king, intrusting the government 
 of Cyprus to Richard de Camville and Robert de 
 Turnham, two of his bravest and most trusty barons, 
 embarked his forces, and prepared to sail for Acre. 
 Messengers had been sent to him from Philip, and the 
 other Crusaders engaged in the seige of that famous 
 city, urging him to hasten his departure from Cyprus. 
 The temper of the king could bear no interference, 
 and he received the messengers with evident marks 
 of irritation. Richard angrily replied that he knew 
 his own business best, and did not want, as he would 
 
102 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 not listen to, any suggestions from the French king 
 who, no doubt, had sent the embassy in order to 
 divert the English from their conquest of Cyprus, the 
 fame of which had reached the Holy Land, and had 
 excited the envy of Philip. 
 
 The Crusaders, however, stood greatly in need of 
 King Richard's aid. The siege of Acre had now been 
 carried on for two years, without effect upon the ene- 
 my. The Christians were still outside the walls, and 
 all their attempts upon the strongly-fortified city had 
 ingloriously failed. The Christian forces had, more- 
 over, during this time, suffered terribly. Those 
 whom the sword of the infidel Turk had spared, were 
 struck down by the vengeance of God. Six hundred 
 thousand human beings (according to some accounts, 
 although the estimate of others is only 150,000) 
 were said to have been destroyed during the two 
 years of the siege, by the enemy and the pestilence. 
 Of these six were archbishops, twelve bishops, forty 
 earls, and the rest of the " meaner sort." The Cru- 
 saders were in great distress ; for, in addition to their 
 fearful losses, they were hard pressed by the brave 
 Saracen leader, Saladin, who occupied the heights in 
 the neighborhood of Acre, and threatened at every 
 moment with his army to overwhelm the weakened 
 and dispirited Crusaders. 
 
 The great King Richard was truly much needed, 
 and he determined now to hasten to the rescue of his 
 brethren of the cross. He accordingly set sail for 
 
A Sail! 103 
 
 Cyprus with all his fleet, the rest of his missing ships 
 which had been dispersed by the storm, having, 
 greatly to the satisfaction of all, put into the harbor 
 in safety, a few days before Richard's departure. 
 
 The ships, after leaving Limesol, coasted along the 
 southern edge of Cyprus, and when they reached the 
 eastern extremity of that island, boldly put to sea, 
 directing their course to the shores of Syria, and first 
 made the land in the neighborhood of Tortosa. They 
 now sailed to the south, hugging the land close, and 
 passing the renowned cities of Tripoli, Biblos, the 
 modern Djobail, and Beritos, now called Beyrout, 
 hove in sight of Sidon, (Saidan,) where they could 
 see in the distance a large vessel lying off that port. 
 The English fleet made directly for her, and, coming 
 up within hailing distance, Richard demanded what 
 she was and whither bound. To which he received 
 the reply that she was a ship belonging to the king 
 of France, and was engaged hi the service of the 
 Crusaders. The king, suspecting that this answer 
 was framed to deceive the English with the idea that 
 she was a friend, and having reason to suppose her 
 to be an enemy, hailed the ship again. At this time, 
 the answer was that she was a Genoese trader, bound 
 to Tyre. 
 
 It became evident, now, that it was an enemy's 
 vessel, trying to escape under false colors, and 
 the English made ready to board her. One of the 
 swiftest galleys of the fleet was dispatched for thia 
 
104 The Lion-Hear ted King. 
 
 purpose, and, making all speed, came within a boat's 
 length of her, when those on board received from the 
 enemy such a discharge of stones and missiles of all 
 kinds that they were obliged to haul off. The 
 enemy's ship then made a desperate effort to escape 
 by means of their oars, (oars being used in almost all 
 vessels in those days,) which they plied with a will, 
 and, although the wind had lulled almost to a calm, 
 so hearty was the pull, and so great the vigor of the 
 oarsmen, that there seemed a fair chance of her 
 escape. Richard looked on with angry impatience, 
 and ordering his own ship in pursuit, succeeded in 
 coming up with the flying vessel, but was repulsed 
 in the same way as the galley. 
 
 The king was driven to an agony of rage, when, 
 with all his attempts, the enemy seemed sure of 
 escape. His famous archers tried their skill, but their 
 arrows struck without effect in the lofty bulwarks of 
 the vessel, or fell down harmless into the sea ; and 
 every attempt to board was repelled by such a shower 
 of deadly missiles, that the attack was about being 
 given up by Richard's men, as hopeless. " What !" 
 cried out the lion-hearted king, " will you let that 
 infidel escape ? Cowards, if you do I will nail every 
 one of you on the cross. Shame ! once more to the 
 attack, and if you master that fellow, all the treasure 
 on board shall be yours." This appeal stirred the 
 flagging courage of his men to desperation, and, com- 
 ing up again with the enemy, some of the sailors 
 
A Capture. 105 
 
 passed a rope around the rudder to prevent her 
 steering, while others clambered up her lofty bul- 
 warks and met the thronging Turks in a hand-to-hand 
 struggle. The Englishmen, however, were repelled 
 and thrown back dead into the sea. Attempt after 
 attempt failed, the men of Richard, at each renewed 
 assault, being bravely met by the Turks, who fought 
 with great courage, and showed no disposition to 
 give up the ship. The enemy now began to use the 
 inextinguishable Greek fire, which, burning upon 
 water, threatened to overwhelm the English ships in 
 a general conflagration. 
 
 Richard, finding it useless thus to sacrifice his 
 brave followers and endanger his fleet, gave up 
 all efforts to board the enemy, and determined, as 
 he could not capture, he would sink the ship. The 
 king accordingly ordered the galleys, which had 
 a sharp iron beak at their bows, to get under 
 full headway with the oars, and force themselves, 
 stem on, against the sides of the ship. Her tim- 
 bers soon gave way, and she began fast to make 
 water and settle down. Those on board, in their 
 never-failing courage, asked for no mercy and received 
 none, but continued desperately to defend their ship 
 as long as she could float, and, when she was going 
 down, plunged into the sea, where all the crew 
 and soldiers, who amounted to nearly fifteen hundred, 
 were either drowned or massacred by their merciless 
 opponents. Thirty-five of the principal officers were 
 
106 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 saved, to whom the mercy of the insatiable conquer- 
 ors was alone extended, that they might grace 
 Richard's cruel triumph. 
 
 The vessel proved to be a Saracen ship of the 
 largest size, carrying stores and troops to the for- 
 midable Saladin at Acre. Her cargo is said to have 
 been made up of more than a hundred camel-loads 
 of arms, crossbows, bolts, lances, arrows, warlike 
 engines of every kind, a great stock of the inextin- 
 guishable Greek 'fire, and glass bottles filled with hun- 
 dreds of venomous serpents, which the Turks intended 
 to use against the Christian crusaders by throwing 
 them into their camp ! The destruction of the ship 
 was, of course, a triumph for the holy cause, and 
 Richard gloried in his bloody victory. 
 
 From the coast of Sidon, which was the scene of 
 this naval engagement, the English fleet proceeded on 
 the same clay, to Tyre, where they anchored for the 
 night, and sailed, next morning, with a favorable 
 wind, and in a few hours arrived in the harbor of 
 Acre, on the 8th day of June, in the year 1191. 
 
 Great was the joy in the Christian camp, on the 
 arrival of King Richard. His fame had extended far 
 and wide, and the Crusaders looked to him as their 
 only hope in their great need. The French king had 
 failed to do them any effectual service, and the sol- 
 diers of the cross still remained before the city of 
 Acre, as they had done for two years, mocked by its 
 infidel inhabitants, and threatened by the army of the 
 
Arrival of Richard at Acre. 107 
 
 great Saladin, which impended over the seemingly 
 fated Christians from the heights of Mt. Carmel, 
 ready to overwhelm them in its merciless torrent. 
 Siege after siege had been attempted against the 
 strong city in vain. The walls were no sooner scaled 
 than the daring invaders were hurled back in death, 
 breaches no sooner opened than they were refilled 
 by the indefatigable Turks, and all trace of the 
 assault washed away in Christian blood. For some 
 weeks previous to King Richard's arrival, the Cru- 
 saders had given up every effort in almost hopeless 
 despair. 
 
 On the approach of the English fleet, which had 
 been observed in the distance preparing to enter the 
 port, the soldiers deserted their camps, and thronged 
 upon the shore, to catch a glance of the great Richard. 
 His prowess was familiar to all ; but there were 
 many who, though his blow had resounded through 
 Christendom, had never beheld that arm of might 
 from which it fell. When the story of the deeds of 
 the renowned hero went the round of the camp, there 
 were those who had seen him in France and Nor- 
 mandy, who would delight to talk of the great 
 Richard, and describe his mighty presence ; his com- 
 manding look and his eye, which struck terror to the 
 heart of his enemy ; his towering stature and stalwart 
 figure ; his long and powerful arms ; his firm seat 
 and skillful horsemanship ; the impetuosity of his 
 onset in the fight ; the might of his blow and the cer- 
 
108 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 tainty of his aim. Nor did they fail to dwell upon 
 his good fellowship with all his friends, whether king 
 or soldier ; his hearty love of a jest ; his convivial 
 enjoyment over a tankard of ale, or a goblet of sack ; 
 and his liberal nature, which led him to spend his 
 treasure with a full hand, and share it with a gene- 
 rous heart. Great was the eagerness to behold the 
 hero ; nor was the heightened expectation disappointed 
 on his arrival. He was welcomed with loud huzzas, 
 mingling withthe sound of the drum and the trumpet, 
 and that day was one, such as had not cheered the 
 weary pilgrims of the cross for many a month, of 
 great revelry and enjoyment in the camp of the 
 Crusaders ; for the mighty Richard had arrived, and 
 his presence was an assurance of safety and a certain 
 promise of success. The peals of merriment which 
 rang out from the happy Crusaders must have tolled 
 an echo of doom within the walls of Acre, and pros- 
 trated the Turks in fear of coming death, as it was a 
 joyous lifting of the hearts of the Christians, in their 
 hope of approaching victory. 
 
 King Richard commenced operations immediately 
 on his arrival. He lost not a moment ; and although, 
 with his true love of fame, he was rejoiced to find 
 that all had been left for him to do, he could not but look 
 with contempt upon the want of energy that had been 
 shown by those who had arrived before him. King 
 Philip was disposed to have hazarded an assault upon 
 Acre, but he failed to obtain the consent of the other 
 
Envy of the French King. 109 
 
 Crusaders, who evidently had not that confidence in 
 the French king that they had in his great rival. 
 
 The English king landed with the greatest dispatch 
 his army and military stores, and set his men to 
 work constructing those warlike engines with which 
 he proposed to batter the walls, to hurl stones and 
 other missiles into the city, and protect the besiegers 
 in an attack. Nor did he spare his own personal 
 efforts, but labored like the meanest common soldier 
 at all the works. 
 
 Although the king of France had welcomed Richard 
 on his arrival with an apparent sincerity, there is no 
 doubt that he was sorely disturbed by the presence 
 of the lion-hearted king. Their old quarrels were 
 still fresh in the remembrance of both, and Philip 
 had new cause of an unfriendly feeling to his rival, in 
 the greater admiration which the fame and character 
 of Richard commanded in the camp of the Crusaders. 
 Until the arrival of the English king, the French 
 monarch was the personage of the highest rank among 
 the Crusaders, and held the supreme authority. 
 With Richard, as king of England, he had to divide 
 whatever was claimed on the score of rank, and yield 
 to him all that belonged to superior genius and 
 greater prowess. 
 
 The French king was secretly ranged, no doubt, 
 from the first, among the enemies of Richard, 
 and with him was associated the Marquis Conrad 
 of Tyre. The latter naturally took sides against 
 
110 The Lion-Hearled King. 
 
 the English king, for Cceur-de-Lion had openly- 
 espoused the cause of Conrad's competitor, Guy 
 of Lusignan, for the crown of Jerusalem. In order 
 to understand this rivalry between Conrad and 
 Guy, we must call to mind the history of the suc- 
 cession to the throne of Jerusalem. Guy of Lusig- 
 nan had married Sybilla, the heiress to the crown, 
 and had thus become possessed of the title of king ; 
 and though the successful invasion of the Saracens, 
 led by Saladin,' had deprived him of his kingdom, he 
 was acknowledged by the Crusaders as king of 
 Jerusalem. His queen, Sybilla, however, died, leav- 
 ing no issue ; but she had a younger sister, of the 
 name of Isabella, who, having married the Marquis 
 Conrad of Tyre, claimed the throne for her husband, 
 while Guy of Lusignan maintained that the royal title 
 could not be alienated, and persisted in his right to 
 the throne. This question divided the Crusaders 
 into two opposing factions, t which seriously embar- 
 rassed the unity of action of the Crusade, and led to 
 many serious obstructions to the holy cause. 
 
 Guy de Lusignan had secured Richard on his side, 
 by his politic visit to the king when at Cyprus. The 
 Flemings, the Pisans, and the Knight Hospitallers of 
 St. John were of the same party. Conrad was, on the 
 other hand, seconded by Philip of France, the Tem- 
 plars, the Genoese, and the Germans. Richard was a 
 host in himself, and by his advocacy of the cause of 
 Guy, gave it the predominancy over that of bis rival. 
 
First Assault. Ill 
 
 The French king, about this time, had serious inten- 
 tions of abandoning the Crusade, and returning to 
 France, where he had ambitious designs of his own, 
 with which he had no reason to fear any interference, 
 and might be thus relieved from the annoying su- 
 periority of his great rival, the king of England. 
 
 A day was now fixed for a vigorous assault upon 
 the hitherto impregnable Acre. Richard had made 
 all his preparations with consummate art, and arrang- 
 ing his engines in a maimer best suited for their effi- 
 cient operations, he led out his forces, ready to begin 
 the attack. Philip, having quelled his envious feel- 
 ings for a while, seconded these preparations with a 
 spirit of generous rivalry, and the French, as well as 
 the other Crusaders, showed themselves eager to 
 support the common cause. The camp was in a state 
 of excitement, fierce for the charge and confident of 
 success. The Crusaders, however, were destined to 
 great disappointment. The English king was sud- 
 denly taken ill, and was carried to his tent and thence 
 to his couch. It was soon discovered that he was 
 suffering from an attack of the pestilent fever of the 
 country, to which his great labors, by night and by 
 day, had predisposed him. He became immediately 
 so prostrated by the disease, that he was unable to 
 lead his brave English to the assault for which he had 
 made so great preparation, and of the success of which 
 he had so confident a hope. The Crusaders were 
 sadly disheartened by this misfortune, and were 
 desirous of postponing the attack upon Acre. 
 
112 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Philip, however, eager to avail himself of this oppor- 
 tunity to steal a march upon the sick king, resolved not 
 to await his restoration to health, but to lead the Cru- 
 saders at once against the city. The Saracens within 
 the walls of Acre became aware of the proposed 
 attack, and, sending a messenger to inform Saladin, 
 who was at the head of his forces, ranged upon the 
 acclivity of Mt. Carmel, this able commander pre- 
 pared for the emergency with his usual spirit and 
 consummate skill. He drew up his army in such a 
 way as to attack the rear of the Crusaders. Philip, 
 ordering the engines to be brought to bear against 
 the walls of the city, commenced the assault with 
 great spirit ; but no sooner had his forces begun to 
 ply the battering-rams and work the catapults, than 
 Saladin bore down Avith a tremendous onslaught upon 
 the rear of the Crusaders. Geoffrey of Lusignan, 
 the brother of Guy, who had been stationed with a 
 considerable force so as to counteract this expected 
 manoeuvre, gave way before the furious charge of 
 Saladin, but calling to his aid some of those engaged 
 at the walls, and performing prodigies of valor him- 
 self, he rallied his troops and recovered his position. 
 Saladin was obliged to betake himself again to the 
 heights of Mt. Carmel ; but his manoeuvre had so far 
 succeeded as to draw off the Crusaders from Acre, 
 and force the French king to cease from his attempt 
 for the present. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE unsuccessful attempt to storm Acre, which 
 we have described in the preceding chapter, 
 was a sad discouragement to the Crusaders, and a 
 heavy blow to the French king. Philip had sought 
 the occasion of Richard's prostrate condition on a bed 
 of sickness, to gain for himself alone the immortal 
 fame of a successful issue to the long siege of the 
 strongly fortified city, which had bid defiance, for two 
 years, to the persevering efforts of the Christians. 
 The French king retired to his tent with his pride 
 deeply wounded; nor was he enabled for some 
 weeks to show himself in the camp ; for, in addition to 
 his humbled spirit, he was laid prostrate by the same 
 fever which now extended the English king upon a 
 bed of sickness. 
 
 In the mean time, however, the restless spirits of 
 the Crusaders were not inactive, and during the illness 
 of the two monarchs, several renewed assaults were 
 directed against the walls of Acre. The besieged, 
 however, had the advantage in all these encounters ; 
 they beat off the invaders time and again, destroyed 
 their engines by means of large stones which they 
 threw over the walls, and set fire to the lofty wooden 
 
114 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 towers, which had been built by the Crusaders to 
 command the town and afford a secure position for 
 their bowmen, from which they might pour down 
 their destructive torrents of bolts and arrows upon the 
 inhabitants. The Turks had a supply of the Greek fire, 
 which would burn upon the surface of water, and the 
 flames of which clung to every thing it touched, until 
 smoke and ashes left nothirg for its destructive grasp. 
 The Saracens poured torrents of this fire over the 
 walls, which drove the besiegers before its burning 
 current, and leaping upon the outworks and spreading 
 its sheets of flame everywhere, wrapped tower and ter- 
 race in ruin. An attempt was made, but in vain, to 
 check the conflagration which ensued. The works of 
 the Crusaders were of wood, and of course easily 
 yielded to the fire. The use of hides spread over the 
 towers and the other structures, which were supposed 
 to resist the flames of the Greek fire, proved of no 
 avail, and the Crusaders were forced to look on in 
 hopeless despair, at the irresistible destruction of the 
 fruit of their long labor. 
 
 Philip soon recovered from his fever, and sought, 
 while the English king was still prostrate — for Rich- 
 ard's attack had been much the more severe, and he 
 was yet unable to move from his couch — to wipe 
 away the disgrace of his former failure by another 
 assault upon Acre. Before the French king was able 
 to bear the weight of his armor, he was abroad in the 
 camp, and was to be seen, in person, at all hours, 
 
Another Attempt on Acre. 115 
 
 directing the works for his renewed attack. The 
 plan he now pursued, consisted in undermining the 
 walls of Acre, propping them up with wooden beams, 
 with the intention, when the assault should begin, of 
 setting fire to the props, with the expectation that as 
 these gave way, the walls would yield and a breach 
 be opened, through which the Crusaders might rush 
 'ipon the devoted Turks. This work was carried on 
 <vith great spirit, and promptly accomplished in the 
 course of a few weeks. 
 
 All now being ready, those who had been sta- 
 tioned with torches in their hands for the perform- 
 ance of the duty, at a given order, set fire to 
 the wooden supports, which, as they burned, yielded, 
 and the wall with them. The Crusaders were 
 now drawn up, with their battle-axes and lances 
 poised, and their bows drawn, eager for the onslaught, 
 watching with anxious hearts the yielding walls. 
 Sad, however, was the disappointment, when it was 
 found that the plan had failed. The walls, instead of 
 falling into ruins and thus opening a breach into the 
 city, merely yielded, sinking into the earth and 
 inclining slightly outward. The impetuous Cru- 
 saders, however, hastily seized their scaling ladders, 
 and planting them against the walls, thronged up to 
 the heights, where the resisting Turks met the rushing 
 multitude with their opposing might, and dashed them 
 off" into the abyss of death. The people of Acre 
 fought with resistless courage, and each ladder raised 
 
116 The Lion-Hearled King. 
 
 to their walls and soldier who mounted it, were 
 hurled to the ground. Alberic, a marshal of 
 France, one of the noblest and bravest of the French 
 chivalry, had sworn that day to conquer Acre or die. 
 He planted his scaling ladder against the wall, and 
 first mounting it, sprung upon the battlement, driving 
 off with his single arm the throng of opposing Sara- 
 cens. His soldiers followed in crowds after him, but, 
 clinging in such numbers to the ladder, broke it by 
 their weight, leaving the brave Alberic to defend him- 
 self, single-handed, against the enemy's host. He 
 yielded up his brave spirit in death to the countless 
 hands of his opponents, having died fighting hopelessly 
 against fearful odds upon the walls of Acre. This 
 cast a great gloom over the Crusaders, for Alberic was 
 one of the bravest knights and noblest gentlemen 
 enlisted in the holy cause. 
 
 We have said nothing of the whereabouts of Saladin 
 and his army during this unsuccessful attack upon 
 Acre. This brave Saracen, as before, led his forces 
 down from his mountain encampment, and attacked 
 the camp of the Crusaders, who, however, being 
 better prepared for him on this occasion, forced 
 Saladin back to his cpiarters without his being able, 
 as hitherto, seriously to harass the rear of the Christ- 
 ian army. 
 
 The Crusaders having ceased their hopeless efforts 
 and given up, for the present, the attempt to storm 
 the city, King Philip withdrew hastily and dejectedly 
 
Recovery of Richard. 117 
 
 to his tent, and now, for a second time, was forced to 
 fret his heart with disappointment. 
 
 Richard now began to recover, much to the en- 
 couragement of the disheartened Crusaders. The 
 spirited king was no sooner able to leave his couch 
 than he busied himself at once with the preparations 
 for trying his fortune against the resisting Acre. 
 There was a lofty tower, which raised its threatening 
 aspect high above the battlements of the city, and 
 which was known by the name of the Wicked Tower 
 from tradition having attributed the expense of its 
 erection to the thirty pieces of silver for which Judas 
 Iscariot had sold his Master. It had hitherto resisted 
 every attack, but the resolute Richard was not to be 
 frightened by the failure of any man, however heroic, 
 who had gone before him ; and he determined to carry 
 the Wicked Tower, in spite of the misfortune of the 
 past and the fear of the present. In order to protect 
 his men while working the battering-rams, he con- 
 structed a large shed, the roof of which he contrived, 
 by some means or other, to make fire-proof, and in- 
 stead of weakening his forces by dispersion, he deter- 
 mined to concentrate their efforts against the Wicked 
 Tower alone. 
 
 The king having completed his shed, then moved 
 beneath it his battering-rams and engines, designed 
 for casting missiles into the besieged city, and for 
 which he had a supply of enormous stones he 
 had brought from Messina in ballast. All being 
 
118 The Lion- Hear ted King. 
 
 ready, the attack commenced, the whole effort being 
 directed against the Wicked Tower. While the 
 miners were busy in undermining the foundations of 
 the tower by their excavations, the battering-rams, 
 which Eichard's plan of concentrating his men 
 afforded an opportunity of applying with unusual 
 power, were driven with great force against the walls. 
 The tower, trembling under these heavy blows, and 
 tottering upon its weakened base, the foundations of 
 which had been sapped, began soon to yield, and, in- 
 clining fearfully for a moment, finally fell over with 
 a crash that resounded through the camp. A breach 
 was thus made, to which the impetuous English 
 thronged, led on by the Earl of Leicester and the 
 fighting Bishop of Salisbury. Richard had sent word 
 to the other Crusaders of his success ; but without 
 awaiting their coming up, ordered the attack. The. 
 fall of the lofty tower had so encumbered the breach 
 with its ruins, that there was great difficulty in clam- 
 bering up to it, and the Turks guarded the entrance 
 with such dogged determination that the fury of each 
 successive onslaught of the English, unsated by the 
 torrents of blood which flowed, and the numberless 
 dead who fell that day in the name of the Holy Cross, 
 was met by their resolute enemy, whose firmness re- 
 sisted every shock, and in whose ranks death seemed 
 to make no gap. As those in front fell before the 
 attack of the Crusaders, others on the instant sprung 
 to their dead comrades' places ; and such were the 
 
Acre Proposes to Capitulate. 119 
 
 ^varrns of devoted Turks within the city, that the 
 English seemed likely to give way from the mere 
 fatigue of slaughter. The struggle, however, con- 
 tinued for a long time with no apparent gain on either 
 side. The Turks now commenced hurling missiles 
 from the walls above upon the English in the breach, 
 and to pour down upon them torrents of the Greek 
 fire, which, deluging the men with its liquid flames, 
 entered the interstices of their armor, and burned the 
 flesh to the bone. The soldiers could not resist this, 
 and were obliged to draw off from the walls. The 
 English had been well seconded by their allies ? the 
 men of Pisa, in their desperate assault ; but Philip's 
 jealous spirit had caused him to withhold his soldiers, 
 and consequently the force engaged was comparatively 
 small. 
 
 The Saracens speedily repaired the breach during 
 the night, and in the morning the Crusaders found 
 that their labor would have to commence again. 
 Richard's resolute spirit, however, never faltered, 
 and he was prepared to begin anew with his resources 
 and courage unexhausted. 
 
 The Saracens, however, were now tired out, and 
 proposed a capitulation. The besieged had been dis- 
 appointed in obtaining supplies. The active watch- 
 fulness of the English and French fleets, which kept 
 hovering up and down the coast, prevented any aid 
 by sea, and Saladin and his forces were cut off by the 
 English camp from affording any relief by land. 
 
120 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 There was one strange incident, the mystery of which 
 has never been cleared up, which greatly interfered 
 with the success of the plans of the enemy. When- 
 ever any thing important was in contemplation by 
 the besieged, the Crusaders were sure to be informed 
 of every particular of the proposed design. Letters 
 attached to arrows were constantly falling into the 
 English camp, shot from within the walls of Acre, 
 which exposed the minutest details of the tactics of 
 the Saracens. The writer was supposed to be a per- 
 son of high rank, for he was evidently informed of 
 what could only be learned by those in authority. 
 The writer stated that he was a Christian, but gave 
 no further information of his history or his position. 
 It was suspected by many that he was some European 
 renegade from his faith, whose heart was still with 
 his countrymen, but his interest with the Turks ; 
 while others imagined that it might be a captive 
 Christian beauty, whose influence over some Turkish 
 dignitary, to whose infidel arms fate had consigned 
 her, wrung from him, in the dalliance of the harem, 
 the secrets of state, which enabled her to communi- 
 cate to those of her own faith the important inform- 
 ation contained in the letters. Every thing, how- 
 ever, was left for ever in the uncertainty of 
 conjecture. The success, through this mysterious 
 source of information, with which the Crusaders were 
 enabled to thwart every plan of the besieged ; the 
 failure of supplies ; the sufferings of the Turks from 
 
Terms Proposed by the Turks. 121 
 
 •want of provisions ; and their terrible losses of :ife 
 from the repeated bloody onslaughts of the Crusaders ; 
 and the great feme of the English king, whose pre 
 sence was & prestige of victory, combined to induce 
 the Saracens of Acre to propose a capitulation. 
 
 The town was under the command of five supreme 
 Turkish officers, who were called emirs. These, 
 together with others in authority, having met together 
 in grave deliberation upon the emergency, and the 
 garrison generally having been consulted, it was de- 
 termined that two of the emirs, of the names of Mes- 
 toc and Caracos, should be delegated to bear to the 
 Crusaders the surrender of Acre, and of all it con- 
 tained, on the condition that the Turks should be 
 permitted to pass out honorably and unharmed. 
 The emirs were admitted to the presence of the 
 Christian mouarchs, and their proposal was listened 
 to graciously by the French king, who caught-eagerly 
 at their offer, and was ready to grant readily all they 
 asked; but the impetuous Richard burst forth in 
 these words : " Do you reckon that I can not take by 
 force what you now offer as a favor \ Behold your 
 tottering walls and towers, and answer me, if it be 
 necessary for you to surrender the town before I 
 conquer it." The English king would accept no 
 such terms as the Turks proffered, and Philip, seeing 
 the determination of Richard, yielded his own com- 
 placent humor to the mastery of the more resolute 
 will of his ally. 
 
122 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 The monarch- mnv in their turn made pro- 
 positions in !>• half of the Crusaders to the emirs. 
 These were to the effect that the true cross, which 
 had fallen into the hands of the Turks, should be 
 restored; that all the territory of the Holy Land 
 in possession of the Latins in the time of the sacred 
 crusade should be yielded up ; and that every Christ- 
 ian captive should be set free. On these terms 
 alone, the. monarchs declared, would the Saracens 
 within the walls of Acre be allowed to depart- in 
 safety. The emirs replied, that they had no autho- 
 rity to agree to any propositions but those first 
 offered, but that they would bear to the Sultan Sala- 
 din the terms proposed by the Crusaders, and that 
 they were ready to use all their influence in obtain 
 ing his consent. They accordingly proceeded to the 
 camp of Salad in on Mt. Carmel, and laying the pro- 
 positions of the Christian monarchs at the feet of the 
 great Sultan, humbly supplicated his compliance. 
 Saladin, however, peremptorily refused, and appeal- 
 ing to the sense of honor of the emirs, proudly asked 
 them, if .they were in his place would they be will- 
 ing to sacrifice Turkish honor for the sake of Acre, 
 however pitiable its condition. The emirs could not 
 deny the justice of the appeal, and sorrowfully took 
 their departure for the doomed city. 
 
 The unknown letter-writer discharged on that 
 night another missive into the camp of the Crusaders, 
 which disclosed to them a proposed attack of Saladin, 
 
Another Attack. 123 
 
 by which the Christians were to be diverted from 
 Acre, that the besieged might have a chance of 
 escape from the city. The march of Saladin com- 
 menced, and the Turks of Acre began their flight, 
 when, much to the surprise of both, the Crusaders 
 were on guard, and prevented the success of 
 either. The Christians were much indebted to their 
 unknown friend ; for the plan of the Turks was inge- 
 niously contrived, and would have been, doubtless, 
 well carried out, had not the Crusaders been timely 
 informed by the mysterious spy in the midst of the 
 enemy. 
 
 The English now renewed their operations against 
 Acre. The walls had been undermined and props 
 placed against them, as was done by the French on 
 a previous occasion, which were now set fire to with 
 a successful result. A large portion of the walls fell 
 with a crash, and opened a breach through which 
 Richard was making ready to lead his men to the 
 assault. The Sarcacens, however, now threw out a 
 signal of surrender, which the English king, anxious 
 to save the bloodshed which must have ensued, 
 signified his intention of answering. Eichard accord- 
 ingly drew off his forces and awaited the arrival of 
 the emirs, who again presented themselves in the 
 camp of the Crusaders, offering the same terms as 
 before, which Avere not accepted. The Turkish 
 officers then proceeded to the camp of Saladin to con- 
 sult with him again in the emergency. The Sultan,- 
 
124 The Lion-Hear ted King. 
 
 now taking pity upon the suffering condition of tho 
 besieged, was disposed to be more liberal in his con- 
 cessions, and offered to the Crusaders to give up to 
 them the holy cross, the City of Jerusalem, and all 
 the cities and castles in Palestine which he had taken 
 after the battle of Tiberias, as well as the Christians 
 he held captive. The conditions he demanded were, 
 that the people within the city of Acre should b<* 
 allowed free egress, and the Christians should aid 
 him in a war against the sons of his predecessoi 
 Nourcddin. The Christians, unwilling to entangle 
 themselves in an alliance with the infidel leader> 
 rejected these propositions, and the emirs again re 
 turned to Acre, overwhelmed with disappointment 
 and sorrow. 
 
 Philip of Prance was now disposed to try his for- 
 tune again, and began an assault upon the besieged ; 
 but this attempt, like his former, resulted in severe 
 loss and disappointment. The English, with their 
 spirited allies, the men of Pisa, now made ready to 
 make another desperate attack. In the mean time 
 Caiaphas, a town situated in the Bay of Acre, was set 
 fire to by the Saracens, and the beautiful vineyards 
 in the neighborhood laid waste. This town was in 
 the possession of the Crusaders, and Saladin had long 
 sought an opportunity of taking or destroying it. 
 
 The English now advanced to the breach in the 
 walls of Acre, and prepared to throw themselves into 
 the city with the resolute determination of taking it 
 
Acre Entered. 125 
 
 or perishing in the attempt. As they approached 
 they were again met by a signal of surrender from 
 the garrison, and on this occasion, the Saracens were 
 less disposed to wrangle about terms, and readily 
 consented to deliver up the city upon conditions 
 satisfactory to the Crusaders. Acre was then deliv- 
 ered up on the twelfth day of June, in the year 1111. 
 The Saracens paid dearly for the ransom of their lives, 
 having given up all their property, even to the arms 
 which they wore, of which they were stripped, and 
 having pledged themselves to return the holy cross, 
 to free fifteen hundred Christian captives, and to pay 
 over two hundred thousand pieces of gold. Some 
 thousands of the Saracens were detained as hostages 
 to secure the fulfillment of these pledges. If Saladin 
 failed in the course of ten days to keep to the very 
 letter of his agreement, the life-blood of these Turk- 
 ish hostages was to be at the mercy of the Christians. 
 The conquerors now entered the famous city of 
 Acre, and at last enjoyed the hard-fought and long- 
 sought conquest, which was hailed by Christendom 
 as a triumph of the cross, and as giving glory to God 
 in the highest, but over the bloody record of which 
 we now shudder and turn away from as history of the 
 dark deeds of demons of earth which must have 
 given enjoyment to their kindred devils in hell. 
 The cruelty and bloodshed in which the warriors of 
 those days delighted, were, in their perverse sense 
 of the Gospel, claimed to be in consonance with the 
 teachings of Christ. But it is too often thus, that 
 
126 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 man serves the devil in the livery of heaven. The 
 taste of the age was for blood and war, and mankind 
 sought to sanction the corrupt passions of their hearts 
 by the doctrines of religion. 
 
 For nearly three years Acre had been besieged, 
 and during that time six hundred thousand Christians 
 are recorded by the old chroniclers to have perished, 
 while we have no account of the myriads of Turks 
 who must have made a fearful addition to this list of 
 the dead. Christendom poured out its blood in a 
 constant stream, which washed the unmoved base of 
 Acre for two years, and with which the thirst of con- 
 quest was never slaked. The treasury of every 
 kingdom of Europe was drained to supply the enor- 
 mous expenses of this holy undertaking. And what 
 was the result of this profusion of blood and wealth 1 
 The casting aside of the eternal laws of Christ, and 
 the winning of the worthless possession of the rotting 
 and doubtful memorial of his sufferings. 
 
 On taking possession of Acre, Eichard established 
 himself in the best house in the place, while King 
 Philip was obliged to take up his quarters with the 
 Knight Templars. The standards of the two monarchs 
 divided, however, equally the honors of the city, and 
 floated in union upon the towers and battlements. 
 The treasure, according to agreement, was to have 
 been divided between Richard and Philip, but the 
 other Crusaders were now properly allowed to have 
 a proportionate share. 
 
Richard and Philip Quarrel Again. 127 
 
 The old quarrels between the French and English 
 kings now began to inflame anew. Philip renewed 
 his demand for an equal division of the English con- 
 quest of Cyprus, basing his claim on the ground of 
 the original treaty with Richard. To which the latter 
 replied that he would willingly consent, provided 
 Philip would also share with him the territory of 
 Flanders, and the treasure which had fallen to the 
 French king on the death of the earl of that province, 
 as well as the city of Tyre, which had been ceded to 
 Philip by the Marquis Conrad. The English king 
 contended that he was as much entitled to a half of 
 these latter possessions as Philip was to an equal 
 division of Cyprus. They had all been acquired 
 since the two monarchs had set out for the Crusades, 
 and solemnly set their seals to the treaty by'which 
 all they became possessed of during the expedition 
 should be equally divided between the respective 
 kings. This question, however, was settled by the 
 arbitration of mutual friends, who decided that the 
 treaty referred merely to territory in the Holy 
 Land. 
 
 We have already spoken of the factions into which 
 the Crusaders were divided on the question of the 
 right to the throne of Jerusalem, and have stated 
 that Richard advocated the claims of Guy of Lusignan, 
 and Philip those of his competitor, Marquis Conrad. 
 In an assembly some time previous to the surrender 
 of Acre, convoked to decide this question, which was 
 
128 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 the source of constant bickerings between the Christ- 
 ians, Guy charged his competitor with having usurped 
 the rights, and made free use of the treasury of a 
 kingdom to which he had no claim. Conrad retorted 
 that he had only exercised his legal privileges as the 
 king by right of his wife Isabella. Harsh words and 
 threats of violence ensued, and the brother of Guy, 
 the bold Geoffrey of Lusignan, took up the quarrel, 
 and, denouncing Conrad as a perjured traitor, threw 
 down his gauntlet to provoke the Marquis to a trial 
 of arms. Conrad turned away from the proffered 
 challenge with a sneer of contempt, as it did not 
 become a boasted king to take up the gauntlet of an 
 inferior. The friends of the Lusignans pretended to 
 consider the conduct of Conrad as an evidence of 
 cowardice, and some of them began to taunt him as 
 he arose to leave the assembly. Conrad, who was a 
 brave man, and whose contemptuous disregard of 
 Geoffrey's challenge was unquestionably due to his 
 sense of rank, and not to any dastard fear of the con- 
 sequences, left the Crusaders, deeply wounded with 
 the insult he had suffered, and proceeding to Tyre, 
 remained there until the surrender of Acre to the 
 Crusaders. Now, by the solicitation of his warmly- 
 attached friend, King Philip of France, he returned, 
 and it was thought expedient to settle at once the 
 much-vexed question, which was so embarrassing to 
 the action of the Christian forces. Richard's deter- 
 mined will, as usual, got the better of his rival's 
 
The French King Departs. 129 
 
 easier temper, and it was agreed that Guy of Lusig- 
 nan should reign during his life as king of Jerusalem ; 
 but as a compromise of the claims of Conrad, it was 
 settled that the latter, if survivor, or his children, 
 should succeed to the throne on the death of Guy. 
 
 hi the mean time, the revenues of the realm were 
 to be equally divided. The advantage was evidently 
 on the side of Guy, for which he was indebted to the 
 overpowering influence of his great advocate Richard. 
 Conrad, however, was the better man, and if merit, 
 not influence, had decided the question, the strong and 
 resolute Conrad, and not the weak and vacillating 
 Guy, would have been king of Jerusalem. 
 
 The French king now came to a resolution which 
 he had long revolved in his mind, that of abandoning 
 the Crusade and returning to France. Philip could 
 not abide the superiority of his great rival, who did 
 not, perhaps, bear his honors as meekly as he might 
 have done. Richard was, by inherent right of genius, 
 the leader of the Crusades. An acknowledgment 
 was everywhere expressed of his supreme qualities, 
 as the great warrior of the age ; and the English king, 
 conscious of his own power, received that deference 
 which he commanded from all as his right. King 
 Philip's envy was vexed by this superiority, and the 
 authoritative air with which it was borne. An old 
 rhymester, Robert of Gloucester, quaintly says : 
 
 " So that King Philip was annoyed there at the thing, 
 That there was not of him a word, but all of Richard the king." 
 9 
 
130 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 The French king, therefore, coming to the resolution 
 to depart, announced his intention to Eichard, who 
 exclaimed with his usual impetuous frankness, which 
 had little care for the nice turning of words, or the 
 gentle phrases of courtesy : " The king of France is 
 my liege lord, but I am bound to say that it will be 
 an eternal disgrace and infamy to him, if he leaves 
 Palestine before he has accomplished the work for 
 the sake of which he came hither. Nevertheless, if 
 he feels himself infirm and weak, or fears to die in the 
 Holy Land, let him go." These contemptuous 
 words in regard to Philip's weakness, had reference 
 to the French king's plea of illness which he had 
 urged as an excuse for his departure. 
 
 When it became known to the Crusaders that 
 Philip was resolved to abandon their cause, they were 
 greatly vexed, and his desertion was considered a dis- 
 grace to France, as it might prove a serious injury 
 to the Crusade. Supplications and entreaties proved 
 vain. The king of France could not be diverted 
 from an act which he had long pondered, and now 
 determined to consummate. All the Crusaders, 
 with the exception of the French, considered him as 
 an unworthy traitor to their cause, and he left the 
 Holy Land with the curse of every true soldier of 
 the cross. The English king, suspecting that he 
 might harbor a concealed purpose of attacking, on 
 his return, England or Normandy, which would be at 
 his mercy, compelled the French king to swear sol- 
 
Quarrel about Prisoners. 131 
 
 emnly that he would not interfere with his rights, nor 
 allow any interference on the part of others, during 
 Richard's absence. 
 
 Philip, to keep up appearances and make a show 
 of some sympathy in behalf of the cause, left ten 
 thousand men to continue the Crusade. The Duke 
 of Burgundy, a brave and experienced warrior, was 
 given the command of these soldiers. The French 
 king, on leaving Acre, set sail for Tyre, where he 
 remained some time with Conrad, who had retired 
 there, as we have already seen, in disgust at the 
 insulting treatment he had received from his oppo- 
 nents in the Christian camp. Philip had claimed 
 one half of the Saracens who had been kept as host- 
 ages for the fulfillment of the treaty with Saladin, 
 and he now led them with him to Tyre, where he made 
 them over to Conrad. Richard was vexed at this 
 proceeding, seeing that he would thus be prevented 
 from keeping his part of the engagement with Saladin 
 as long as the prisoners were not in his power to 
 deliver up at the appointed time ; he therefore sum- 
 moned Conrad to send back the captives without 
 delay. A flat refusal was the only answer returned, 
 and Richard's temper was so greatly disturbed in 
 consequence, that he swore h» would go himself to 
 Tyre and bring the prisoners by force, whether 
 Conrad liked it or not. The Duke of Burgundy, 
 however, interfered, and succeeded in having the 
 prisoners delivered up to him in behalf of the 
 
132 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 absent Philip, and thus the Christians were saved 
 the farther scandal of an open rupture between 
 themselves. 
 
 Thirty clays of the forty agreed upon for the 
 fulfillment of the terms of the treaty between the 
 Crusaders and the Saracens had now passed, and 
 still neither holy cross, money, nor captives came. 
 Eichard became suspicious of the delay, and accord- 
 ingly, within ten days of the whole time allowed, he 
 convoked an .assembly of the chief officers of the 
 Christian forces, in which it was resolved that the 
 Saracen hostages should be destroyed. 
 
 The English king now announced these resolutions 
 to Saladin, reminding him that he had only ten days 
 left for the fulfillment of his pledges, and the salva- 
 tion of his subjects from death. The Sultan answered, 
 " If a hair of any of my men be harmed, I will cut off 
 the head of every Christian in my power." Eichard 
 waited four days, and obtaining no satisfaction as 
 yet to his demands, he drew out his forces from 
 within the walls of Acre and encamped them in a 
 position threatening the Sultan. The latter sent the 
 English king on that day some magnificent presents, 
 and solicited a postponement of the time appointed 
 for the ransom of the Saracen hostages ; but Eichard 
 would listen to no propositions of the kind, and sent 
 back Saladin's messengers and his presents with word 
 to the Sultan, that every Turk in the hands of the 
 Christians should pay the forfeit of his life on the 
 
The Two Massacres. 133 
 
 twentieth of August, the day appointed, if every letter 
 of the treaty was not fulfilled to the utmost, within a 
 minute of the time specified. Saladin no sooner 
 received this message than he dragged out the Christ- 
 ian captives in front of his encampment, and in full 
 view of their brethren and countrymen in the army 
 of the Crusaders, and ordered them to be beheaded, 
 which bloody command was instantaneously obeyed. 
 The Crusaders, aroused to fury by this cruel butchery, 
 sprang to arms on the instant, and rushed upon 
 the Saracens, eager to avenge their murdered fellow- 
 Christians. The Saracens were, however, well pre- 
 pared for the onset, and neither seemed to gain 
 the advantage, and defended themselves so valiantly 
 that the struggle was continued until brought to a close 
 by the darkness of the coming night. The Crusa- 
 ders now glutted their revenge in the blood of their 
 Saracen captives. Five thousand Turks were led 
 out beyond the walls of the city, and three thousand 
 being claimed by Richard as his victims, over whom 
 he had the right of death, and two thousand by the 
 Duke of Burgandy, these brave warriors of the cross 
 proceeded in cold blood to cut off the head of each 
 Turk, so that there was not a single life spared. 
 Nor were the Christians satisfied with the lives of 
 their infidel enemy, but, voraciously pouncing upon 
 the headless bodies and ripping up the bellies, 
 fumbled among the entrails in search of gold and 
 silver that had been swallowed, and of which they 
 
134 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 found a goodly store, and tore out the galls for 
 medicinal uses. 
 
 It was no great stretch, then, for the imagination 
 of an old poet to describe the Crusaders as so many 
 cannibals, hungering for the flesh and thirsting for 
 the blood of the Turk, and voraciously gratifying 
 their appetites for that infidel fare. The Gests of 
 Richard Cmir de Lion, an old " romaunt" in rhyme, 
 describes the English king as being particularly fond 
 of Saracens served up in various ways, boiled, roasted, 
 stewed, or fried. Once upon a time, according to 
 the imaginative author of this old romance, Richard, 
 having fallen grievously ill, which brought him near to 
 death, continued for a long time barely showing any 
 signs of life, until at last, as a first evidence of 
 improvement, he awoke with an intense longing for 
 pork. No pork could be had in all Palestine, so an 
 old knight who dearly loved the king, and had clung 
 to his bed-side night and day, was resolved upon 
 gratifying his lord and master at all hazards. 
 Accordingly, the kind old gentleman goes to the 
 steward, and telling him of the straits he was in, 
 how the king was sick and longed for pork, and 
 how scarce the article was, there being none to 
 be had for love or money, and adding, that if any 
 man should venture to state the fact to the sick 
 Richard he would lose his head for his pains, 
 ingeniously proposed a substitute : " Catch," said 
 the knight to the steward, "a Saracen, young and 
 
King Richard a Cannibal. 135 
 
 fat, let the thief be slain in haste, then open, and 
 his hide skinned off, and when the carcase has been 
 well peppered and spiced, allow it to soak for awhile 
 and then serve up." The order was no sooner given 
 than obeyed. " Slain and sodden was the heathen 
 stew," poetically remarks the ancient poet, and the 
 repast duly served up. The " king ate the flesh and 
 gnew the bones," continues the enthusiastic rhapso- 
 dist, and when he had eaten enough, Richard turned 
 over and slept, 
 
 "And became whole and sound." 
 
 The king had been kept in the dark in regard to 
 the Saracen substitute for pork, but the steward was 
 finally obliged to come to a confession. Richard's 
 appetite soon awakened again, and he ordered the 
 head of the animal he had already so much enjoyed. 
 " Bring me the head !" cried the impetuous monarch. 
 " I have not got it," replied the cook. The king in 
 a rage resumes : 
 
 " But I see the head of that swine, 
 Forsooth thou shalt losen thine." 
 
 The steward had no other alternative but to bring 
 the Saracen's head with 
 
 " His black beard and white teeth." 
 
 Richard exclaimed, "What the devil is this?" and, 
 instead of being angry, quietly remarked that he wa9 
 surprised to find Saracen so good, and had the dish 
 
136 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 set down at once in the regular allowance, and it 
 became a favorite article of diet with the Crusaders 
 generally, and the king particularly. 
 
 There is more truth in the old rhyming chronicler's 
 cannibal imaginings, than in many a more sober page 
 of history. Fiction, though deemed a frivolous thing, 
 often gives us a better insight into the motives and 
 conduct of men than the solid, dry record of bare 
 fact. The light weathercock on the top of the house 
 has its usages,- as well as the solid structure below j 
 as we see by the former how the wind blows, we 
 know when to take refuge from the storm in the 
 latter. 
 
 The conduct of the Saracens and Crusaders in this 
 mutual slaughter of prisoners, was of an atrocity be- 
 yond the power of mere words to picture in all its 
 wicked horror, and to denounce as its wickedness 
 merits. No one w r ho bears a human heart, but will 
 shrink from the frightful scene of blood, and the sense 
 of justice of all good men will instinctively condemn 
 the cruel actors as guilty of the crime of murder. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "TV TOW that the Crusaders were in possession ol 
 J_\ Acre, they were loth to depart. They had 
 found a resting-place, where they might refresh thern 
 selves after their long labors and painful struggles. 
 They had exchanged the fatiguing duties and the rude 
 life of the camp for the easy routine occupation of a 
 fortified town and the luxurious delights of a large 
 city. The comforts of the spacious and well- 
 appointed mansions, the abundant stores of wine, and 
 the society of the beautiful Turkish women, were 
 enjoyments which the crusading warriors appreciated 
 with a fullness of delight that the rarity and the 
 brief indulgence highly augmented. • 
 
 It was not surprising, then, that these impulsive 
 soldiers should have steeped themselves in the 
 pleasures of the city, that they should have indolently 
 lingered within their houses, in the company of the 
 warmly-cornplexioncd oriental beauties, or have 
 lengthened out their banquets with endless draughts 
 of the luscious wines of the East. 
 
 The most veteran knights, whose sinews had been 
 toughened in many an encounter, and character tern- 
 
138 The Lion-Hearted King, 
 
 pered by the discipline and trials of warfare, yielded 
 to temptation, as well as the tender youth, whose 
 elastic limbs had not yet been moulded and stiffened 
 to his armor, and whose unresisting disposition read- 
 ily gave way to the seductions of pleasure. 
 
 City life had produced a perceptible change in the 
 very looks of the Crusaders. The bronze complexion 
 became bleached from retirement within the shades 
 of the house, or of a rubicund glow, from too much 
 indulgence in wine. The vigorous, muscular frame 
 of the warrior degenerated into the fat and bloated 
 figure of the good-liver. The knights would seldom 
 put on their armor, as if the weight was too burthen- 
 some to bear ; and every martial exercise in which 
 they once delighted, was now turned away from with 
 a languid dislike, and a refuge sought in indolence 
 and pleasure. 
 
 Eichard became aware of the necessity of arous- 
 ing the Crusaders from their dangerous inactivity. 
 Although the king's warm impulses made him as 
 eager in the delights of peace as he was impetu- 
 ous in the pursuits of war, he was never so lap- 
 ped in the former as to forget the claims of the 
 latter. He saw that any further delay would so 
 far weaken the character of the Crusaders, as to ren- 
 der them unwilling, if not unable to cope with the 
 Turks, and that thus the great cause of the cross 
 would be hopelessly abandoned, and the Crusaders 
 themselves, perhaps, prostrated at the feet of the 
 
The Crusaders March. 139 
 
 merciless Saracen. Richard accordingly determined 
 to march out of the seductive and dangerous city. 
 
 After the English king had repaired the breaches 
 in the walls which had been made by the successive 
 assaults of the Crusaders, and left a sufficient force to 
 garrison the city, he departed from Acre with a large 
 force. He had no little difficulty, however, in tearing 
 away his knights from the delights of the town, but 
 succeeded, finally, by alternate threats and promises. 
 Richard feared the influence of the gentle sex upon 
 his impulsive followers more than any other tempta- 
 tion, and he accordingly forbid any woman to follow 
 the army, and, by way of example would not allow 
 either Queen Berengaria, his sister Joan, the princess 
 of Cyprus, or, in fact, any of the sex to accompany 
 him. 
 
 It was on the 27th of August that the Crusaders 
 began their march. Thirty thousand men was the 
 full force which Richard led out to continue his 
 conquests in the Holy Land. The Knights Templars 
 formed the vanguard of this gallant army, in which 
 Christians of every country served to fill up the ranks, 
 and the Knights of St. John brought up the rear. The 
 English king himself assumed the command, and 
 the Duke of Burgundy was second to the brave 
 Richard. Saladin was on the alert with his Saracen 
 force, which greatly outnumbered that of the Christ- 
 ians, and he pursued a system of warfare which 
 proved very embarrassing to the crusading army. 
 
140 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Following at some distance with his main body, the 
 Sultan would send out an occasional scouting force to 
 observe the movements of the enemy, and, watching 
 his chance, pounced upon any stragglers he could catch. 
 The march of Richard was along the sea-shore to the 
 south, and as he pursued his tortuous course, the 
 scouts of the Saracen might be observed on the look- 
 out from some turn in the road or pass hi the moun- 
 tains. As the Turks were familiar with the country, 
 and could trust to the mettle of their swift Arab 
 horses, these scouts often ventured quite close to the 
 Christian army, and could bear back to Saladin the 
 most minute detail of the march. The English king 
 was wary in his movements, and, knowing that he 
 was watched by his active enemy, ordered his men 
 into close ranks, and expressly guarded against any 
 straggling, knowing that whoever should be left in 
 the rear would certainly fall into the hands of the 
 Saracens, and be dealt with without mercy. As long 
 as the road continued tolerably straight and wide, 
 every man of the Christian forces remained in safety ; 
 but now they reached a crooked and narrow path 
 through a mountain pass, along winch they were 
 obliged to defile in a long line, and the van of the 
 army was concealed from the rear by a turn in the 
 road. The Saracen, always on the alert, now saw his 
 chance and eagerly caught at it. Richard, who was 
 in front, was allowed to pass unattached ; but the 
 Duke of Burgundy, who commanded the rear, was 
 
The Dangers of the March. 141 
 
 not so fortunate. A large body of Saracens suddenly- 
 sprung upon him from a mountain fastness, and the 
 Duke, encumbered with the baggage, laboring on and 
 struggling with difficulty through the rough and nar- 
 row road, was ill-prepared for the fierce onslaught. 
 The guard which had charge of the baggage was 
 dashed to the ground, and the Saracens plundered 
 without resistance. Those Christians who were 
 somewhat in advance, hearing the cries of the wounded 
 guard, hurried back to the scene and were soon engaged 
 in a fierce encounter with the Turks ; but the latter, 
 well-mounted and fresh, had greatly the advantage. 
 Richard was too far hi advance to come to the rescue 
 at this serious juncture of affairs, but the brave knight 
 William de Barres soon joined the affray and suc- 
 ceeded, by his courage and gallant conduct, in keeping 
 off the fierce Saracens until the king himself, with 
 his brave men, coidd ride up. The Saracens fled at 
 the sight of the mighty Richard, and the army was 
 allowed to continue its march undisturbed. Richard 
 had had a trial of strength with William de Barres, 
 while in Messina, and, after a long-continued hand' 
 and-hand struggle, not succeeding in unhorsing this 
 powerful knight, had, very king-like, taken umbrage 
 at his bold opponent's audacity in proving himself 
 equal to a royal competitor. Richard, who had a 
 generous soul, now forgave William de Barres, and 
 graciously acknowledged his bravery and good service 
 in the dangerous emergency just passed ; and from 
 
142 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 that day the king sought every opportunity, by kind 
 word and friendly act, to compensate the knight for 
 his past want of generosity. 
 
 The army continued its march. The Christians 
 never forgot, in their toilsome and dangerous pro- 
 gress, the great purpose for which they struggled. 
 Their enthusiasm never flagged, but they underwent 
 every labor, and faced every danger, sustained by 
 their religious faith and the belief that they were 
 obeying the precepts of Christianity and adding to 
 the glory of God. We do not learn that the Christ- 
 ians, notwithstanding the sincerity of their opinions, 
 were very devotional in their practices, but a habit 
 prevailed in the army, which showed that some form 
 of public acknowledgment of the religious purposes 
 of their warfare was kept up. Whenever the army 
 halted, all the heralds simultaneously shouted in a 
 loud voice, for three successive times, " Save the 
 Holy Sepulchre!" at which every Christian through- 
 out the army bowed his knee and responded, "Amen!' 
 This was certainly a very brief form of prayer, but 
 we have no doubt it was quite earnest as far as it 
 went. 
 
 Although the enemy kept hovering about the rear, 
 watching an opportunity to take the Christians off 
 their guard, the latter became so circumspect that the 
 army reached Caiaphas without an attack. The 
 course was still to the south, along the coast of Syria. 
 The English fleet sailed down along with the army, 
 
Suffering of Soldiers. 143 
 
 on its light flank, hugging the shore close that it 
 might always be in sight and at hand, while Saladin 
 marched his forces on the left, keeping pretty well 
 in the interior. The next point to which the Crusa- 
 ders directed their march was Coesarea, about forty 
 miles to the south of Acre, although the tortuous 
 road which they were forced to take in consequence 
 of the irregularity of the coast, and the frequent 
 circuits they were compelled to make from the pro- 
 jecting spurs of the mountains, increased that distance 
 fourfold. The soldiers suffered greatly during the 
 journey. The hot climate of the country was espe- 
 cially trying to northern constitutions, and, as the 
 march was generally on the shore, where the men 
 were exposed to the direct rays of a southern sun, 
 reflected back, in all their intensity of heat, by the 
 yellow sand, the suffering was intense. As the army 
 was constantly exposed to the attacks of Saladin, 
 who eagerly watched every occasion for harassing 
 the Christians, it behooved them not to abate a jot 
 in discipline and military exactitude. The conse- 
 quence was, that the men could not seek relief in 
 straggling at their ease, and in putting off the heavy 
 armor, which was a load hard to bear at any time, 
 but especially galling in the excessive fatigue of a hot 
 march. When the soldiers sought a refuge from the 
 sun, which glared angrily upon them on the beach, 
 within the 1 shade of the trees which lined the inner 
 margin of the shore, they proceeded with great difn- 
 
144 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 culty in consequence of the matted vines and close 
 undergrowth which grew in such luxurious abundance 
 in that prolific soil, and hindered their steps, and 
 exposed them to attack without power of resistance. 
 The soldiers submitted to the heat in preference to 
 being entangled, delayed, and fatigued by the slow 
 and toilsome progress in the woods. At night, too, 
 when no longer suffering from the heat, they were 
 worried by another and no less troublesome annoy- 
 ance. Large and venomous ants and other insects 
 abounded, and their bites, almost imperceptible at 
 first, soon inflamed and turned into large ulcers from 
 their poisonous virulence. The Crusaders, however, 
 bore up under all this complication of fatigue, pain, 
 and annoyance with wonderful endurance, and pa- 
 tiently submitted to all the severe military discipline 
 to which they were subjected, and which, although 
 necessary for their security, was hardly endurable to 
 the most patient, under the trying circumstances of 
 that painful march. 
 
 On the arrival of Richard at Ccesarea, he found 
 that the Turks had stolen a march upon him, and had 
 levelled the fortifications and destroyed a portion of 
 the city with fire. The king accordingly encamped 
 on the banks of the Crocodile river, a name, the 
 appropriateness of which he had sad reason to acknow- 
 ledge, for, on the first night of the encampment, two 
 of his soldiers, venturing into the water, were seized 
 by a crocodile and immediately devoured. 
 
Devastation by Saracens. 145 
 
 The fleet, which had sailed down the coast as 
 Richard marched along the shore, now came to 
 anchor. The ships had been freighted with stores 
 for the army, and, as the Crusaders obtained but few 
 supplies during their march, there was need of all 
 they had and more. Richard accordingly, having 
 discharged the stores, sent back some, of the vessels 
 to Acre for fresh supplies of men and provisions. 
 The Saracens, in their progress through the country, 
 burned the towns and smallest villages, and laid 
 waste every field and vineyard, carrying off the pro- 
 duce and driving away the cattle, so the Christians 
 found themselves in a desert land, and were forced to 
 rely almost entirely upon their own stores for sup- 
 plies. This was a serious embarrassment to Richard, 
 and adds another to the many difficulties of the expe- 
 dition, which increases our admiration for the mar- 
 vellous capacity of that great king who could over- 
 come all and bring his plans to a triumphant issue. 
 
 The camp of the Crusaders was much annoyed by 
 the Saracen army, which had accompanied them, at a 
 safe distance throughout the whole route. Saladin's 
 forces now approached with more boldness, as they 
 had been greatly reinforced by additional troops, and 
 supposed Richard's army was worn out and disheart- 
 ened by their fatiguing march, and weakened by want 
 of nourishment, in consequence of straitened supplies 
 of food. 
 
 The Crusaders broke up their camp at Cassarea 
 10* 
 
146 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 and pushed on to Jaffa, the Joppa mentioned in 
 the Bible. The Saracens also marched, clinging as 
 before, to the flank of the Christians. Frequent 
 skirmishes ensued between detached parties of both 
 armies. On one of these occasions a bold Turkish 
 leader, who had the high rank of an emir under the 
 Sultan, led a skirmishing detachment, and bore down 
 upon a portion of the English force. A fleet Arab 
 carried him in advance of his men, and he came 
 down with his turbaned head towering high above 
 his horse, for his stature was gigantic, and with his 
 immense spear, double the size of the ordinary lance, 
 poised in his strong arm as if he would overwhelm 
 in his impetuous course all that opposed him. The. 
 Christian knights prepared for the charge, and met 
 the onset so resistingly with their closed ranks that 
 horse and rider were overthrown in the shock, and 
 the mighty emir, prostrated on the ground, was slain 
 without mercy. Thus fell one of the bravest and 
 most formidable of Saladin's officers. He was a 
 tower of strength in himself, from his immense height, 
 proportionate strength, and impetuous courage. 
 When the troops, which were following, saw their 
 great leader biting the dust, they turned their reins 
 and fled swiftly away. It was foolhardiness for the 
 Saracen horsemen, whose limbs were not protected 
 by armor, and who were forced to depend entirely 
 upon their personal strength, skill, and agility in the 
 saddle, and the swiftness of their steeds, to venture 
 
Diet of Horse-Flesh. 147 
 
 upon a charge against a well-serried rank of knights, 
 full clad in steel, and intently on their guard. The 
 mighty Saracen, rashly trusting to his great 
 strength, had thus fallen a victim to his disregard of 
 the superiority of a knight full cased in armor 
 over an unmailed warrior. 
 
 The march of the Crusaders, who were obliged to 
 leave the shore from the obstructions, was now 
 through a desert country affording no supplies for 
 themselves nor pasture for their horses. The 
 soldiers and the cavalry suffered severely from the 
 want of water. Many of the horses died in conse- 
 quence, and such was the famished condition of the 
 men, that the dead carcases were greedily pounced 
 upon and voraciously devoured. In truth, such was 
 the eager hunger of the men, that they fought des- 
 perately with each other for the dead animals. The 
 king was obliged to interfere, and proclaimed that a 
 live horse would be given to every man who yielded 
 up his dead one for the common good. Horse-flesh, 
 now from necessity, was the main article of diet ; 
 and one of the old chroniclers who records this fact, 
 quaintly says, " that it was not only tolerable food 
 in itself, but with hunger for a sauce, quite delicious/' 
 The Saracens continued throughout to harass the 
 Christians, and from their familiarity with the 
 country were enabled to hide themselves in ambus- 
 cades among the clefts and passes of the neighboring 
 hills, from which they would sally out, and, discharg- 
 
148 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 ing their arrows, immediately retire to their hiding- 
 places in security. The horsemen in the rear were 
 the principal sufferers, but Richard himself, who was 
 dashing along his army on its march, everywhere 
 cheering on Ms men, was wounded by an arrow in 
 his side. It is recorded that so incessant was the 
 discharge of the bows of the Saracens, and so enor- 
 mous the fall of arrows, that there was not a spot of 
 four feet uncovered by these missiles. The Christian 
 army finding a stream, the water of which, however, 
 turned out to be saltish and distasteful, halted at the 
 side of it, and spreading their tents, encamped there 
 for two whole days. 
 
 In the mean time nothing was seen of the Saracens, 
 and the Crusaders were entirely relieved from that 
 annoying system of warfare that had been pursued 
 throughout the whole march. Richard, anxious to 
 learn what had become of the enemy, sent out scouts 
 in every direction to see if they could discover bis 
 whereabouts and the disposition he was making of 
 his forces. The scouts returned with the informa- 
 tion that Saladin was encamped with his whole 
 army on an extensive plain near Assur, and that he 
 was evidently awaiting the coming up of Richard. 
 This intelligence was received with great joy by 
 the Crusaders, as they desired to measure their 
 strength with the great Saladin in a pitched battle. 
 They looked forward to the occasion with perfect 
 confidence as to. the result, although the enemy's 
 
Preparations for Battle. 149 
 
 numbers far outreached their own. The Christians, 
 all told, did not amount to over thirty thousand, 
 while the Turks formed, according to all accounts, 
 at least three hundred thousand. The Crusaders, 
 however, sustained by their religious enthusiasm, 
 and trusting to the skillful leadership of their bold 
 Richard, were ready to fight at any odds, and believed 
 victory, with such a cause and such a leader, as sure 
 an event as the coming sun. 
 
 Orders were given throughout the camp to make 
 ready for the great battle on the morrow, and the 
 humblest soldier, equally with the most noble knight, 
 eagerly desired that the night might speed, and the 
 day arrive on which he could strike a blow for God 
 and victory. 
 
 At an early hour, on the morning of the seventh of 
 September, in the year 1191, the camp of the Crusa-, 
 ders was alive with busy preparations for a march. 
 The whole army was astir under the influence evi- 
 dently of some unusual emotion. There was an intent- 
 ness and alacrity in the performance of duty by each 
 man which betokened more than the ordinary motive 
 for earnest effort. The officers were rapidly galloping 
 to and fro about the camp, minutely inspecting the 
 condition of every department, and eagerly inquiring 
 into the state of each man and his appointments, 
 while the soldiers were hard at work putting in order 
 their arms and equipments. The lancers brightened 
 their spears and sharpened the points with careful 
 
150 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 precision ; the bowmen twanged their bows to test 
 their elasticity or the tension of the cord, and each 
 knight carefully inspected every buckle and joint in 
 his own or his horse's armor. Expectation was alive, 
 and preparation busy, for with the opening of the 
 day had come the prospect of a great battle, and 
 the morning's sun that had risen in heavenly glory 
 might set in a sea of blood. The Crusaders were 
 about to march against Saladin and his army, and 
 test for the first time on a fair field, whether victory 
 belonged to the Crescent or the Cross. 
 
 King Richard had been busy from the earliest 
 dawn, and had ridden the wide circuit of his whole 
 army again and again, looking into the smallest 
 detail of equipment and preparation, and giving the 
 most comprehensive orders for the conduct of the 
 day. Like all great leaders, his mind was not above 
 the minutiae of practical business, as it was equal to 
 the widest scope of thought. 
 
 The trumpets now sounded to arms, and every 
 heart in that brave army beat in sympathy with the 
 martial blast. The lion-hearted king then drew up 
 his forces and disposed them thus : In the van 
 marched the Knight Templars commanded by the* 
 Grand-Master, Robert de Sablay. The centre of the 
 main body the king reserved for himself and his 
 well-tried veterans of England and Normandy. On 
 the right he placed the Danes, the Hollanders, and 
 men of Brabant under the command of the efficient 
 
Plan of Operations. 151 
 
 James d'Avesnes, while on the left the Duke of 
 Burgundy and Leopold of Austria led the French 
 and German troops. The rear was composed of the 
 Knight Hospitallers. 
 
 King Richard now gave the order to march, and 
 as he. proceded and approached within sight of the 
 enemy, eager for the great contest, he observed a 
 movement in their ranks, and it was soon evident 
 that Saladin was withdrawing his forces from their 
 position on the plain. The multitudinous Turkish 
 army moved like a great cloud toward the hills, as 
 if dispersing before the coming sun, and Richard 
 began to suspect that Saladin intended to pursue his 
 old tactics of hanging upon his flanks and annoying 
 him with that skirmishing warfare from which the 
 Crusaders had already so greatly suffered. The 
 king was resolved upon preventing this movement 
 of the Saracens, and his plan was to continue his 
 march, apparently unmindful of the harassing attack 
 of the detached squadrons, until Saladin, emboldened 
 by this manoeuvre of non-resistance, should bring 
 most of his forces to bear where Richard would be 
 ready to strike a blow and force the enemy into a 
 general action. The Saracens, as they moved from 
 the plain, assumed the form of a crescent, and 
 evidently intended, from their position, to bear down 
 upon the left wing. The king, observing the man- 
 oeuvre, sent a detachment of his most trusty forces, 
 under the command of his nephew, the Count of 
 
152 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Champagne, to strengthen this wing, as he was doubt- 
 ful of the French, and suspected the fidelity of the 
 Duke of Burgundy who was at their head. Eichard, 
 in order to .bring to a successful result his plan, strictly 
 ordered that no attack should be made until two 
 blasts of the trumpet, which were to be sounded in 
 each division of the army, were heard, which was to 
 be the signal for the engagement to begin. Whatever 
 might be the provocation from the enemy, this order 
 was to be obeyed at all hazards, for the success of 
 the day depended upon its faithful observance. The 
 army moved on, slowly and deliberately, each man 
 anxiously watching the enemy, who moved in dark 
 masses on the acclivity of the hills, and threatened 
 like a coming storm ready to burst in fury from 
 the black clouds in which it is imprisoned. 
 
 The Saracens now halted for a moment, as if 
 gathering for a charge, and rushed down m an 
 impetuous torrent toward the left of the Crusaders. 
 A body of some ten thousand Turkish horsemen, 
 giving full rein to their horses, and poising their spears, 
 led this attack, and, discharging their weapons into 
 the close Christian ranks, wheeled to the right and left, 
 opening the way for the Bedouin Arabs, the most 
 expert bowmen of the Saracen army, who sent a 
 shower of arrows which greatly annoyed the Crusa- 
 ders and destroyed many of their horses. These 
 sharp-shooters continued to harass the left wing. 
 The Saracen cavalry, coming down in increased force, 
 
Battle of Assur Begins. 153 
 
 bore against the rear and the right. The ranks of 
 Richard kept in close array, forming a solid phalanx, 
 which moved over the field in a slow, compact 
 march, and in accordance with the order of their 
 great leader, shaking off with admirable coolness, 
 and not venturing a blow in return, the attacks of 
 the enemy, who hovered about the solid body of 
 Crusaders with their lances and arrows, like myriads 
 of flies thickening the atmosphere, and darkening the 
 light, and striving by their irritating stings to drive 
 some noble animal to fury. 
 
 Saladin finding that his skirmishing squadrons 
 could make no serious impression upon the close and 
 well-disciplined ranks of the Christians, whose com- 
 pactness was such, says an historian of the times, 
 that an apple falling among them would have been 
 sure to strike either man or horse, he prepared to 
 make an onset himself. Accordingly, calling back 
 his skirmishers, which were baying like an endless 
 pack of eager hounds about the flanks of the Crusa- 
 ders, and gathering together the whole force of his 
 cavalry, led them to the attack in person. The Sul- 
 tan, surrounded by his emirs and the flower of the 
 Moslem warriors, came on in full speed, followed by 
 an immense troop of horse, and drove right down 
 upon the rear of the Christian army, plunging their 
 spurs into their horses' flanks as if urging the noble 
 animals to some desperate leap, and dashing with all 
 the weight and fierce impetuosity of rider and horse 
 
154 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 full upon the close ranks. The Hospitallers, who 
 formed the rear guard, sustained the shock with 
 great firmness and courage, but in spite of their 
 steady resistance, many were borne down by the fierce 
 encounter and trampled to death, while others, who 
 were only unhorsed, recovered themselves and strove 
 to keep up with their comrades who, more fortunate, 
 still held their seats in the saddle. It was severe 
 work for these knights in heavy armor, who had lost, 
 their horses, to be obliged to run along the field on 
 foot. Richard's order w r as still obeyed, and his 
 army had borne every charge of the enemy without 
 returning the attack. The Knight Hospitallers now 
 became impatient and fretted angrily at the disci- 
 pline which forced them to a restraint they had never 
 exercised when set upon by the infidel enemy. 
 Patience, although a Christian virtue, had never been 
 the distinguishing quality of those religious brethren. 
 Their duty was to strike, not to suffer for the cross, 
 and they had ever been foremost in the onset. Their 
 impetuosity had never given them a chance of per- 
 fecting themselves in defense, a modest element of 
 warfare, which the generalship of the great Richard 
 taught them was often as effective as the more showy 
 and attractive attack. The Hospitallers were infuri- 
 ated beyond endurance by what they thought the 
 insolent presumption of the infidel, and burned to 
 revenge themselves. They accordingly ventured 
 upon sending word to the king that they could no 
 
Richard' 's Tactics. 155 
 
 longer abide his orders, and must punish the insolence 
 of the Saracens. Eichard entreated them still to 
 check their ardor for awhile, an entreaty which they 
 reluctantly yielded to until the Saracen horsemen 
 began to single out the knights and dash at them 
 with their drawn scimitars as if throwing down a 
 challenge for personal encounter. No Hospitaller 
 had ever turned away from such a provocation to his 
 chivalry, and his bold heart welled up with indignation 
 too full for restraint. The whole body then resolved 
 that they would no longer abide this agonizing 
 non-resistance, and Godfrey de Duisson, the Grand- 
 Master of the order, rode up to Eichard and 
 announced the determination of the Hospitallers. 
 The king was yet unwilling to issue the order to 
 charge. He was bent upon his plan of withholding 
 his first blow until the whole Saracen force had been 
 drawn within his power, when he hoped to strike 
 with such effect as to paralyze the audacious spirit of 
 the Saracen for ever. 
 
 Such was the state of the two opposing armies ; 
 Eichard marching on in solid phalanx, unmoved and 
 unresisting, and Saladin with his countless host, rest- 
 lessly dashing about, now trying to shake and scatter 
 the massive array of the Crusaders by an impetuous 
 rush of his cavalry, and again hovering at a distance 
 with his lancers and Arab bowmen, and pouring tor- 
 rents of spears and arrows upon the devoted Christ- 
 ian troops, with an attempt to irritate them tQ a 
 
156 The Lion-Hear ted King. 
 
 fury which, overleaping the bounds of discipline, 
 might carry them in impetuous confusion into the 
 flood of Saracens, in which Saladin hoped to over- 
 whelm them by his greater numbers. 
 
 At last, before Richard had yet given the order, 
 two of his most impetuous knights, the Marshal of 
 the Hospitallers and a Norman baron, of the name 
 of Baldwin de Comero, unable to contain themselves 
 any longer, for they were among those in the rear 
 who had borne the brunt of these annoying attacks 
 of the Saracens, fiercely drove their spurs into their 
 horses' flanks, and sprung from the ranks right into 
 the midst of the enemy. They were soon hid from 
 the sight of their friends by the thronging Turks, 
 who were bent upon crushing them by their weight 
 and numbers. The war-cry of these Christian 
 knights was, however, heard above the din of the 
 galloping horses and the clashing of arms. Godfrey 
 de Buisson, catching up the resolute shout, reechoed 
 it, and exclaiming, " Come what may, we must not 
 leave our brethren to fight unaided or die una- 
 venged," sprimg to the rescue, followed by the 
 undaunted Knights of St. John. The action now 
 became general. The brave Earl of Leicester led on 
 the well-tried English to the charge at once, while the 
 right wing of the army, under the command of the 
 bold d'Avesnes, and the left, under the youthfid 
 Henry of Champagne, joined with resistless ardor. 
 The shock from the centre was terrific. The Saracens 
 
The King of Assur. 157 
 
 recoiled and tried to wheel round, hoping by this 
 manoeuvre to avoid the crushing effect of the irre- 
 sistible charge of the Crusaders; but the Turkish 
 forces, taken by surprise, were gathered in such a 
 confused multitude, that the desired movement could 
 not be effected. The Saracens, disappointed in their 
 manoeuvre, were now obliged to receive the attack 
 in all its terrible force, and the result was dreadful. 
 Thousands of their horsemen were dashed from their 
 saddles, and either killed by the first blow of the 
 lances of the knights, or slaughtered by the men on 
 foot, who followed in the bloody work of the cavalry, 
 and completed the work of death that had been' so 
 fearfully begun. 
 
 The king, who had hitherto kept himself in reserve, 
 directing the manoeuvres of his army with wondrous 
 coolness and generalship, now clashed into the thick- 
 est of the fight, followed by his boldest Norman 
 knights and trustiest Englishmen, who composed a 
 portion of the main body. Richard's work that day 
 was marvellous. Trusting to his own powers and 
 personal strength, he dashed his' horse — it was his 
 favorite Cyprus charger — wherever the Saracens 
 thronged thickest or the fighting was the hardest. 
 His mighty arm, wielding the famous battle-axe of 
 English steel, soon cleared the way, and striking 
 down all that opposed, now on the right, and now 
 on the left, made a wide passage through the dense 
 ranks of the Siracens, wherever the fierce king went, 
 
158 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 leaving nothing but the dead to encumber his bloody 
 progress. Richard settled the day by his prowess, 
 seconded by his own brave subjects, who com- 
 posed the main body of the army. The Saracens 
 opposed to Richard and the centre of his army, could 
 resist no longer, and fled to the hills pursued by the 
 English and Normans. 
 
 The left wing had not been so successful, and the 
 Burgundians, who formed a large portion of it, had 
 been turned by the. Turkish cavalry, but the Ger- 
 mans coming to the rescue, the men of Burgundy 
 rallied, and the two, charging together, put the 
 enemy to flight. The right wing, from the first, made 
 a successful charge, and would have had reason to 
 have congratulated itself upon the success of the day, 
 had it not been its misfortune, as in fact that of the 
 whole army, to lose that brave soldier and able 
 leader, James d'Avesnes. This knight's impetuosity 
 carried him far ahead of his men into the midst of 
 the Saracens, and although he gave a good account 
 of himself by his acts of desperate valor, he was 
 overpowered by numbers and wounded in the thigh. 
 This wound, though severe, and bleeding profusely, 
 did not weaken his nerve or dull his spirit, but he 
 fought on with unabated energy, and had nearly suc- 
 ceeded in clearing himself from the crowd with which 
 he was struggling, when he received a blow from 
 one of the many hands raised against him, and fell to 
 the ground. He had been carried in the swaying of 
 
The English Standard in Danger. 159 
 
 the struggling combatants toward where King Eich- 
 ard was fast clearing a way of safety for his brave 
 knight and deeply-loved friend, but sunk before they 
 reached each other. D'Avesnes, however, was suf- 
 ficiently near to be heard by his royal master, and 
 turning his face toward Eichard, said with his dying 
 voice, "Brave king, avenge my death!" Eichard 
 faithfully obeyed the dying injunction, and soon cov- 
 ered the bloody corpse of his brave friend with a 
 heap of the slain enemy. 
 
 The Crusaders pushed their advantage by continu 
 ing hi pursuit of the flying Turks to the mountains, 
 where they sought refuge in the passes and fastnesses. 
 The ardor of the pursuers carried them beyond the 
 bounds of prudence, and they came near suffering 
 a loss, which would have been deemed, in those 
 chivalrous times, an indelible stain upon their glory. 
 The standard of the English king had been planted 
 on the battle-field under the guard of a very small 
 body of Norman and English. A considerable force 
 of Saracens, who had not been in the heat of 
 battle, came up at a moment that the Crusaders 
 were at the distance in eager pursuit of the enemy, 
 and struck a blow for the English standard. The 
 brave guard gallantly defended themselves, and kept 
 the Turkish tigers at bay for a considerable time, 
 but would have been obliged at last to have yielded 
 in the unequal struggle, had not the bold French 
 knight, William de Barres, returning with some of 
 
160 The Lion-Hear ted King. 
 
 his men from the pursuit, come up and beat off the 
 Saracens, and sent them to follow the steps of their 
 fugitive comrades. 
 
 Nor were the Christians, even now, although they 
 had so completely defeated the Saracens, free of 
 annoyance from the skirmishing parties. Although 
 the Turks had proved, on that fatal day, on the plain 
 of Assur their total inability to cope with Richard 
 on a fair field, they could still, by their knowledge 
 of the country, and the swiftness of their Arab 
 horses, keep up with effect that guerilla warfare 
 in which they so much excelled. Accordingly, on 
 the very night of the battle, while the Crusaders 
 were fixing their tents, a fresh body of Saracen light- 
 horse sallied out from an unexpected quarter and 
 charged, at an unguarded moment, upon the camp 
 of the Crusaders. The king, aroused by the noise, 
 sprang to his horse, and followed only by fifteen 
 knights, rushed into the melee, and shouting, " God 
 for us and the Holy Sepulchre !" struck such terror 
 into the Saracens that they fled precipitately. 
 
 The Crusaders now retired to their tents, wearied 
 with fatigue and sated with the glory of the day. 
 The victory they had won was one of the greatest 
 in the military annals of ancient or modern times. 
 Richard had proved himself not only the brave 
 knight but the great general. With a force, the 
 tithe only of his enemy, he had, by his skillful tactics 
 and manoeuvres, gained a great victory over greatl) 
 
The Great Victory. 161 
 
 superior numbers, whereas, if he had trusted merely 
 to the personal strength and undaunted courage of 
 his men, he would have been sure to have been over- 
 whelmed. 
 
 That thirty thousand Crusaders should have victo- 
 riously struggled against and driven from the field 
 three hundred thousand Saracens, seems too marvel- 
 lous for the sober record of history, yet history 
 justly claims it as a truth which no one can refuse to 
 acknowledge. To Richard's military genius was the 
 great victory solely due, and when we study the 
 exhibition of its power, in the able conduct of that 
 day, on the battle-field of Assur, we no longer 
 marvel at the magnitude of the result, but contem- 
 plate with wonder and admiration the man who 
 effected it. 
 
 The loss of the Saracens in that great battle was 
 twenty thousand, according to the best authorities, 
 although others make a lower estimate. The fight- 
 ing began in the morning and continued until night- 
 fall. The Christians lost but few, and among them 
 the only man of note was James d'Avesnes, while the 
 Sultan left thirty-two of his great officers of the rank 
 of emirs dead on the field. 
 
 11 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE Saracens had retreated from the battle-field 
 of Assur in great disorder, but in a few days 
 succeeded in gathering together from their various 
 places of refuge. They had been so dispersed by 
 their helter-skelter flight, and were so fearful of 
 their pursuers, that they widely straggled from 
 each other, and hid themselves in the most re- 
 mote and inaccessible fastnesses of the hills. On 
 the thronging together again of his scattered forces, 
 Saladin convoked an assembly of his chief officers 
 and men of authority to resolve upon the plan of 
 action for the future. The Sultan did not attempt 
 to conceal the impression the great blow of the 
 Christians had made upon him. He had now for 
 forty years been a warrior, and hi almost every 
 battle during that long life of warfare, had been a 
 victor, and he confessed that such a defeat he had 
 never before suffered, nor in his long and glorious 
 career of conquest inflicted. His ablest generals and 
 his officers of state showed by their emotions and by 
 every word they uttered, that they felt, like their 
 Sultan, the whole weight of the blow. Terror had 
 evidently struck to the hearts of all, and every one, 
 
Arrival at Joppa. 163 
 
 rf-om Saladin to the meanest Turk, trembled for the 
 safety of Palestine. Neither the brave Saladin, nor 
 the most daring of his officers thought for a moment 
 of venturing a second time in open conflict with the 
 formidable Richard. It was now proposed to divide 
 the Saracen army ; that one half should be led by 
 Saladin to the fortified city of Ascalon, with the 
 view of either defending it against the expected 
 assault of the Christians, or so dismantling and 
 demolishing it as to make it not worth the attempt, 
 and that the other half of the forces should be left 
 under the command of the Sultan's brother, Malek- 
 al-Adel, to watch the manoeuvres of the Crusaders. 
 These propositions were acceded to, and the plan of 
 operations adopted accordingly. 
 
 Richard, after remaining in his encampment on the 
 battle-field for two days, marched on the third to 
 Jaffa, the Joppa of the Bible, of which he took pos- 
 session. The fortifications of this city had been 
 destroyed by the Saracens, but the place was well 
 supplied with provisions, and the rich vineyards and 
 fields of the fertile country in the neighborhood 
 offered an abundance of luscious fruit and corn. Joppa 
 rvas, we might say is, for it is the same town under the 
 modern appellation of Jaffa, situated on the coast of 
 Palestine, about twenty miles from Jerusalem. The 
 position of the city is most beautiful, looking sea- 
 ward to the west, and surrounded on every other 
 point by a picturesque country, varied by hill and 
 
164 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 vale. The valleys are fertile and well-cultivated, and 
 the mountains, verdant at their base with the luxuri- 
 ant growth of that warm climate and generous soil, 
 gradually rise into the colder strata of the atmo- 
 sphere, where the trees grow less frequent and the 
 foliage more scant, until finally the acclivities becom- 
 ing bare and desolate, they terminate in a summit of 
 snow, or in a fierce outburst of volcanic flame. The 
 vine, the olive, and the fig are cultivated, and supply 
 an abundance of luscious product. There was much 
 in the city of Joppa, although laid waste by the des- 
 tructive sweep of the Saracens, with its abundance, 
 the products of its fields, and the fruits of its vine- 
 yards and gardens, its picturesque position, amid the 
 contrasting beauties and sublimities of nature, its 
 warm climate, gently tempered by the moist breath 
 of the Mediterranean, its voluptuous eastern women, 
 inclined to pleasure and society, to tempt the wearied 
 Crusaders to the indulgence of indolent ease and 
 luxurious enjoyment. The warriors again, as at 
 Acre, threw off their heavy armor, lengthened out 
 their fatigued limbs, and unbent their cramped 
 sinews in the soft repose of leisure and wantonness. 
 Let us, however, return to Saladin, who had now 
 reached Ascalon, where he was deliberating upon the 
 proposed plan of destroying its fortifications. The 
 long siege which had been undergone by the Saracens 
 at Acre, with its sufferings and futile result, was too 
 fresh in the remembrance of the besieged to permit 
 
Ascalon Destroyed. 165 
 
 them to view as practicable another attempt to sus- 
 tain a fortified town against the impetuous and yet 
 patiently-continued assaults of the Crusaders. The 
 feeling of the army was opposed to another siege, 
 and strongly in favor of the expedient of destroying 
 the city of Ascalon. Saladin, however, was loth to 
 be guilty of this barbarism, and exclaimed, with a 
 burst of agonized emotion, to Bohaddin, the Arabian 
 historian, who accompanied the Sultan in his expedi- 
 tions, " By Allah ! I would rather see all my sons dead 
 before me, than pull down one stone of that noble 
 city ; but since it is his will, and necessary for the 
 safety of the Moslem, let it be done !" The order 
 was given, and the destruction of the city begun. 
 Ascalon was in those days one of the most important 
 towns on the coast of Palestine. It was there that 
 the Mohammedan Egyptians were wont to gather in 
 communion with those of the same faith from Jeru- 
 salem, and the place was deemed the connecting link 
 between the two people. 
 
 The Crusaders at Joppa heard of this destructive 
 act of Saladin, but could not believe that the Sultan 
 would thus overthrow in ruin one of his strongest 
 citadels and fairest cities. Eichard, doubting the 
 intelligence received through the escape and arrival 
 in Joppa of some of the inhabitants of Ascalon, 
 determined to seek more trustworthy information. 
 He accordingly ecpiipped one of his swiftest galleys 
 and sent her to cruise down the coast and approach 
 
166 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 as near as possible to Ascalon. Guy of Lusignan 
 was commissioned by the king to go in her and 
 report his observations. On his return, he confirmed 
 all that had been stated by the fugitive towns-people 
 of Ascalon. On hearing this, a council was held at 
 once to deliberate upon an act in which the Crusaders 
 felt themselves so deeply interested. The council 
 were, with the exception of a single dissentient voice, 
 all in favor of remaining at Joppa, since, as they 
 urged, it was only thirty miles from Jerusalem, and 
 conveniently situated for preparing to march against 
 that holy city. King Eichard's' was the dissentient 
 voice, and he proposed a different policy, the bold- 
 ness of which was in conformity with his brave 
 spirit. 
 
 " Let us march at once," he said, "against the infidel 
 Turks, and, driving them from the walls of Ascalon, 
 save the city which they have doomed to destruction. 
 When they hear of our coming, they will not have 
 time to turn a stone, but will need every minute to 
 make ready to escape from our vengeance." 
 
 This spirited proposition was borne down by accla- 
 mation in favor of the more timid plan. According to 
 the Arabian historians, had Ascalon been taken pos- 
 session of by the Crusaders at that time, Saladin, so 
 greatly was he discouraged by his late defeat, would 
 have probably abandoned all his conquests and even 
 yielded up Jerusalem itself. The English king's pro- 
 position would have been the most politic, as it was 
 
The French Recreant. 167 
 
 the boldest, and proved his military capacity as it 
 did his lion-hearted courage. 
 
 It was now proposed, in accordance with the 
 determination to remain in Joppa, to repair its dis- 
 mantled walls and towers. Richard had now full 
 opportunity of judging of the sincerity of those who 
 had so strongly urged the advantages to the Crusade, 
 of remaining where they were. Orders were given 
 to commence operations on the fortifications, and the 
 advocates of the plan were expected to set to work 
 with spirit. All, however, seemed loth to begin, and 
 what they had unwillingly commenced, they were 
 reluctant to continue, and the important work was 
 neglected. The delights of ease and the enjoyments 
 of the town were now clearly the chief motives of 
 Richard's opponents. The Duke of Burgundy, who 
 had been among the most determined of these, and 
 the French under his command, showed themselves 
 most averse to labor, and yielded with less restraint 
 to the dissipated life at Joppa. Several of the knights, 
 with a recollection of their former enjoyment at Acre, 
 went back there, drawn by the seductive charms of 
 their sweethearts, who dwelt in the tender corners 
 of the hearts of these fierce warriors, not altoge- 
 ther hardened by all the trials of a long and bloody 
 campaign. 
 
 Richard was greatly troubled by this relapse of his 
 army into their former habits of indolence and dissi- 
 pation. He now struggled to raise his warriors out 
 
168 The Lion-Hear fed King. 
 
 of this slough of wanton indulgence. The king 
 made a journey to Acre purposely to bring his 
 recreant knights to their duty, and succeeded in 
 bringing most of them back to Joppa. He brought 
 also with him the Queen Berengaria, his sister Joan, 
 and the princess of Cyprus. 
 
 Richard was exceedingly fond of the hunt, and as the 
 forests and plains in the neighborhood of Joppa afford- 
 ing him a full opportunity for his favorite sport, he 
 frequently indulged himself in the company of a 
 small band of his favorite knights. Nor were these 
 sports of the field unaccompanied with danger, 
 which seemed to add an additional attraction to the 
 king, in affording his love of hazardous adventure 
 frequent chance of gratification. On one occasion 
 Richard, with his falcon on his wrist, rode out in a 
 group of a few knights to take a turn at hawking, 
 in which he greatly delighted. The day was hot, 
 and the sport more than usually good, and the 
 king, with his wonted ardor, had entered into it with 
 great spirit, but having ridden hard, became exhausted 
 with heat and fatigue. He accordingly dismounted, 
 and throwing himself under the shade of a spreading 
 tree, was soon wrapt in a sound slumber. The 
 Saracens were about at their old mischief of skirm- 
 ishing and looking out for stragglers, and a large 
 troop, passing by, spied the king. In order to 
 approach without exciting the attention of the 
 knights and awakening Richard, they walked their 
 
The King Nearly Captured. 169 
 
 horses gently through a neighboring wood, and were 
 just upon the sleeping king and hie careless knights, 
 ready to pounce upon them and make an easy cap- 
 ture, which would have redounded to their glory for 
 ever, and given them an opportunity of making the 
 acceptable offering of a royal prisoner to their lord 
 the Sultan. 
 
 One of the Saracen horses, however, was startled 
 at the sight of the strange warriors in their dash- 
 ing hunting suits, and the noise of its plunging 
 among the under-growth, attracted the attention of a 
 knight, who aroused the king from his heavy sleep. 
 Richard sprung to his horse, and had hardly lifted 
 himself into his saddle, when the Saracen horsemen 
 were within the reach of his arm. The king, always 
 ready, drew his sword and struck down the foremost, 
 when the others fled for their lives and Richard after 
 them, shouting with great glee, for he gloried in such 
 adventure, more even than in his favorite pursuit of 
 hawking. He had not galloped far when another 
 body of Saracens suddenly appeared from an ambush 
 of thickly-set trees, and set upon the king and 
 knights. The Saracens tried to dismount them by 
 pulling them from their horses, and although they 
 found this no easy matter, they bid fair for success 
 in the attempt by force of numbers. The king, 
 although known to be among the group of knights, 
 was not personally recognized by the Saracen horse- 
 men, and their purpose was to cany them all off tc 
 
170 Tlie Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 make sure of the royal prisoner. "While struggling, 
 William de Pratelle, a knight of Provence, seeing 
 the danger of his royal master, cried out, with a 
 generous self-sacrifice, " Stand back, Infidel Turks 
 that ye are, I am the king." The Saracen horsemen 
 then all at once surrounded De Pratelle, and making 
 him prisoner, rode off in great glee, abandoning the 
 others. Thus was Richard and the cause of the 
 Crusaders saved by the noble devotion of the knight 
 of Provence. It was impossible to rescue the cap- 
 tive, for only two or three knights were left able to 
 mount their horses, four having been killed and 
 others Abounded in the struggle. The generous Wil- 
 liam de Pratelle was at the earliest moment restored 
 to freedom by the interposition of Richard, who 
 never forgot a friend, nor failed to compensate an act 
 of devotion by his lasting gratitude. 
 
 The works at Joppa went on slowly, and the demo- 
 ralization of the Crusaders increased. The knights 
 and soldiers yielding more and more to idleness and 
 enjoyment, became languid and averse to duty. The 
 king determined to enkindle the war spirit again 
 among his followers, and accordingly drew out his 
 forces from the city, and encamped them. The rude 
 life of the camp, with its severe discipline and 
 soldier's fare, the king knew would soon invigorate 
 the strength and revive the old spirit of his men. 
 The site chosen for the camp was between the castles 
 of Planes and Macy. The?e had been partly demol 
 
A Skirmish. 171 
 
 ished, and hard work was here in store for some of 
 the Crusaders, who were set to repairing them. 
 Richard kept others busy by sending them out on 
 expeditions to obtain supplies by ravaging the coun- 
 try around. They occasionally met with the Sara- 
 cens on these free-booting excursions, with whom they 
 had frequent bloody encounters. 
 
 On one occasion a foraging party made up of 
 Knight Templars sallied out for the purpose of 
 obtaining a supply of fodder for their horses. They 
 had reached a fine field of grass in the neighborhood 
 of the Castle of Macy, and had cut down a supply 
 which they were gathering into bundles ready to 
 carry off, when a large body of Turkish horsemen 
 came upon them, while they were off their horses, 
 engaged in their work. The knights formed them 
 selves, while on foot, in close array, and prepared 
 to defend themselves, resolved to sell their lives at 
 the heaviest price their courage could command. 
 The odds were fearfully against them. The Saracens 
 amounted to over four thousand, well armed and 
 equipped, while the Templars were a mere handful, 
 dismounted, and provided merely with their short 
 swords. At the first attack of the Turks, three 
 Templars were struck down and slain, and the 
 survivors had to struggle in a hand-and-hand con- 
 flict with the overpowering numbers of the enemy. 
 A small body of some fifteen of their order came up 
 at this moment to the rescue, and valiantly struck a 
 
172 The- Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 blow for their comrades. The foremost of thr 
 Saracens were made to bite the dust by the first 
 shock of the gallant band, but this advantage, od 
 the part of the Templars, was but temporary. The 
 immense throng of the Turks, which supplied dozens 
 for every man slain, was irresistible. King Richard, 
 from the lofty tower of the neighboring Castle of 
 Macy, espied the tumult, and could hear by the 
 shouts, and see by the clouds of dust that a desperate 
 encounter was going on. " What have we there ?" 
 said the king to a knightly companion by his side. 
 " Some Templars at blows with the infidels, and 
 methinks the Turks are like to have the better of 
 the day," answered his attendant. Richard did not 
 much like the Templars, for that order affected an 
 air of superiority over his own knights, and had 
 sided with Conrad against the king's party. "Would 
 that they were other than those holy rebels," 
 resumed Richard, " but I must to their rescue, for 
 it shall never be said I forsook a brave knight in his 
 peril." So the king hastened to put on his armor, 
 and in the mean time sent the brave English Earl of 
 Leicester to their aid. This operation of putting on 
 armor was a tedious affair, and before he was ready 
 a messenger hurried to him with word that the 
 Templars and the Earl were being overborne by 
 the host of Turks. So, without more ado, Richard 
 mounted his horse, and shouting, " St. George ! St. 
 George ! to the rescue !" spurred into "the thickest 
 
A Plot Discovered, 173 
 
 of the struggle. Laying about him with his usual 
 vigor, and springing upon the leader of the enemy, a 
 noble emir, to whom he had cleared a way through 
 his thickly-set guard, unhorsed him by a single blow, 
 and the Turk laid dead on the ground. The rest of 
 the Saracens now turned their horses' heads and 
 fled. 
 
 Such was no uncommon incident, and the Crusa- 
 ders had ample opportunity for the like exhibitions 
 of their valor, as we have just recorded. The knights 
 gloried in such adventures, and sought every occasion 
 for the trial of their powers. The king himself was 
 always foremost in these encounters, and only 
 laughed at the constant entreaties of his friends, 
 who urged him not to expose his valuable life. 
 These feats of personal daring were bruited through- 
 out Palestine, and the people heard with wonder of 
 the great prowess of Richard and his brave knights, 
 who assumed, in their oriental imaginations, the 
 marvellous character of avenging spirits, invulnerable 
 to all human means of attack. 
 
 A negotiation, calculated to affect seriously the 
 interests of the Crusaders, was now disclosed. It 
 will be recollected that Conrad was the disappointed 
 competitor for the throne of Jerusalem. Although 
 he apparently gave in his adherence to the arrange- 
 ment that was decided upon by the Crusaders, he 
 was evidently a disappointed man, and had retired to 
 Tyre, after the departure of his chief friend and 
 
174 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 advocate, Philip of France, to brood over his wrongs 
 and plot for the establishment of what he contended 
 was his right. Conrad now sent a messenger to 
 Saladin, who, having completed his ruin at Ascalon, 
 had retired to Ramula, which was directly in the 
 course of the Crusaders, should they take up their 
 march for Jerusalem. Conrad's messenger was 
 authorized to make a proposition to the Sultan to 
 this effect : that if the latter would secure to the 
 former the possession of Tyre, Sidon, and Berytus, 
 (Beyroot,) he, Conrad, would declare at once against 
 the Crusaders, and give his aid, if required, in driving 
 them out of the Holy Land. Saladin listened to 
 this proposition with a favorable ear, and was dis- 
 posed to accept it, but while negotiating with Conrad, 
 a greater than he, King Richard himself, had his pro- 
 posals to offer for a treaty with the infidel. 
 
 This is certainly a new era in the history of the 
 Crusades, where we find the Christian and the infidel 
 entertaining propositions for treaties of alliance. 
 Richard proposed, as the basis of a treaty of peace 
 with Saladin, the cession of Jerusalem and that part 
 of Palestine between the sea and the river Jordan, 
 and the giving up of the true cross. Saladin dis- 
 patched his brother Saphadin, (Malek-a] Adel,) 
 who had, as we have learned, the command 
 of one half of the Saracen army, to treat with 
 Richard in person. They could not agree, however, 
 on terms, and the negotiation was broken off. The 
 
Courtesies betioeen Turk and Christian. 175 
 
 feeling, however, between the two monarchs had 
 greatly changed; Richard and Saladin mutually 
 admired each other, and in their common chivalry 
 forgot their differences of religion. The Sultan had 
 always shown a gallant courtesy toward his great 
 antagonist, and while Richard was prostrate with 
 a raging fever hi the camp before Acre, Saladin had 
 sent him stores of the fruits of the country, the 
 luscious plums of Damascus and juiciest pears and 
 peaches, and various oriental luxuries, among which 
 was the pure snow from the summits of the 
 mountains, with which to cool his sherbet and 
 other refreshing beverages. The king highly appre- 
 ciated these courtesies, and, moreover, admired 
 the Sultan for his bearing on all occasions as a 
 gallant enemy. This increasing good will between 
 the monarchs led to an assuagement of the horrors of 
 the war they were waging with each other. At first 
 no quarter had been given by the Christians or 
 Turks ; whoever fell into their power was mercilessly 
 butchered; but now a more humane system pre- 
 vailed, and prisoners were treated with forbearance 
 until exchanged or otherwise delivered up. 
 
 The brother of the Sultan did much by his courtesy 
 and his diplomatic skill in strengthening the mutual 
 regard of the antagonistic but chivalrous monarchs. 
 Richard was so far won over, that he absolutely con- 
 ferred the honor of knighthood upon a son of Sapha- 
 din, which greatly excited the indignation of the 
 
176 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 religious knights, who had little sympathy with 
 Richard's broader views and more liberal spirit. 
 
 The great king did not stop here ; he astounded all 
 Christendom by offering his sister Joan in marriage 
 to Saphadin. This Christian lady heard the proposi- 
 tion with horror and religious dismay, and declared 
 that she would resist, at all hazards, the unholy em- 
 braces of an infidel Turk. The Christian knights 
 with one accord approved her spirit and piety, and 
 swore by all .that was holy that they would support 
 her resolve with their swords. The king was obliged 
 to yield. The Sultan had concurred at once in the 
 proposed marriage, and his brother was in nowise 
 averse to taking to his Moslem arms a Christian 
 woman, who, though no longer very young, was still 
 attractive. All hope, however, of negotiation was 
 now abandoned, in consequence of the spirited resist- 
 ance of the pious Joan, and the fierce threats of the 
 Christian knights. Richard had more of the policy 
 of the statesman than of the superstition of the 
 devotee in his composition, and, guided by worldly 
 wisdom, if not by heavenly charity, thought calmly 
 of conciliation when his fanatic followers raved 
 fiercely for persecution. The humanity of peace 
 promised to bless the politic plans of the king. The 
 inhumanity of war was the certain result of the 
 fanatic determination of the Crusaders. Richard, 
 now finding his pacific views overruled, resolved to 
 push on the campaign with spirit, and accordingly 
 
March to Jerusalem. 177 
 
 marched toward Jerusalem. The Crusaders first 
 reached Ramula, the Arimathea of the Bible, about 
 thirty miles from Jerusalem, and thence proceeded to 
 Bethanopolis. Here the Crusaders determined to 
 make a stand, and resisted Richard's earnest desire 
 to push on at once to Jerusalem, and make himself 
 master of the holy city. The king was thus thwarted 
 in all his plans, whether of peace or war. He was 
 always in advance of the other leaders of the 
 Crusade, and as without him they could have done 
 nothing, without them he could have done much more. 
 It was now the season when the rain poured down 
 almost incessantly for months, and it was accordingly 
 urged by the Templars and Hospitallers that the 
 exposure of the army during a lengthened siege in 
 the rainy season of winter, would be disastrous to the 
 health of the soldiers. The king unwillingly yielded 
 and gave the order for a retreat to their old quarters 
 at Joppa. 
 
 The winter was now passed in this city, and during 
 its long inactivity, a spirit of insubordination fer- 
 mented among the unsettled characters of the 
 Crusaders. During an active campaign, when dan- 
 ger threatened, Richard was the great centre of hope, 
 about which the bright chivalry of Christendom crys- 
 tallized, giving united firmness and splendor to the 
 common cause ; but now, in the torpidity of winter 
 quarters, when no menaced peril stirred the general 
 mass, each restless leader frothed upon the surface, 
 12 
 
178 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 and resisted the attraction of Richard, the great cen- 
 tral nucleus of the Crusade. 
 
 The Dukes of Burgundy and Austria were the 
 foremost of these uneasy spirits, who now showed 
 their restlessness under the authority of the king by 
 opposing every proposition he offered, and thwarting 
 every plan he devised. Richard was for marching, 
 now that the rainy season was over, directly upon 
 Jerusalem. The Dukes of Burgundy and Austria 
 strenuously objected, and substituted a plan of their 
 own : this was to march to Ascalon and build up the 
 fortifications of that city, although these same men 
 had vehemently ojDposed the former proposition of 
 Richard, to proceed thither and drive away the 
 Saracens before they had accomplished its destruc- 
 tion. Now that, however, it was in complete ruins, 
 and the work of fortifying it would be tenfold more 
 arduous, these factious leaders urged the taking pos- 
 session of Ascalon. Their motive was evidently only 
 the most contemptible spite and violent envy of the 
 noble Richard. 
 
 When the order was given to march, the soldiers 
 were almost ready to resist in open rebellion. They, 
 to a man, were in favor of the spirited expedient of 
 storming Jerusalem at once, and had such a horror 
 of the temporizing policy of a march to Ascalon, that 
 they murmured their discontent so palpably, as to 
 alarm the leaders with the danger of open resistance. 
 The French soldiers, under the command of the Duke 
 
Arrival at Ascalon. 179 
 
 of Burgundy, now grumbled against the expedition, 
 though proposed by their own commander, and many 
 of them deserted and enrolled themselves under the 
 standard of Conrad at Tyre. 
 
 Richard, however, always resolute in completing 
 what he had begun, showed the example, himself, of 
 intrepid faithfulness to duty, and urged his followers 
 to do likewise. Notwithstanding the disaffection of 
 the troops, the scanty supply of provisions, the 
 inclemency of the weather, and much sickness, the 
 army was led to Ascalon, where it arrived early in 
 January of the year 1192. 
 
 The Crusaders were at once busily engaged m 
 the reconstruction of the fortifications of the city. 
 The king showed a good example by working in 
 person at the masonry, and he was followed by the 
 noblest princes and bravest knights, as well as by the 
 most renowned ecclesiastics, bishops, priests, and 
 clerks, who all set to work like common laborers. 
 The Duke of Austria, however, was too superb to 
 engage in this humble occupation, though the king 
 of England had shown him the example. This 
 absurdly magnificent noble replied, when Richard 
 urged him to lend his aid to the labor in which 
 king as well as common soldier was earnestly en- 
 gaged, that he was not the son of a carpenter or of 
 a mason, and that he would put his hand to no such 
 vulgar business. The king is said to have been so 
 disgusted with this paltry exhibition of ducal mean- 
 
180 The Lion-Hear ted King. 
 
 ness, that he contemptuously kicked his grace of 
 Austria, and sent him, as well as his vassals, neck 
 and heels out of the town. Eichard had nad an old 
 quarrel with this Austrian duke, who was impudent 
 enough to hoist his own standard upon one of the 
 towers of Acre, after the Christians took possession, 
 although he was the last man, on the score of merit, 
 who had any right to such an honor. The king had, 
 very properly, torn down the standard and cast it 
 into the ditch, for which the Duke of Austria never 
 forgave him ; and his grace, in consequence, nursed a 
 grudge against Richard, which he took the first safe 
 opportunity of gratifying. Such was the spirit in 
 which the work at the fortifications was carried on, 
 that Ascalon soon presented its former appearance. 
 
 The Duke of Burgundy, like his master, Philip of 
 France, had always been disaffected toward Richard, 
 and now an occasion occurred which brought them 
 to an open rupture. The duke called upon the king 
 for a loan, which was refused on the ground that the 
 French had already been liberally supplied. His 
 grace of Burgundy, who only sought a fair excuse 
 for a quarrel, pretended to take umbrage at this, 
 and accordingly left the king in great dudgeon, 
 and departed with most of the French troops for 
 Acre. The Pisans and Genoese had wintered there, 
 and as they always were at variance with each other, 
 this close proximity and the temporary cessation of 
 hostilities with the enemy, gave them an excellent 
 
Pisans and Genoese. 181 
 
 opportunity of indulging in their enmity to each 
 other. The Pisans were warm adherents of the 
 English king, and had, with him, espoused the cause 
 of Guy of Lusignan, while the Genoese attached to 
 Philip of France, had joined him in the advocacy of 
 the cause of Conrad. In addition to this cause of 
 disagreement there were the political difficulties 
 which they brought with them from home. When 
 the Duke of Burgundy and the French reached Acre, 
 the Pisans and Genoese were drawn up in battle 
 array on a plain before the city ready to decide by 
 the sword the quarrel which had so long agitated 
 them. The French joined the Genoese at once, 
 who hailed their arrival with loud acclamations of 
 joy. The Pisans, however, who were brave soldiers, 
 and cared little for the French or the Genoese, com- 
 menced the attack, and in the first impetuous 
 onslaught put the Genoese to flight, and unhorsed 
 the Duke of Burgundy, who, together with his 
 French, was fain to follow his allies. The Pisans 
 then took their position within the walls of Acre, 
 and, closing the gates, prepared to sustain a siege. 
 Conrad was now called from Tyre to the aid of the 
 Genoese, and, in nowise loth, gathered his forces 
 and hastened to Acre, which he attempted to take by 
 storm. The Pisans sent word to their friend King 
 Richard, and while he was coming to the rescuo 
 defended themselves with great gallantry. As soon 
 as Conrad and the Duke of Burgundy were mad© 
 
182 The Lion-Hcarted King. 
 
 aware of the approach of the formidable Richard, 
 they hastily abandoned the siege, and fled in their 
 ships to Tyre. On the arrival of the king the diffi- 
 culties between the Genoese and the Pisans were set 
 at rest. 
 
 The Saracens finding that the Crusaders would be 
 unprepared to engage in direct hostilities for some 
 time, had disbanded for the winter and repaired to 
 their homes, with an understanding that they should 
 gather again in the month of May under the standard 
 of Saladin and be prepared to carry on hostilities 
 against the Christians with renewed vigor. 
 
 Richard had now returned to Ascalon, where, while 
 his own faithful Normans and Englishmen had sped 
 with the works on the city, the French, following 
 their king's and the Duke of Burgundy's example, 
 indolently held back from their duty, and when 
 the king had returned, expressed their desire to 
 abandon the Crusade. The emissaries of Conrad 
 had been busy during Richard's absence, and had 
 easily persuaded these disaffected persons to join 
 the standard of the Marquis at Tyre. The king did 
 not resist their desire, but seemed anxious to get rid 
 of such useless and troublesome allies. " Go, but- 
 terfly soldiers," said the king, contemptuously, " and 
 I will send with you a body-guard lest such summer 
 warriors as you are may come to harm by the 
 way." They left with the contempt of every brave 
 man in Ascalon. Richard having completed the for 
 
Fortifies the Coast. 183 
 
 tifications of this city, directed his energies toward 
 the other towns and castles which had been dis- 
 mantled, and constructed a chain of fortified posts 
 from Acre to Ascalon. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WHILE Richard was meditating the coming cam- 
 paign against the Saracens, to which he, in 
 spite of manifold difficulties from desertion, the dis- 
 couragement and wasting away of his forces, looked 
 forward with never-failing fortitude ; while the great 
 king, confident in his resources, in his own capacious 
 mind which conceived a remedy for every difficulty, 
 and in his own untiring courage which never hesitated 
 to apply it ; while the Christian monarch in imagina- 
 tion, which in the self-reliance of his genius was but 
 the anticipation of reality, was planting the cross 
 upon the towers of Jerusalem, and inviting all 
 Christendom to fall down with himself and his 
 devoted followers in worship at the tomb of God 
 the Saviour ; while Richard, as soldier in battle, 
 as victor in triumph, and as Christian in prayer, was 
 thus passing in his palace at Ascalon the hours of 
 declining day which invite to reverie as varied as 
 the changing light, he was startled by the announce- 
 ment of the arrival of a messenger from England. 
 The current of the king's thoughts changed at once, 
 and his features, which had settled to the calm of 
 
NEWS FHOJt ESTGL'AN] 
 
News from England. 185 
 
 meditation, were ruffled into the disturbed expression 
 of anxious impatience. 
 
 The Prior of Hereford entered. He came hur- 
 riedly into the royal presence, with that abrupt man- 
 ner which showed that business, not ceremony, was 
 uppermost in his mind. He bore letters from Eng- 
 land, which the king caught at with a quick hand 
 and eagerly read. They bore the signature of the 
 Chancellor, the Bishop of Ely, and gave Eichard 
 ominous intelligence of his kingdom. Prince John 
 was acting the traitor, wrote the bishop, and was 
 striding fast to the throne where he bid fair soon 
 to fix himself a usurper of his absent brother's 
 crown, unless Richard himself should return at once 
 and vindicate his rights ; so imminent was the 
 danger, emphatically added the Chancellor, that with 
 all haste it might even then be too late to escape it. 
 
 This was a severe blow to the king. He had left 
 his kingdom in full confidence of its security, and 
 with the most trusting faith of his brother's love 
 and devotion to his interests. Richard had thus 
 devoted his whole soul to the cause of the cross in 
 the Holy Land, and had bent all his energies toward 
 securing its triumph. With all the cares with which 
 his career was beset in Palestine, the thought of 
 the possibility of treason hatched within the shrine 
 sacred to affection — in his own home — in the heart 
 of a brother — never distilled its gall into his cup of 
 bitterness. 
 
186 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Richard was sorely perplexed. He must new 
 either leave his kingdom a prey to treason or abandon 
 the cause of the Crusaders to other and less capable 
 hands. That the danger of the former was imminent, 
 the earnest appeal of the bishop left him not a 
 ground for doubt. That the latter was full of risk 
 he knew from the state of feeling among the Crusa- 
 ders, and the formidable power of the enemy. The 
 factious disorganization of the Christian army, with 
 Conrad, the Duke of Burgundy, all the French, and 
 a large portion of other leaders and soldiers of vari- 
 ous nations gathered at Tyre, disaffected, on the one 
 side, toward the king, his knights of Normandy 
 and men of England, and some scattering forces 
 from other parts of Christendom, on the other, 
 was such as to give Richard the most anxious 
 fears for the future. If he were gone, this dis- 
 affection would probably be inflamed into open 
 hostilities, and the Christian world shamed by 
 enmity with itself, before the very eyes of the infidel ; 
 and exposed alike to scorn and to ruin. Richard 
 felt himself, as he was acknowledged by all, to be 
 the Achilles of the cause of the Crusade, and if he 
 were lost to it, he feared that all hope of the con- 
 quest of the holy city would also pass away. The 
 king, however, resolved to return to England. 
 When this announcement was made to his army, 
 great was the tribulation. His warriors thronged 
 about him, and clinging to his feet besought him, as 
 
Prepares to Depart. 187 
 
 he was their only hope, to stay until the holy city 
 might be taken. Deeply moved as Richard was, 
 he was forced, by his duty to his own country, to 
 refuse all their entreaties. His own feelings, he said, 
 were with the Crusaders and their cause. To raise 
 the standard of the cross upon the towers of Jerusa- 
 lem, and drive away the, scorner and infidel from 
 the sepulchre of our Lord, had been the dream 
 of his boyhood and the well-assured hope of his 
 manhood. Now to be forced to abandon, perhaps 
 for ever, the holy city to the heathen profanations 
 of the Turk, agonized his heart almost to bursting. 
 
 Richard now called an assembly of the chief men 
 of his army to deliberate upon the important question 
 of appointing his successor. The king had always, 
 since his arrival in Palestine, advocated the claims of 
 Guy of Lusignan in opposition to Conrad. This had 
 disaffected the marquis toward him, and had cooled 
 that nobleman's ardor in the cause of the Crusades. 
 Conrad, however, was much abler than Guy, and in 
 fact, was the man whom undoubted courage and 
 acknowledged capacity pointed out as the proper 
 successor to the English king. 
 
 The question was submitted by Richard to his 
 nobles, he telling them that there were two candi- 
 dates, one of whom they were to choose, and that he 
 left them freely to select him whom they deemed 
 the best to command the army. Conrad was chosen 
 by acclamation. The king had anticipated the re- 
 
188 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 suit, and concurred in it with a heartiness that showed 
 he approved of the choice. Henry of Champagne, 
 the nephew of the king, with a number of the princi- 
 pal nobles, was commissioned to bear to Conrad, at 
 Tyre, the announcement of his election, and the 
 invitation of Richard to meet him at the earliest 
 moment at Ascalon, to arrange about the succession 
 and the approaching preparations for the campaign. 
 On the arrival of the ambassadors, and the announce- 
 ment of their mission, Conrad was pleased beyond 
 measure. He was no less surprised, for such had been 
 the feeling of enmity between him and Richard, that 
 he never expected this, act of generous conduct from 
 his old opponent. The people of Tyre received the 
 intelligence with great enthusiasm, and hailed their 
 ruler, already in their aspiring imaginings, as the con- 
 queror and king of all Palestine. This joy and this 
 enthusiasm, however, met with a sudden disappoint- 
 ment, and were turned to sadness and wailing by 
 the death of Conrad. 
 
 Conrad was returning from a dinner with the 
 Bishop of Beauvais, where, receiving the congratula- 
 tions and the enthusiastic welcome of his host and 
 the noble guests, joy and hilarity had ruled the feast. 
 Conrad left on horseback, attended only by a few of 
 his personal friends, and had nearly reached his 
 residence when two Assassins glided from behind a 
 pillar, and suddenly coming upon him, plunged each a 
 dagger deep into his heart, and the unfortunate noble- 
 
Assassination of Conrad. 189 
 
 man fell and died without a struggle. The companions 
 of Conrad struck down one of the Assassins, but the 
 other fled to a church. The body was conveyed to 
 the same building, and placed near the altar, when 
 the Assassin who had taken refuge there issued 
 from his hiding-place and plunged another dagger 
 deep into the lifeless corpse, as if he would make 
 assurance doubly sure. The priests and attendants 
 were horror-struck at the audacious sacrilege of the 
 murderer, and some of the latter seized him. The 
 Assassin was then submitted to the torture, and not- 
 withstanding the cruel trials of the screw and the 
 fagot he never uttered a word, but died in torment 
 without disclosing the motive or the instigators of 
 this dark tragedy. 
 
 In the centre of Persia, and also in Syria, at Ala- 
 in ut, in the former country, and at Massiat, in the 
 latter, were splendid gardens, veritable Eastern 
 paradises, surrounded by strongly-fortified walls, 
 to be approached only through mountain-passes ac- 
 cessible to the initiated alone, which were guarded 
 by lofty towers and protected by draw-bridges and 
 the threatening portcullis. 
 
 These gardens were intersected with winding 
 streams, the banks of which were shaded by groves 
 of palm, through which stretched paths now hid 
 in a depth of green, and again opening upon prospects 
 of thick beds of ever-blooming roses, which filled the 
 soft atmosphere with sweet odors and wrapped the 
 
190 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 senses in an ecstasy of luxurious delight. There 
 were vineyards revelling in the clustered abundance 
 of the purple grape, and rejoicing in the fantastic 
 and graceful forms of the vine, with the ever- varying 
 curves of its supple branches and its curling tendrils, 
 to which the gentle breeze gave a movement like the 
 dance of young girls. There were far-extending 
 orchards weighed down with luscious fruit. Avenues, 
 overhung with trees which interposed a cool shadow 
 by the intermingling of their foliage above, and 
 exhaled from their aromatic breath an atmosphere 
 of exhilarating odor, led to palaces, the exterior of 
 which, perfect in architectural proportion and beauty, 
 shone in all the splendor of pure white marble, 
 varied in tasteful skill by the rich malachite and 
 other rare stone from the quarries of the East ; 
 while the pavements of the passages in the interior 
 were inlaid with ingenious designs in artful mo- 
 saic, or tesselated with variegated marbles, and 
 cooled by fountains. The foot stepped ankle-deep 
 in Persian carpets which adorned the chambers, 
 while from the lofty walls hung silken damask of 
 Arabesque or fantastic pattern. Drinking-vessels of 
 gold and silver, overflowing with iced sherbets, glit- 
 tered upon trays of pure crystal. Charming maidens, 
 black-eyed and seductive as the houris of Moham- 
 med's paradise, reclined upon soft cushions, and 
 invited to pleasure. Playing on the harp, these 
 beauties intermingled music with the songs of birds 
 
The Assassins. 191 
 
 and the murmur of the fountains. Every thing 
 breathed pleasure and voluptuous rapture. 
 
 Amid such a scene of beauty and delight dwelt 
 the prince of the Assassins. A youth whose strength 
 and resolution was deemed worthy, having been 
 chosen for initiation into the order, passed through 
 the rugged ascent to the gates; the novitiate now 
 being blindfolded was led into the presence of the 
 prince. He was then intoxicated with the haschish, 
 the opiate which is extracted from the Eastern hemp ; 
 and the bandage being removed, he was conducted 
 out through the halls and into the gardens. His eyes 
 were now first awakened to the charms we have 
 attempted to describe, and his senses, a hundred-fold 
 more acute from the stimulating influence of the has- 
 chish, were steeped in all that could delight the sensi- 
 bility and excite the rising passion of youth. The 
 young man soon sank into a state of lethargy from 
 the influence of the opiate, and while in this state was 
 carried back to the prince ; when he awoke he was 
 told that he had been translated to Paradise, and had 
 enjoyed a foretaste of the bliss promised to the faithful 
 who devote their lives to the service of the prince of 
 Assassins. Such was the initiation of a novitiate into 
 the order of the ITashashins, (whence the modern 
 word Assassins is derived, so called from the drug 
 Haschish, which bore so important a part in the cere- 
 mony,) who struck terror into the world for centuries. 
 Marco Polo, the great Venitian traveller, verifies, in 
 
192 The Lion-Hear ted King. 
 
 every particular, the account we have given, and 
 which agrees with that of the oriental writers and 
 historians. 
 
 The prince of the Assassins was generally kno^ii 
 to the Crusaders as the Old Man of the Mountain. 
 Although there were two chief stations, each pre- 
 sided over by a head, a prince, or as he was termed, 
 " Old Man of the Mountain," one in Persia and 
 another in Syria, it is the latter who is generally 
 alluded to in the history of the Crusades. One of 
 the best accounts we have of the terrible order of the 
 Assassins comes to us from two Christian bishops, 
 who had an interview, in 1172, with an embassy 
 from the chief. From this we learn that the Assas 
 sins were formerly the strictest observers of the laws 
 of Mohammed, until a Grand-Master, of genius and 
 erudition, and intimately, say the would-be pro- 
 selyting ecclesiastics, acquainted with the Christian 
 tenets and doctrines of the Gospel, abolished the 
 Mohammedan prayers, annulled the fasts, and 
 allowed all, without distinction, to drink wine and 
 eat pork. The fundamental rule of their religion 
 consisted in blind submission to their chief, by which 
 alone they could obtain eternal life. This lord and 
 master resided in the Persian province lying beyond 
 Bagdad. At Alamut, which was the name of 
 this place, young men were educated in secret 
 tenets and pleasures, and well instructed in various 
 languages, and then sent armed with their daggers 
 
The Assassins Everywhere. 193 
 
 throughout the world, to murder Christians and 
 Saracens without distinction ; either from hatred, as 
 being enemies of their order, or to please its friends, 
 or for the sake of a rich reward. Those who had 
 sacrificed their lives in the fulfillment of this duty 
 were adjudged to greater happiness in paradise, as 
 being martyrs ; their surviving relatives were loaded 
 with gifts, or if slaves, set at liberty. Thus was the 
 world overrun by these young tigers, who, devoted 
 to murder, issued joyfully from their lair to execute 
 the bloody commands they had received. They dis- 
 guised themselves in various ways; sometimes as 
 monks, as soldiers, or as merchants, and at others as 
 beggars. They appeared in such a variety of shapes, 
 and conducted themselves with so much caution and 
 secresy, that no destined victim could escape their 
 daggers. They aimed at no small game; but the 
 great, the noble, and the wealthy were the objects of 
 these sworn Assassins. At the time of Richard's 
 conquests in the Holy Land, this terrible order had 
 existed for five hundred years, and was supposed to 
 number no less than sixty thousand. The retreats 
 of the chief, in the mountains, were impregnable, 
 whence issued the dread command to murder, and 
 the obedient satellites were everywhere, with their 
 thousand hands upon their poinards, ready to strike 
 the blow of death. 
 
 • Of the implicit obedience of the Assassins to their 
 rulers we find recorded some remarkable examples. 
 13 
 
194 The Lion-IIcarted King. 
 
 An eastern sultan having sent his ambassador to the 
 founder of the order to require his obedience and fealty, 
 the latter summoned several of the initiated into his 
 presence. Waving his hand gently to one of them, 
 he said, " Kill thyself," and he on the instant plunged 
 a dagger into his own heart; to another, "Throw 
 thyself down from the rampart;" the command was 
 hardly given when he fell, a mutilated corpse, in the 
 moat. The prince of the Assassins then turning to 
 the ambassador, who was trembling with fear, said, 
 " Seventy thousand of my faithful subjects obey me 
 thus. Be this my answer to your master." 
 
 Henry, Count of Champagne, King Richard's 
 nephew, on one occasion visited the Old Man of the 
 Mountain in his fastness at Massiat in Palestine. 
 The prince of the Assassins having heard that Henry 
 was in Armenia, sent to him, requesting a visit on 
 his return from that country, assuring him of a 
 hearty welcome, as he had long desired to see him. 
 The count replied he willingly accepted, and accord- 
 ingly went. When the prince of the Assassins was 
 informed of the approach of Henry, he went out to 
 meet him, and receiving him with great courtesy and 
 show of respect, accompanied him back through his 
 fortresses and gardens to one of his castles. This 
 castle was surmounted by lofty turrets. At each 
 look-out stood two guards clothed all in white, which 
 was the dress of the initiated. Then said the 
 prince of the Assassins, " Sir Count, your Christians 
 
The Devotion of the AsSctssins. 1$5 
 
 will riot do for you what my men will for me." 
 " Sir," replied the count, " that may well be." 
 Whereupon the prince gave the word, and the two 
 men in white leaped from the lofty tower, and their 
 necks were broken. The count greatly marvelled 
 and said that truly he had none such who would do 
 so much for him. Then the prince remarked, " Sir, 
 if you desire it, I will make every man you see leap 
 down." The count refused the polite offer. After 
 a somewhat lengthened visit, during which he was 
 treated with great courtesy and hospitality, the 
 prince loaded him with presents of jewels, and giving 
 him an escort of faithful Assassins, promised that he 
 would always be his friend, and if at any time he 
 should have a troublesome prince or nobleman that 
 he wanted to dispose of, he had only to call upon him, 
 and a trusty Assassin or so would be placed at his 
 service at once, and his enemy dispatched without fail. 
 The death-blow of Conrad was given by two of this 
 terrific order of Assassins, who, in the disguise of 
 monks and by the daily and strict performance of 
 religious offices, had eluded the suspicion of the peo- 
 ple of Tyre. The purpose of the murder was to 
 avenge an injury, which the prince of Assassins never 
 forgot or forgave. One of his ships had put into 
 Tyre in consequence of a storm, and being instantly 
 taken possession of by Conrad, was plundered and 
 the commander put to death. Two of the surest 
 emissaries of the Old MarC* revenge were dispatched, 
 
196 The Lion-Hear ted King. 
 
 and watching their opportunity, fearfully washed on 
 the insult in the blood of Conrad and their own. 
 
 King Richard has been charged with this dreadful 
 murder; but the act is so inconsistent with the 
 character of the fearless king who was ever ready to 
 face his enemy, and the motive so hard to discover, 
 that we should reject at once the charge as baseless. 
 Moreover, there is a letter extant addressed by the 
 Old Man of the Mountain to the king of France, 
 which artful - and envious prince was probably tho 
 author of the slander, in the course of which the 
 chief of the Assassins emphatically denies that the 
 king of England was in any way concerned in the 
 murder of Conrad, and avers positively that his 
 death was commanded by himself, to avenge an insult 
 and injury, and the command faithfully obeyed by 
 his Assassins. The genuineness of this letter has 
 been denied, and is supposed by some authorities to 
 have been written by an English hand to deceive the 
 world into a belief that Richard was innocent. Von 
 Hammer, the latest authority, who has written the 
 fullest account of the Assassins, says there is great 
 reason to believe that Lord of Thorm had employed 
 the Assassins to serve his revenge against Conrad for 
 having appropriated to himself Thorm's wife, Isabel, 
 and the crown of Jerusalem. Saladin and others 
 have also been suspected. The best testimony, how- 
 ever, which accords with the character of the lion- 
 
The Succession of Tyre. 197 
 
 hearted hero agrees in cleansing the great Kichard's 
 hands from the foul deed. 
 
 Henry of Champagne and the nobles who had 
 accompanied him on the mission to Conrad, were 
 on their return, and had reached Acre, when they 
 heard of the assassination. They immediately 
 returned to Tyre, which was in a state of great 
 affliction and excitement in consequence of the appall- 
 ing death of the popular Conrad. Disputes soon 
 arose in regard to the succession. The French forces, 
 which were gathered hi Tyre to the number of ten 
 thousand, presumed upon their strength, and sum- 
 moned Isabel, the widow of Conrad, to deliver up 
 the control of the city to them in behalf of their 
 king, Philip of France. To which she replied with 
 .spirit, that she did not acknoAvledge the French king 
 as having claim to the possessions of her late hus- 
 band or of herself, but added that if the king of 
 England should come, as he was the only true leader 
 of the Crusade, she would yield up her power to his 
 disposition, but to none other. 
 
 The arrival of Henry of Champagne at this emer- 
 gency, settled all the difficulty. He was a universal 
 favorite, and as he was a nephew of both Philip and 
 Richard, his mother having been the daughter of 
 Queen Eleanor by her first husband, Louis of France, 
 the French and the English were equally proud of 
 him. His gracious manners, his youth, and manly 
 bearing, and his gallant accomplishments won the 
 
198 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 affection and admiration of all. King Richard loved 
 him as a son, and was proud of his early success 
 and confident in the promise he gave of future great- 
 ness. Henry reciprocated this love and admiration, 
 and considered it the highest honor to be mentioned 
 as the nephew of the lion-hearted king. 
 
 So popular was the Count of Champagne with the 
 people of Tyre, that they proposed he should wed 
 Isabella, the widow of Conrad, and become their lord 
 and master at once. The Count was not averse to 
 the proposition ; for the widow was still young and 
 attractive, and the alliance opened to his ambition a 
 prospect his aspiring spirit was eager to reach. 
 Henry, however, asked for a delay until he could 
 assure himself of the permission of his uncle. Rich- 
 ard eagerly assented, as the alliance promised so 
 well for the honor and glory of his beloved nephew. 
 Immediately after, the marriage was celebrated, and 
 the crown of Jerusalem was .declared as the joint 
 right of Henry and Isabella, who assumed the title 
 of queen, while the former modestly continued to 
 style himself merely Count of Champagne. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 RICHARD still lingered in the Holy Land. He 
 could not tear himself away from his long- 
 cherished hope of striking a blow for Jerusalem, and 
 winning that crown of glory which was the loftiest 
 aspiration of the Christian warrior. The tomb of 
 the Saviour, through the dark portals of which the 
 Crusader saw the glorious sun of his immortal hopes, 
 was yet guarded in scornful derision of all Christen- 
 dom by the infidel. 
 
 Messenger after messenger arrived from England, 
 each bearing more doleful accounts than the preceding 
 one of the state of the kingdom. King Philip of 
 France, in spite of his solemn oath to Richard on 
 his departure for the Holy Land, sought the first 
 occasion to injure the absent king and despoil him of 
 his rights. As soon as he heard of the death of Con- 
 rad, he charged Richard publicly with the crime. He 
 filled all Europe with his slanders, and doubled his 
 guard on the pretense that his own life was threat- 
 ened by the hand of the Assassins, hired by the Eng- 
 lish king. In all this the purpose of the perjured 
 monarch was very apparent. He sought an excuse 
 to justify in the eyes of the world an attempt upon 
 
200 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 the dominions of Richard. He in fact prepared to 
 invade Normandy, and was only prevented from 
 carrying out his purpose by the more scrupulous 
 honor of his barons, who refused to perjure them- 
 selves by attacking what they had sworn to protect. 
 Not succeeding in this plan, Philip made overtures 
 to John, who was a ready listener to a treasonable 
 proposition. The French king promised his sister 
 Alice to this prince, and offered to put him in pos- 
 session of all .his brother Richard's English posses- 
 sions. John greedily assented, and was preparing 
 to cross the Channel into England. 
 
 Such was the intelligence brought by the last 
 messenger from England to Richard ; and yet the 
 king lingered in the Holy Land. His mind was 
 bewildered by these opposing motives ; but he was 
 led to a decision finally by the action of the nobles 
 and knights, who at a great, council held, came to 
 the unanimous resolve of marching against Jerusa- 
 lem, whether Richard remained or no. When this 
 determination was announced to the king, he imme- 
 diately proclaimed throughout the army that he 
 would not leave the Holy Land until after Easter in 
 the following year. This announcement was received 
 with great joy by every Crusader. 
 
 The French, whose vanity had been gratified by 
 the election of their own countryman, Henry of 
 Champagne, to the throne of Jerusalem, were now 
 disposed to join hand in hand with the other Cru 
 
March to Jerusalem. 201 
 
 saders in their attempt upon Jerusalem. They were 
 accordingly withdrawn from Tyre, and marched with 
 the Duke of Burgundy and Henry of Champagne at 
 their head to join Richard at Ascalon. 
 
 The Crusaders were now in a high state of enthu- 
 siasm preparing for their march to Jerusalem. With 
 the great champion of the cross, the lion-hearted king 
 himself, to lead them, every Christian soldier in the 
 camp enjoyed already in advance the triumph of a 
 victory, and felt that the coming campaign was but 
 a devout pilgrimage to the tomb of our Lord. The 
 great cause for which the Crusaders had so long 
 struggled, had endured every hardship, and for which 
 the blood of their brethren had been so profusely 
 shed, was on the eve of a great triumph. All of 
 every nation of Christendom were now gathered 
 again together under the common standard of the 
 cross. The French, from Tyre, had reached Asca- 
 lon, and vied with the Normans, the English, the 
 Germans, the Genoese, the Pisans, the Knight 
 Templars and those of St. John, in enthusiasm for 
 the last great conflict which was to drive away from 
 the Holy City for ever the infidel, and secure the 
 sepulchre for the pious pilgrimage and worship of 
 the Christian believer. 
 
 Previous to marching, Richard performed an act 
 
 of generous liberality toward his old friend, Guy of 
 
 Lusignan. He bestowed upon him the island of 
 
 Cyprus, which the King of England had so gallantly 
 
 12 
 
202 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 conquered. Kichard thus succeeded in reconciling 
 Guy, and securing his nephew Henry, Count of 
 Champagne, from a troublesome disputant of the 
 crown of Jerusalem. 
 
 It was now early in June when the camp of the 
 Crusaders at Ascalon was broken up, and the army 
 commenced its march. On arriving at Bethanopolis, 
 within about twenty miles of Jerusalem, the Cru- 
 saders came to a halt, and encamped until the arrival 
 of Henry of Champagne, who had been dispatched 
 to bring up those Crusaders who had remained at 
 Acre. 
 
 Saladin, aware of the unanimity of the Christian 
 forces, and of their proposed march to Jerusalem, 
 gathered his troops from all quarters, and mustered 
 a formidable array of Saracens, who took up their 
 position among the mountains which extend their 
 chain between Bethanopolis and Jerusalem. Saladin 
 commenced his old system of tactics ; and hanging 
 upon the march of the Crusaders, pounced upon the 
 rear, or cut off the stragglers. Sometimes the 
 Turks would flock down into the plains and provoke 
 the Christians to battle ; at others they would make 
 a sortie from their fastnesses in the mountains, and 
 rapidly receding from their attack, tempt the impe- 
 tuous Crusaders to follow them into the recesses of 
 the hills. When Richard led the attack or directed 
 the pursuit, the Saracen was sure to suffer for his 
 presumption. The English king took great delight 
 
The King Perplexed. 203 
 
 in driving back the Turks into their hiding-places. 
 One morning in particular, says Aytoun, he chased 
 them so far that he found himself unexpectedly at 
 the fountain of Emmaus, and in sight of the Holy 
 City, with, all its minarets and turrets gilded by the 
 early sun. The prospect of that place, for the 
 redemption of which he had come so far, affected him 
 even to tears ; nor was it without great difficulty that 
 his attendants could persuade him to retire from so 
 dangerous a vicinity. 
 
 Richard's thoughts were again turned toward his 
 distant home. A more earnest appeal than ever 
 urged him to return to his kingdom ; treason within 
 and attack from abroad threatened to overwhelm his 
 dominions and expose his throne to the first usurper. 
 The king's mind was again distracted by conflicting 
 emotion. Jerusalem was within his grasp, and he 
 had, as it were, but to advance a step and reach out 
 his arm to the crown of glory which awaited him. 
 The Saracens were anticipating, in dread, the coming 
 event, and forsook the city in crowds. But the 
 brave hero was averted from the glorious rising of 
 his sun in the east by the dark cloud and the mutter- 
 ings of the storm which were threatening in the west. 
 [f the king had not been thus bewildered, but had 
 pushed on with his accustomed vigor to the walls of 
 Jerusalem, there can be little doubt that the conquest 
 of the holy city would have added the crowning tri- 
 umph to his great career. The king, however, 
 
204 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 remained undetermined, and for the first time the 
 onward man hesitated to move — a sad spectacle of 
 the annihilation of power by two' opposing forces. 
 
 The army thus passed a whole month in almost a 
 complete state of inactivity, varied only by an 
 occasional skirmish with the enemy. Provisions 
 began to be very scarce, and the soldiers were dis- 
 couraged by idleness and want. Joppa was the near- 
 est sea-port town, and they looked to it for the much 
 needed supplies. Accordingly messengers were sent 
 to that city, and soon a caravan loaded with provi- 
 sions set out for the camp at Bethanopolis. It was 
 escorted by a few brave knights. Saladin had intel- 
 ligence of its approach, and aware of the great need 
 of the enemy, determined to cut it off. He accord- 
 ingly dispatched a large body of Saracens, who were 
 ordered to conceal themselves in ambuscade near a 
 narrow gorge, through which the road passed, and 
 await the coming up of the caravan, when they were 
 to rush upon the escort and seizing every man of 
 them, carry off the supplies. The Crusaders were 
 caught in the snare and found themselves at the 
 mercy of the Saracens, who impetuously attacked 
 the knights, disarmed them, and carried them off to 
 the mountains. Before, however, the Saracens could 
 carry off their booty, the English Earl of Leicester 
 fortunately came up with a large force, and keeping 
 off the enemy, secured the much-needed supplies. 
 
 The necessity of doing something was now so 
 
Richard opposes the March to Jerusalem. 205 
 
 urgently felt, that a great council was summoned of 
 all the chiefs and knights to deliberate upon the 
 plans for the future. Richard was now opposed to 
 marching against Jerusalem, and said to those — 
 among whom were all the French to a man — who 
 were in favor of such a step, that if they were fixed in 
 their determination, he would go with them, that it 
 might never be said he deserted the cause, but it 
 would be as a follower, not as leader. He would 
 never take the responsibility of what he believed 
 must certainly result in disaster and ruin. The 
 grounds upon which this opinion averse to a march 
 upon Jerusalem was founded were stated at length. 
 So thoroughly fortified were the walls of Jerusalem, 
 that all the force the Crusaders could bring to bear 
 against them would be ineffectual in establishing a 
 blockade, and the idea of carrying the city by storm 
 was absurd. Moreover, Saladin was on the alert, 
 and with his host of Saracens he could not only keep 
 an immense body within the walls of the city, but 
 send out numerous troops in all directions, who, 
 while the Crusaders should be fully occupied with 
 the exhaustless demands of a siege, would be enabled 
 to fall upon Joppa and the intermediate positions, and 
 cut off the supplies from the sea-board. There was, 
 moreover, the certainty of a want of supply of water 
 from the fact that all the springs in and about Jerusa- 
 lem had been drawn off, and the army would be de- 
 prived of the first essential to its existence, and exposed 
 
206 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 to all the horrors of thirst, in the exhausting and 
 parching heat of that arid and hot climate, 
 
 Richard now ha the presence of all the leaders, the 
 first nobles and knights of Christendom, frankly al- 
 luded to the factious conduct of the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy and his troublesome French. Nor was he 
 less free in his denunciations of the personal envy 
 and ill-will with which they had been influenced in 
 slandering his motives and attempting to thwart all 
 his plans. " They of France," he said, " have here- 
 tofore censured me for my headstrong impetuosity, 
 and have had the audacity to declare, that my only 
 motive has been personal aggrandizement, and that 
 the safety of my people was disregarded. I see," 
 continued the chafed king, " the object of such in 
 urging this hopeless attack on Jerusalem ; they 
 would have me risk my character in this forlorn 
 hope, that they may have occasion in my defeat, of 
 tarnishing my honor, and gratifying their own spite." 
 
 Richard then proposed that the cmestion should be 
 submitted to the Knight Templars and Hospitallers, 
 and the native barons, whose interests were chiefly 
 at stake. This proposition was accepted and the 
 question was submitted to five each of the Templars 
 and Hospitallers, of the Syrian nobles and of the 
 European Crusaders. These twenty were then con- 
 voked in solemn assembly, and having sworn to be 
 governed by the good of the cause alone, proceeded 
 to deliberate upon the proper conduct in the emer- 
 
The March to Jerusalem given up. 207 
 
 gency. The decision, whatever it might be, was to 
 control without dispute the action of the Crusaders. 
 The conclusion to which this august assembly came, 
 was hi accordance with the English king's opinion, 
 that the attack upon Jerusalem should be abandoned. 
 They moreover marked out a new plan for opera- 
 tions, which consisted in a march to Egypt and an 
 attack upon Cairo, from which place Saladin drew 
 his main supplies. 
 
 Richard concurred in this new proposition, feeling 
 himself bound by the decision of the chosen council, 
 but the French, although equally compelled by all 
 the laws of honor, to abide by the resolves of a body 
 in the appointment of which they had had a voice, 
 and to whose decision they had solemnly pledged 
 themselves to submit, now murmured and openly 
 resisted the proposition to turn away from the holy 
 city. Ships, provisions, and men, and his own per- 
 sonal aid were offered by Richard to the French, to 
 induce them to give in their adherence to the pro- 
 posed expedition to Cairo ; but all persuasion was in 
 vain. They were resolved not to concur in a plan 
 which the English king seconded, and whom they were 
 determined to thwart from a base motive of envy. 
 The French were, in fact, the least eager of all the 
 Crusaders for a bold and hazardous policy, but were 
 always ready for the mean and cowardly subterfuge, 
 by which they could safely indulge their hatred of 
 the great Norman hero. 
 
208 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 The Duke of Burgundy indulged himself in a 
 satirical effusion on the occasion, and wrote a lam 
 poon in verse, in which the English king was ridi 
 culed for his caprice and change of policy. This the 
 French duke distributed among his soldiers, and 
 strove by his shallow wit to raise the laugh where he 
 had already excited disaffection, against the brave 
 Richard. The English king was as able to cope with 
 him with this new weapon, as he was superior to 
 him in arms, and retorted upon the Frenchman with 
 a satirical poem on the vices and weaknesses of the 
 Duke. 
 
 Richard's active spirit had soon occasion for that 
 exercise in which it so much delighted. His spies 
 brought intelligence that a caravan of immense ex- 
 tent, and loaded with the richest goods, was on the 
 road to Jerusalem. The king accordingly determined 
 to possess himself of the treasure. He then selected 
 a troop of his choicest men and set out with the 
 intention of falling upon the caravan near Gaza, which 
 he deemed the most convenient place on the road for 
 the proposed attack. On arriving at this point, to 
 which Richard hurried on learning that they were 
 encamped there for the night, sad was his disappoint- 
 ment in finding nothing but the ashes of the camp- 
 fires, the grass trodden, as it were, by countless 
 hoofs, and the disgusting evidences of the halt of a 
 multitude sickening the surrounding atmosphere. 
 The Saracens had taken alarm, and broken up their 
 
The Retreat of the Crusaders. 209 
 
 encampment before the dawn of day. The king 
 now dispatched after them some of his more skillful 
 archers and cross-bow men on horseback, ordering 
 them to follow, at all speed, the track of the caravan, 
 and hang upon its flank, and thus obstruct its pro- 
 gress until the rest of the troops could come up. 
 The caravan was overtaken, the Saracens put to 
 flight, and the booty fell into the hands of Richard, 
 who, with his usual generosity, divided the rich spoil 
 among all his soldiers. The magnitude of the cara- 
 van may be estimated, when it is stated, that four 
 thousand seven hundred camels and dromedaries, 
 together with numerous horses, mules, and asses, all 
 laden with the richest goods and products of the East 
 were thus captured in the lucky expedition. 
 
 The sad day had arrived. The Crusaders were 
 about to turn their eyes from the holy city to 
 which they had so long looked in hope and prayer. 
 In their religious enthusiasm no sacrifice had been 
 spared to accomplish what they now abandoned in 
 hopeless despair. In the far "West they had left their 
 native land, the comforts of home, and the affections 
 of kindred. In the East they sought a strange 
 country to which the armed enemy guarded every 
 approach, and where each step was in blood. They 
 joyfully accepted the change, for above the battle- 
 cry the prayer whispered by the brave hearts of 
 those fighting for the faith, rose on high and was 
 felt to be accepted, and the blood which obscured 
 14 
 
210 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 the vision of the sun on earth, and the mist of death 
 which gathered on the mortal eye, neither darkened 
 the glory of God nor dimmed the heavenly sight of 
 the Christian believer. Suffering, danger, and death 
 were nothing in this struggle for the Christian faith, 
 for such the Crusaders, in their religious enthusiasm, 
 never doubted it to be. 
 
 The king, though superior to his age, and free 
 from the blind fanaticism of many of his followers, 
 was still deeply moved by a spirit of devotional 
 feeling, and his religious sentiment, in common with 
 that of the Crusaders, doubtless suffered poignantly 
 this supposed abandonment of the cause of the 
 cross. As a warrior, as the acknowledged leader of 
 the Christian chivalry of Europe, as the great hope in 
 the warfare of the Crusaders, as the ambitious con- 
 queror, the lion-hearted Richard felt this retreat, in 
 the sight of an enemy, this sacrifice of the last grand 
 triumph, this abandonment of the noblest prize of 
 all, while almost within his grasp, as a blow that 
 nearly crushed his great heart. 
 
 Early in the morning, before the Crusaders com- 
 menced their march in retreat from Jerusalem, the 
 king rode, full-armed, in company with a brave 
 knight, a bosom friend, to the summit of a neigh- 
 boring hill from which Jerusalem could be seen in 
 the distance, with the purpose of taking a last view 
 of the holy city. Richard, however, as his com- 
 panion directed his attention to the turrets of Jerusa- 
 
The Sad March. 211 
 
 Jem, which now began to rise to the view, as they 
 turned in their path up the mountain, placed his 
 shield before his eyes and said, that he was not 
 worthy to look upon that holy city which he had 
 failed to redeem. 
 
 Every soldier felt the sadness of that hour when 
 the Crusaders took up their march from Bethanopolis 
 westward. It was in vain that the bugles and trum- 
 pets sounded the most cheering notes; the army 
 wore that air of sorrow and discouragement which 
 betokened that they were no longer in the advancing 
 path of victory and glory, but in the receding steps 
 of retreat and misfortune. The martial airs of the 
 trumpeters were so little in accordance with the 
 depressed heart of the Crusaders that they were soon 
 silenced, and the army marched on with arms 
 reversed and in silence, as if mourning for the death 
 of their cause. 
 
 On the arrival of the Crusaders at Joppa, on the 
 sea-coast, the complete demoralization of the troops 
 became apparent. The common cause no longer 
 existed as a common bond of sympathy. National 
 jealousies now began to show themselves, and put 
 an end to all discipline and unity of action. The 
 French, under the Duke of Burgundy, as usual, were 
 the first to break out in factious disorder, and finally 
 refusing to follow the English king any farther, sepa- 
 rated from the main army and took up their quarters 
 at Csesarea. Others of the various nations dispersed 
 
212 The Lion-Hear ted King. 
 
 in different directions, some to Acre and some to 
 Tyre. Richard now found that it would be absurd, 
 with an army so reduced by desertion, and dis- 
 couraged by disappointment, to continue the Cru- 
 sade, and he accordingly gave up all hope of marching 
 into Egypt, and prepared to embark his troops for 
 England. Before leaving, however, in order to 
 secure a safe retreat for the Crusaders, he proposed 
 terms for a truce with Saladin. This Saracen leader, 
 always vigilant, and as energetic to meet as he was 
 quick to see an emergency, had discovered the 
 plight to which the disorganization of the Christian 
 army had reduced them, and prepared to strike a 
 blow, now that they appeared unable to resist it. 
 Saladin mustered from all quarters the largest body 
 of troops ever ai'rayed under his standard, and from 
 his position at Jerusalem was prepared to crush the 
 scattered remnant of the Christian forces. He felt, 
 therefore, that he was more entitled to dictate terms 
 than Richard, and accordingly insisted, as a condition 
 of the proposed truce, that the fortifications of Asca- 
 lcn should be dismantled. The English king per- 
 emptorily refused this proposition, and the hopes of 
 a truce were at an end. Hostilities now commenced. 
 Saladin, watching his opportunity, which the depar- 
 ture of Richard from Joppa gave him, prepared to 
 make an assault upon this sea-port town. Richard, 
 on his part, having marched from Joppa, where the 
 sick and wounded had been left, proceeded to Acre 
 
Desperate Position of Joppa. 213 
 
 and made ready his vessels that he might ba pre- 
 pared to embark at any moment. The Hospitallers 
 and Templars were sent to strengthen the garrison 
 at Ascalon, they having been directed to level to the 
 ground, on their march, the fortifications of Damascus, 
 as a sufficient force could not be spared to sustain 
 a siege. 
 
 Saladin soon reached Joppa, and began to invest 
 that city with great spirit. In five days from the 
 commencement of their assault, the Saracens suc- 
 ceeded in destroying a large portion of the walls ; 
 and making their way into the city through the 
 breach, massacred every Christian they met. The 
 citadel, however, held out, and was gallantly defended 
 by a small band of brave soldiers, with the Patriarch 
 of Jerusalem at their head. The rest of the garrison, 
 with the Governor of Joppa, ingloriously took to 
 their heels, and embarking on board the vessels in 
 the harbor, secured their own safety, for which they 
 only cared, by sailing out of the reach of harm. 
 The situation of the remnant of brave men in the 
 citadel was desperate. Saladin concentrated his 
 whole immense force upon this solitary point of resist- 
 ance. His engines and battering-rams were worked 
 with great vigor, and the walls of the citadel were 
 fast yielding. The Patriarch of Jerusalem, aware of 
 his desperate condition, now threw out a signal of 
 truce, and offered to yield up the fortress on the next 
 day, provided their brethren did not in the mean 
 
£14 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 time come to the rescue. The Patriarch and several 
 of the knights then offered to give themselves up 
 to the Saracens as hostages for the fulfillment of the 
 terms of the truce. Saladin assented. 
 
 The day arrived, and the brave garrison made 
 ready to surrender, when some English vessels were 
 descried making for the port. Richard having heard 
 at Acre, where he had arrived, of the straits to 
 which the garrison at Joppa was reduced, made 
 ready at once to hasten to its relief. He embarked 
 all the forces he could collect at Acre, and setting 
 sail, steered for Joppa. The Count of Champagne, 
 at the head of the Knight Templars and Hospitallers, 
 marched by land. The French refused to cooperate, 
 and no persuasion could induce them to change their 
 purpose. The king's fleet was detained by opposing 
 winds, and did not arrive at Joppa, as we have seen, 
 until the very day when the garrison was to be 
 delivered up to the mercy of the Turk. 
 
 Richard, as he neared the harbor, was in a state 
 of anxious uncertainty as to whether he had arrived 
 in time. He was eagerly on the look-out for some 
 signal from the garrison, by which he might learn 
 its fate. As he was sharply scanning every line of 
 the fortress, from base to summit, and every bend 
 in the shore, his quick eye caught at some object in 
 the water, which seemed rapidly to near his vessel. 
 He stood on the bow, gazing intently at it, when he 
 thought he could observe signs of life. As it 
 
Richard to the Rescue. 215 
 
 approached closer and closer, he could see that it 
 was some stout swimmer who was throwing out his ' 
 arms with great vigor, and making directly for the 
 ship. A boat was lowered with all dispatch, and 
 with a few strong pulls met the bold swimmer, who 
 proved to be a stout priest, who had thus courage- 
 ously made off from the land to communicate to 
 Richard the condition of things in the citadel. With 
 breathless haste he stated that there was no time to 
 lose, for the last hour of the garrison was approach- 
 ing — that ere the sun rose above yonder turrets the 
 fate of the Christians would be sealed, and every 
 man probably put to death. He entreated the king 
 to make all speed and relieve his brethren from their 
 impending misfortune. The brave Richard needed 
 no entreaty. To know that his fellow-Christians 
 were in danger was enough to move the generous 
 impulses of his soul, and cause him to lift that 
 mighty arm, so potent to save a friend or destroy an 
 enemy. The king ordered on the instant all hands 
 to the oars, and urged them by his inspiriting words 
 to pull right for the shore. His own vessel led the 
 van of the fleet. In the mean time the Saracens 
 crowded down upon the shore, with their bow-men 
 and slingers, and determined to prevent the landing 
 of Richard and his men at all hazards. As soon as 
 the vessels came within the cast of an arrow, the 
 enemy poured upon them such a volley of missiles 
 of all kinds that the steersmen could hardly see their 
 
216 The Lion-Hearted King, 
 
 course. Richard, however, was prepared for this 
 attack, and protected his approach by his own 
 famous English archers, who, by their superior aim 
 and stouter pull, drove back the Saracen host. The 
 oarsmen pulled with hearty "vigor, and drove the 
 galleys right upon the shore. In consequence of the 
 draught of the vessels, there was still a consider- 
 able depth of water, although the keels touched bot- 
 tom. The king, without a moment's hesitation, 
 shouting out, ." Cursed be he that followeth me not !" 
 sprung overboard up to his arm-pits, followed by his 
 faithful knights, and then pushed on to the land. 
 Richard dashed ahead, and was soon in the midst of 
 the Saracens, laying about him with his usual fero- 
 cious valor, and spreading death and alarm every- 
 where. The Saracens were soon driven back to the 
 city, where they were met by the garrison issuing 
 out from the citadel, and being thus caught between 
 two opposing forces, suffered terribly, and, dispersed 
 in all directions, fled as they could through the 
 various outlets of the city. Joppa was thus again 
 in the possession of the Crusaders. 
 
 Saladin's pride as a soldier was deeply wounded 
 on account of the defeat of his forces by so insigni- 
 ficant an array of the enemy on the score of num- 
 ber, and he determined to wipe away the disgrace. 
 He accordingly resolved to attack the Crusaders at 
 once, before they could be strengthened by the 
 arrival of Henry of Champagne, who, as has been 
 
Richard in Danger. 217 
 
 6tated, had set out from Acre, at the head of the 
 Templars and Hospitallers, and was marching by- 
 land to the relief of Joppa. This reinforcement for- 
 tunately arrived in the night, previous to the day on 
 which Saladin had resolved to make his onset. The 
 Saracens made their preparations with great caution, 
 and intended to take the Christians by surprise. 
 Saladin accordingly drew out his forces before the 
 break of day, and marched with the utmost silence 
 toward the camp of the Crusaders, hoping to come 
 upon "them unawares. A part of Saladin's design 
 was to seize Richard in his tent, while asleep. 
 Accordingly a troop of horse, under the command 
 of a discreet and trusty Turk, was detailed for this 
 special purpose ; and orders were given that they 
 should cautiously approach the tent of the English 
 king, and having mastered the guards, seize upon 
 Richard, and gallop off with him to the rear of the 
 Turkish army. These orders were strictly obeyed ; 
 and the Saracens succeeded in passing the outposts 
 and wending their way between the scattered tents 
 of the Christian encampment, concealed by the 
 obscurity of the early hour and the caution with 
 which they approached. They passed unobserved 
 until within a horse's leap of the tent where the king 
 was asleep, and totally unconscious of his imminent 
 danger. The neighing of one of the horses, at this 
 moment, aroused a Genoese who was near the royal 
 tent, and he shouted out the war-cry and aroused 
 
218 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 every Crusader in the camp. There was no time for 
 delay ; and the Christians issiied from their tents as 
 they were, some of them, only half-armed. The 
 Saracens were all drawn up ready for a charge, and 
 a large troop had already, as we have seen, pene- 
 trated within the camp ; and had they at once made 
 a vigorous onslaught, while the Crusaders were in a 
 state of confusion, the day would have been fatal to 
 Richard. Saladin, however, finding that his attempt 
 had failed, and that the Christians were aroused, 
 hesitated for a moment, and commanded a halt. This 
 delay gave the king, whose mind was ever fertile in 
 conception and his will quick in execution, time to 
 arrange a plan of defense, which was put in opera- 
 tion on the instant. 
 
 The forces of the Crusaders were so few, in com- 
 parison with the overwhelming numbers of the 
 Saracens, that he saw his only chance was to act on 
 the defensive until he could tire out the enemy, or 
 so divide up their formidable front into those sepa- 
 rate skirmishing parties, with which he knew Sala- 
 din, with his usual tactics, would attempt to assail 
 the Crusaders. Richard accordingly formed his 
 force into a solid square, and issued the order that 
 under no circumstances should a soldier break the 
 ranks, attempt a charge, or engage in pursuit. The 
 whole of his infantry, which was composed of 
 spearmen and archers, arrayed two by two, was thus 
 arranged in a solid phalanx. Behind the square, Rich- 
 
Another Battle. 219 
 
 ard himself, with a group of ten knights, took up his 
 position. These eleven were the only men mounted 
 in the whole force, to such a destitute condition had 
 the Crusaders been reduced by desertion and mis- 
 fortune. 
 
 The battle began. Saladin charged impetuously 
 with his cavalry upon the solid square, but without 
 making the least impression upon the firm, iron- 
 nerved men. They withstood the shock without a 
 perceptible movement. Again and again, for seven 
 successive times, the Saracens charged, but the 
 Crusaders stood firm. Saladin finding that these 
 onsets were unavailing against the unmoved enemy, 
 and dreadfully destructive to his own cavalry, who 
 impaled themselves at each charge by hundreds upon 
 the pikes of the spearmen, or fell from their saddles 
 in their retreat, pierced by the sure arrows of the 
 English bowmen, determined to change his tactics. 
 The Saracens accordingly drew off" at some distance, 
 and distributing themselves in detached parties 
 commenced a discharge of spears and arrows from 
 all sides upon the Crusaders. This was what Rich- 
 ard expected, and now giving the word to his 
 knightly companions, he sallied out and made at 
 once for the enemy. Eleven men against as many 
 thousands, a fearful difference, which seemed to be- 
 token nothing but certain death to the English king 
 and his devoted knights. But, trusting to their per- 
 sonal strength, thfir marvellous courage, and the 
 
220 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 terror of their names, the lion-hearted hero and his 
 brave followers did not hesitate to plunge into the 
 very midst of the enemy. At the first charge 
 Richard and his knights bore down the front ranks 
 and fought their way at once into the thickest, sur- 
 rounded on all sides by the host of Saracens. The 
 king and his knights were no longer able in the 
 struggle to keep together, and each one had to fight 
 his own battle. The deeds of these men on that 
 day are beyond any thing recorded in history. Each 
 one was contending against hundreds. Aytoun 
 says eleven against seven thousand. All the accounts 
 are such that we would hesitate to believe them 
 were they not as well authenticated as other facts to 
 which we can not refuse credence. What ever mor- 
 tal man could do or dare was dared and done by 
 Cceur-de-Lion, says the same writer whom we have 
 quoted above, and in whose glowing account of this 
 battle the wonders of the old historians lose nothing 
 of their marvellous character. Each man drew his 
 sword and struck down right and left the thronging 
 Turks who pressed forward certain, with such odds 
 in their favor, of making captive Richard and his ten 
 companions. Clad in steel, these brave warriors 
 shook off the scimitars and spears which rained 
 down upon them, and seemed as invulnerable as 
 Homer's gods. Richard's prowess that day was 
 superhuman, he outdid himself, and his blow was as 
 sure and terrific as that of death in a pestilence. H6 
 
A Victory. 221 
 
 repeatedly rescued his brave knights who had been 
 borne down in the struggle by the overpowering num- 
 bers of the enemy. The Earl of Leicester, the brave 
 baron, who had stood by Eichard throughout the 
 Crusade as his right-hand man through every danger, 
 in the breach or in the battle, performed wonderful 
 deeds of valor, but, his horse having been killed 
 beneath him, he would surely have died on that day 
 a warrior's death, had not Richard fought his way to 
 him and mounted him again upon a charger, from 
 the saddle of which the king dashed off with one 
 blow the Saracen rider. 
 
 Saladin himself could not withhold his admiration 
 of the stupendous deeds of valor of the great Richard, 
 and gave proof of it when the struggle was at its 
 height. The Saracen having observed that Richard 
 had been dismounted, and was fighting on foot, sent 
 him a splendid Arabian horse. The king mounted 
 it and dashed into the fight. 
 
 Richard finding that a portion of the enemy had 
 taken advantage of the absence of the garrison 
 during the battle and entered the city of Joppa, 
 made his way out of the midst of the struggle, and 
 ordering up a detachment of his archers, led them 
 against the intruders. They were driven out, and 
 Richard returned to the battle-field, where he soon 
 settled the day by the effectual way in which he 
 dealt with an emir who was leading the attack of the 
 Saracens. With one blow the king severed the 
 
222 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Turk's head and right arm. His troops lost courage 
 in consequence of the death of their leader and fled, 
 leaving the Crusaders the conquerors of the day. 
 
 In the battle the Christians lost only two men, 
 who were common soldiers, while the Saracens left 
 seven hundred stretched in death upon the field. 
 The forces engaged were only five hundred on the 
 part of the Crusaders, and more than seven thousand 
 on the side of the enemy. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE wonderful exertions of Richard on the 
 battle-field of Joppa, his anxious solicitude 
 about the safety of his throne in England, and his 
 forced abandonment of the cause so dear to his heart, 
 prostrated the king in body and mind to such a 
 degree, that he became a ready victim to the pre- 
 vailing disease of the climate. A violent fever laid 
 him prostrate on his bed. The monarch, though 
 suffering in the agonies of disease, and overshadowed, 
 as it were, by the wings of impending death, thought 
 little of his own fate, but calmly busied himself 
 about his followers, who looked to him, even in his 
 prostration, as their only hope and support The 
 English now only numbered five hundred all told ; 
 and the ever-active Saladin was gathering again 
 his hordes to crush the brave remnant of Richard's 
 force. The English king, in spite of his sickness 
 and the mere handful of men left to fight against 
 the thousands of the enemy, was yet bold in heart, 
 and prepared to strike another blow. Henry of 
 Champagne was instructed to negotiate with the 
 French who were at Acre for their assistance. The 
 D^'t of Burgundy, their leader, however, having been 
 
224 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 attacked by the same disease (from which there was 
 no hope of recovery in his case) as Richard, rendered 
 this negotiation hopeless. This intelligence was 
 brought to the monarch, who, nothing daunted, beg- 
 ged that he himself might be conveyed to Ascalon, 
 where, as long as breath remained in his weakened 
 body, he would resist the infidel ; and he declared 
 that the last agony of death should be a struggle for 
 the cause of the cross. His friends, however, who 
 knew that the king was their only hope, and saw in 
 his illness and probable death the certain defeat of 
 the Crusaders, remonstrated with the spirited Rich- 
 ard. They told him that his followers were now so 
 reduced in numbers, and so dispirited by the sick- 
 ness of their leader, that they could never resist the 
 Saracen, and total ruin would be the result of further 
 hostilities. They urged him, therefore, now that the 
 glorious victory at Joppa had struck a wholesome 
 terror into the ranks of the enemy, to establish a 
 truce with Saladin. They might thus secure a safe 
 departure for the Crusaders, and the possession to 
 Christendom of some of its hard-won conquests. The 
 king yielded to these entreaties, and proposed terms 
 to the Saracens. A truce was established for three 
 years, three months, three weeks, and three days — a 
 magic number, says Hume, which had been probably 
 devised by the Europeans, and which was suggested 
 by a superstition well suited to the object of the 
 war. According to the terms of this truce, all the 
 
The Crusaders at Jerusalem. 225 
 
 fortresses in the possession of the Crusaders, taken 
 since the conquest of Acre, were to be demolished. 
 All the country on the sea-board west of the moun- 
 tains which extend their chain north and south 
 through the centre of Palestine, was to remain to 
 the Christians, and the rest, with the exception of 
 Ascalon, was to be given up to Saladin. In regard 
 to this place, it was agreed that it should belong to 
 neither party until the expiration of the truce, when 
 it should be ceded to the stronger. The Christians, 
 moreover, were to be permitted to worship at the 
 Holy Sepulchre without hindrance of tax, insult, or 
 persecution. 
 
 This privilege of entering Jerusalem as pilgrims, 
 was joyfully accepted by the Crusaders, and they 
 eagerly availed themselves of it. Richard himself 
 did not go to Jerusalem. His proud heart would 
 not accept as a favor what fate had refused to him 
 as the right of a conqueror. His devotional feeling 
 was always in subjection to his warrior spirit ; and 
 to fight for the conquest of the Holy City was more 
 in conformity with his character, than to fall down in 
 worship as a devotee at the tomb of our Saviour, 
 while he bent his body in supplication to an earthly 
 potentate. 
 
 The king was carried to Caiaphas, where it was 
 hoped his health might benefit by the change. 
 Previous to his departure, the most frequent inter- 
 change of courtesies took place between Richard and 
 15 
 
226 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Saladin, who, although they never met in person, 
 held each other in great honor for their mutual 
 chivalry. Saphadin, however, the brother of the 
 Saracen monarch, accompanied by many of the moat 
 distinguished of the Turkish officers, frequently 
 repaired to the English camp, and were received with 
 every courtesy and mark of distinction. 
 
 While Richard was at Caiaphas, where he rapidly 
 gained in health and strength, his army visited, in 
 accordance with the truce with Saladin, the Holy 
 City. While the Christian soldiers were thus 
 gathered in worship at the sepulchre, the fierce Sara- 
 cens would have fallen upon them ; but Saladin pro- 
 tected the Crusaders from the vengeance and the 
 malignant hatred of his bigoted subjects. The 
 Bishop of Salisbury, whose hand was more used to 
 the sword than the crozier, was among the pious 
 visitors to Jerusalem, and was received with especial 
 favor by the Sultan. Saladin admitted the bishop to 
 a private interview, in the course of which all cere- 
 mony was laid aside, and the two indulged in the 
 most intimate and familiar talk. The Sultan ex- 
 pressed his high admiration of King Richard and his 
 brave followers, and was anxious to hear in what 
 estimation he himself was held by those he so greatly 
 honored for their valor. " What say your men of 
 your king and of me V inquired Saladin. " My 
 king," replied the Bishop of Salisbury, " is acknow- 
 ledged as one surpassing all other men in deeds of 
 
The Courtesy of Saladin. 227 
 
 valor and generosity. But," added the bishop in his 
 sacred character, " your fame also stands high ; and 
 were you but converted from your unbelief, thero 
 would not be in the world two such princes as you 
 and Eichard." The Sultan acknowledged the mighty 
 courage and generous soul of the English monarch, 
 but justly censured his headstrong impetuosity and 
 reckless courage. "I would rather," remarked 
 Saladin, " be renowned for prudence than for auda- 
 city." The bishop was then asked if there was any 
 favor the Sultan could grant him, to which he replied 
 that there was one which might be of inestimable 
 benefit to the Christian Church, of which he was an 
 unworthy servant. The liberal-minded Turk then 
 granted, in accordance with the Christian bishop's 
 request, permission for the establishment of two 
 priests and deacons at Jerusalem, Nazareth, and 
 Bethlehem, that they might be ready to aid the pil- 
 grims from the West in their worship at these holy 
 places. There is a spirit of heavenly charity in 
 these noble courtesies of the great Saladin, which 
 emanated from a spark of divine love, though 
 enkindled in a heathen heart, from which the cold- 
 nearted professor of Christianity might derive, in 
 contemplation, the glow of spiritual warmth he so 
 much needs. Much less of the polemics of theology, 
 and a little more of the Gospel of peace, would have 
 done for the cause of the cross what the Crusaders 
 failed to do. The gentle word of hope, and the kind 
 
228 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 net of mercy, would, have been more effectual than 
 the cry of battle and the deed of blood. 
 
 Richard, who had recovered, and had done his best 
 for the cause in which he was so deeply interested, 
 was now prepared to depart. The terms of his 
 truce with Saladin were more favorable than he had 
 any reason to expect. It was not so much the power 
 which he "wielded as the name he bore, to which ho 
 was indebted for his success. The English king by 
 his valor and his almost marvellous prowess had 
 gained for him a fame that it is difficult to estimate 
 at this day, when individual character is so lost in 
 the general progress. In the wars of the olden time 
 every thing depended upon personal courage and 
 physical strength. The spirit to dare, the will to 
 command, and the strong muscle to obey, were the 
 great requisites for success, and he who could bring 
 them to his service was sure to prove his mastery. 
 Richard had all these beyond any man of his age. 
 His heart was the boldest, his frame, which was 
 gigantic, the most muscular, and his energy the most 
 active of any warrior of his times. With a fair occa- 
 sion for the exercise of Ins transcendent powers, as 
 the king of a warlike people, in a warlike age, he 
 had but to show himself in the eye of the world, to be 
 recognized at once as its master. Mankind might 
 as well have disputed the firmness of the rock, the 
 towering height of the mountain, the power of the 
 storm, the unfathomable capacity of the sea, or any 
 
The Dread Name. 229 
 
 other of the facts of nature, as question the supe- 
 riority of the mighty king. Friend and foe alike 
 beheld, wondered, and believed. 
 
 In Palestine, which was the scene of Richard's 
 greatest deeds, his name became a terror to all for 
 ages. The Saracen mothers would hush their child- 
 ren into silence by raising the threatening finger and 
 whispering, " Be still, King Richard will come." The 
 Saracen horseman, too, if Iris horse plunged or startled, 
 would, as he spurred him on, exclaim, " What's the 
 matter 1 Do you think King Richard is in the bush ?" 
 Nor can we have any stronger illustration of the 
 dread of his great name than the favorable truce 
 Saladin, one of the ablest warriors of the day, so 
 willingly conceded to the English king. Richard 
 from a bed of sickness, with his.force reduced to a 
 miserable remnant of scarce five hundred, conscious 
 of their danger, and anxious for safety, dictated 
 terms to the able and powerful Saladin at the head 
 of thousands. Such was the prestige of the English 
 king's dread name. 
 
 Richard was now ready to leave for England. 
 He first dispatched his fleet from Acre, retaining a 
 single vessel for himself. He made every arrange- 
 ment for the security and comfort of his remnant of 
 brave followers, and for his queen Berengaria, his sis- 
 ter Joan, and the Cypriot princess, who now sailed 
 with the fleet. He was aware of the King of 
 France's designs and his brother John's treachery, 
 
230 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 and therefore determined to travel homeward 
 secretly, that they might be unable to make pre- 
 parations to oppose his landing. By his sudden 
 appearance among his subjects, he believed that he 
 would be received by them, when once in their 
 midst, with acclamation, and the artful plans of 
 Philip and the usurpation of his brother be neutra- 
 lized. He kept his own counsel so closely that 
 those knights even who sailed for England were not 
 aware of his plans. He bid them farewell with an 
 injunction, if they should find him in his kingdom, to 
 rally at once to his standard, or if not, to await his 
 coming, prepared for the event. To the Grand-Mas- 
 ter of the Templars he was more communicative. 
 To him he explained his intention and his motives ; 
 there are many, the king said, who bore him no love, 
 and would be happy if they could seize him, and 
 would certainly slay him if he fell in their power. 
 He had, therefore, resolved to travel in disguise, and 
 asked for an escort of Templars to accompany him, 
 that he might appear in Europe as one of that order. 
 A few of the trustiest of them were therefore 
 placed at his disposal, and hi addition, his own 
 adherents, Baldewin de Bethune, William de L'Es- 
 tang, Philip the secretary, and Anselm the chaplain, 
 joined the party. 
 
 Richard finally embarked, in the month of Octo- 
 ber, in the year 1192, on board of a galley and set 
 sail from the Holy Land. The next morning, as the 
 
Departs from the Holy Land. 231 
 
 vessel was leaving the shores of Palestine, the hills 
 of Lebanon and the other mountains of Syria being 
 still hi view, the king stretched out his arms toward 
 the land and exclaimed, as he took his last look, 
 "Most holy land, I commend thee to God's keeping. 
 May he give me life and health to return and rescue 
 thee from the infidel !" 
 
 The fleet had sailed several days before Richard's 
 vessel, but they were all exposed to the same storm 
 which arose. It was the season of tempests in the 
 Mediterranean and they were caught by one of 
 unusual severity. The fleet was scattered by the 
 wind, and some of 'the ships driven upon the inhospi- 
 table shores of Africa, where the crew and soldiers 
 were sold into slavery, and otherwise barbarously 
 treated. The ship which bore the queen, her hus- 
 band's sister, and the princess of Cyprus put into a 
 harbor in the island of Sicily with trifling damage. 
 Richard's vessel, which had taken a course farther 
 north, was driven, by stress of weather, to take refuge 
 at the island of Corfu, at the mouth of the Gulf of 
 Venice, where he arrived in the month of November. 
 Abandoning his damaged vessel, he hired three small 
 galleys, and embarking again sailed northward up the 
 gulf, hi the course of his voyage he was in consider- 
 able danger from the Greek pirates, who swarmed in 
 those seas, but he succeeded, by the good sailing quali- 
 ties of his vessels, in escaping these ruthless corsairs, 
 and came to anchor in safetv at Zara, on the coast of 
 
232 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Dalmatia. Richard had assumed the disguise of a 
 humble pilgrim, and as his hair and beard had 
 grown long and his former rotundity of person had, 
 through sickness and anxiety, grown thin, while his 
 usual hearty look had assumed somewhat of a care- 
 worn expression, he made a very passable palmer in 
 appearance. On landing, however, he forgot his 
 new character, since the cowl don't make the monk, 
 and was so profusely generous with his gold, and so 
 debonair withal, that his royalty was surmised at 
 once. 
 
 Trieste was the point to which Richard now di- 
 rected Ins course, but a storm drove him ashore on 
 the coast of Istria, at some distance from this Aus- 
 trian port. From thence he determined to proceed 
 by land, and disguising himself as a merchant, tra- 
 velled on to Goritz, a town north of the city of Trieste, 
 situated in the province of that name. Richard sent 
 a messenger to the governor of the place for pass- 
 ports for Sir Baldwin de Bethune and suite, and a 
 merchant of Damascus of the name of Hugh, which 
 was the modest appellation assumed by the king. 
 To make favor with the governor and secure what 
 he wanted, Richard very imprudently sent a valuable 
 ruby ring as a present to him. The governor taking 
 it and at once remarking its beauty and worth, ob- 
 served to the messenger who bore it, " This is the 
 gift of a prince, and not of a merchant ; your mas- 
 ter's name is not Hugh, but Richard, King of Eng- 
 
Richard Recognised. 233 
 
 *and ; tell him he may come and go in peace, and 
 that although I am ordered to stop all pilgrims from 
 the Holy Land passing through my territory, I will 
 make him an exception, so generous and noble has 
 he proved himself by his princely offering." Richard 
 finding that he was discovered, and knowing that the 
 governor was Maynard, who probably bore him no 
 good, since he was a relative of the dead Conrad and 
 of the Emperor of Germany, became anxious about 
 his safety, and without more ado, purchased horses 
 for himself and some of his companions, and rode 
 away at a quick pace. Baldwin de Bethune and 
 others who remained behind were arrested by the 
 order of the governor, and word dispatched to May- 
 nard's brother, Frederick of Bretisan, of the arrival 
 and flight of Richard, and his probable passage 
 through his territory, now known as Saltzburg. 
 The governor's brother was accordingly on the 
 watch, and sure enough a party which corresponded 
 with the description sent of Richard and his compan- 
 ions, arrived at the hostel at Freisach. Frederick 
 had a retainer in his service, a Norman by birth, 
 who was sent at once by him to make out, if possible, 
 whether Richard was, as suspected, among the 
 strangers. The Norman was to ingratiate himself 
 with the party at the inn, and by the opportunity he 
 would thus have of sharing in their conversation,- 
 be enabled to learn who and what they were. He 
 was offered a large reward if he thus succeeded in 
 
234 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 the discovery of the king. The Norman appeared 
 to obey willingly his master's orders, and made his 
 way to the hostel, where he soon succeeded in making 
 himself at home with the new-comers. The Norman 
 was not long in discovering with whom he had to 
 deal, and was so overcome at the sight of the king of 
 his native land, that he fell at his feet, and telling 
 him with what design his master had sent him, en- 
 treated Richard to fly on the instant. He moreover 
 effectually aided him to escape by supplying him 
 with a fresh and fast horse. The Norman then re- 
 turned to Frederick and told him that there was no 
 ground for his suspicions whatsoever ; that the stran- 
 gers were just what they gave themselves out to be, 
 and no others, a merchant and some fellow-travellers. 
 Richard set out at once, taking with him a single 
 knight and a boy who understood German. The 
 rest of his companions were away, loitering about 
 the town, and there was too much occasion for dis- 
 patch to await their return. He knew that he 
 was the person sought, and believed there could be 
 no danger to those whom he left behind, so he sped 
 on his way. Richard, the knight, and the boy, pro- 
 ceeded on their journey with great caution, for they 
 were aware the whole country was now alive with 
 the intelligence that they were about, and every man 
 would be on the watch to lay their hands on them. 
 For three days and as many nights, Richard travel- 
 led on without tarrying, and scarcely eating any food. 
 
Richard Discovered. 235 
 
 At last, worn out with fatigue, and overcome with 
 hunger, he was obliged to come to a rest at Esperg, 
 a small village in the neighborhood of Vienna. Here 
 Richard and his knightly companion took up their 
 quarters in a mean hovel, in the most obscure part 
 of the village, where they hoped to remain unnoticed 
 and without interference. The German boy was 
 dispatched to the market-place in Vienna, which was 
 not far off, to obtain a supply of food and other neces- 
 saries, of which they were much in need. Caution 
 was enjoined upon the lad ; he was strictly to keep 
 his tongue in regard to the quality of his masters 
 and of their whereabouts. The youth passed to and 
 fro between the village and Vienna, without exciting 
 suspicion, several days, and the king began to hope 
 that the danger was passing, and that he might soon 
 continue his journey without fear of interruption. 
 One day, however, the messenger was supplied with 
 pome coin that Richard had brought from Palestine, 
 which bore the Syrian impress. When the youth 
 offered this in exchange for some commodity, the 
 chapman with whom he dealt began to suspect that 
 all was not right, and detaining the lad, gave inform- 
 ation to one of the magistrates of the city. He 
 was immediately brought before this dignitary and 
 closely questioned. The youth, true to his duty, 
 refused to answer all questions about the quality of 
 his masters and their abode. They were about re- 
 leasing him when they discovered in his girdle, a 
 
236 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 pair of gloves, such as were worn only by royal per- 
 sons or princes. This, renewed their suspicions, and 
 as they could not draw any information from the 
 lad by fair means, they resorted to foul, and submit- 
 ted the poor youth to the torture. His courage was 
 proof to the wringings of the thumb screw and the 
 agonies of the rack, but when the monsters talked of 
 wrenching out his tongue, the lad's fortitude could no 
 further go, and he told all he knew. A troop of 
 soldiers was immediately ordered to accompany the 
 boy to his masters' hiding-place and arrest the king 
 and his companion hi the name of Leopold, Duke of 
 Austria. 
 
 Richard was asleep when the soldiers arrived, but 
 aroused by their tramp, he started up and drawing 
 his sword dared them to their worst. Finding, 
 however, that resistance would be in vain, he de- 
 clared he was ready to give himself up, but only to 
 the Duke in person. Leopold Duke of Austria was 
 at that time in Vienna, and soon presented himself. 
 This was the prince that King Richard had con- 
 temptuously kicked and turned out of Acre, when 
 he refused to do his share of the work at the for- 
 tifications. Of course the king was now at the mercy 
 of his deadliest enemy. When Richard surrendered 
 his sword into the hands of the duke, Leopold show- 
 ing very clearly by his manner how delighted he 
 was to have his arch-enemy in his power, addressed 
 him thus : " You are fortunate, and you should con- 
 
Richard Imprisoned. 237 
 
 sider us rather as your deliverers than as your 
 enemies, for if you had fallen into the hands of any 
 of the friends of Conrad, who have been beating the 
 country around for you, you would have surely been 
 slain had you a hundred lives." King Richard was 
 then transferred to prison, but was treated with 
 some show of consideration on account of his royal 
 character. 
 
 The Emperor of Germany, however, as soon as 
 he learned of the great prize that had fallen into 
 the hands of the Duke of Austria exclaimed, "A 
 duke must not presume to imprison a king — that 
 belongs to an emperor." The Emperor Henry had, 
 as well as the Duke of Austria, his reasons for 
 hating Richard, and was glad at all hazards, to get 
 him into his power. It will be recollected that the 
 English king, after his struggle with Tancred of 
 Sicily, became his sworn friend, and took him under 
 his especial protection. Now, the emperor had 
 married Constance, who claimed the throne of Sicily 
 against Tancred, who was denounced by her as an 
 usurper of her rights. Since Richard's departure 
 from Messina, the emperor, in behalf of his wife, had 
 made an unsuccessful attempt upon Sicily, and 
 having been ingloriously defeated was preparing, at 
 the moment of Richard's capture, to revenge himself 
 upon Tancred. He was, of course, rejoiced to have 
 in his grasp the king of Sicily's most potent ally, 
 The emperor moreover was a fast friend of the King 
 
2h8 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 of Fiance, and was, no doubt, instigated directly by- 
 Philip to seize and make sure of the English king. 
 Richard was now in the midst and at the mercy of 
 his most implacable enemies. 
 
 So eager was the emperor to have the English 
 king in his power, that not content with summoning 
 the Duke of Austria, who was his vassal, to yield 
 up his royal prisoner, he paid over to him, to hasten 
 his compliance, the immense sum of sixty thousand 
 pounds. The king, having been duly delivered and 
 paid for, was immured in the strong castle of Duren- 
 stein on the Danube. This was an impregnable for- 
 tress, and was full manned with a great array of 
 soldiers, and the king so secretly and closely guarded 
 that he could have no communication whatsoever 
 with the world without, and the very place of his 
 confinement was a profound secret known only to 
 his bitterest enemies. A romantic story is current of 
 the means by which, at last, the concealed imprison- 
 ment of Richard was discovered. He was passion- 
 ately fond of poetry and music, and as he was no 
 contemptible wooer of the muses himself, he delighted 
 in the society of poets, the gay troubadours of the day. 
 Blondel de Nesle was one of the most famous of 
 these, and a chosen friend of the king, in his moments 
 of leisure, when he reposed himself from the fatigues 
 of warfare, and attuned his soul, seeking repose from 
 the rude discord of the battle-cry, to the calm, sweet 
 tones of poetry and music. The story runs, that 
 
The King Discovered. 239 
 
 this Blondel de Nesle was wandering by chance 
 along the roadsides of Austria, cheering his way 
 with song, now wafting his messages of love to the 
 embowered lattice of some forlorn, love-sick maiden, 
 and again raising a cheering song of hope to the iron- 
 barred window of the captive, when he arrived be- 
 neath the frowning battlements of the castle of 
 Durenstein. He here sent up a message of mercy, 
 borne upon the wings of poetry, which fluttered by 
 the ear and nestled in the heart of the captive mon- 
 arch, who recognized in the minstrel's song the 
 familiar words of his happy days, and the well- 
 known voice of his old companion. The king 
 reechoed the tones, and sent back, in sympathetic 
 narmony, strains which Blondel caught at once as 
 those of his beloved king. The minstrel now hurried 
 to England and made known his discovery. A less 
 romantic and probably more true account of the dis- 
 covery of King Richard's imprisonment is given by 
 the historians, whose matter-of-fact record we are 
 bound, in spite of the charms of romance and poetry, 
 to accept, however unwillingly. These uninteresting 
 truth-tellers relate, that a letter written by the 
 Emperor to Philip of France, with whom he was in 
 constant correspondence, about Richard, fell into the 
 hands of Longchamp, the friend of the king, who had 
 been appointed by him Chancellor of England, and 
 that thus his place of imprisonment became known. 
 The feeling of all Christendom was outraged when 
 
240 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 this nefarious conduct of the Austrian princes was 
 disclosed. Thus to profane the sacred rights of 
 hospitality by seizing a royal brother who was 
 peacefully travelling through a country with which 
 he was at peace, and that brother the mightiest cham- 
 pion of the great cause of the cross, which every 
 Christian prince was bound to uphold, was not only 
 an outrage upon the common courtesies of life, but 
 upon the sacredness of religion. The King's faithful 
 friends and loyal subjects were excited to a pitch of 
 indignation, almost beyond control, and would have 
 marched to the rescue of the great Richard had not 
 John, who now controlled the power of England, 
 prevented. The King's mother, Eleanor, was almost 
 distracted by the sad news, and unable to warm in 
 the wicked heart of her son John the least spark of 
 feeling for his wronged brother, wrote to the Pope 
 Celestine, urging him to thunder out against the 
 wicked doers who held her son in their grasp, and 
 were assuredly plotting his death, the anathemas 
 of the Church. Celestine accordingly anathema- 
 tized the princes who were concerned in this foul 
 conspiracy against Richard, who had proved so 
 worthy a son of Mother Church, and so great a 
 champion of her holy cause. 
 
 The Prince John pretended not to believe the re- 
 port of Richard's imprisonment, although he was 
 undoubtedly in the secret of the whole transaction, 
 and connived at the ruin of his brother. He gave 
 
The English Abbols. 241 
 
 out publicly that the king was dead, and prepared to 
 establish himself upon the throne. The friends of 
 Richard immediately sent two English abbots to try 
 and see him in Ins prison. 
 
 lb 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE stout heart of Richard never pined, though 
 inclosed within bars of iron in the impregnable 
 fortress of Durenstein. The stone did not weigh 
 down his spirits, nor the iron enter his soul, but 
 the rnerrie monarch bore his adverse fortune with 
 more than fortitude ; he gayly turned it to enjoy- 
 ment. His love of music and poetry served him 
 now a good turn, and he cheered many, a solitary 
 hour with verse-making, and singing his own songs 
 to the accompaniment of the lute. The king was no 
 mean Troubadour, and his compositions bear a favor- 
 able comparison with those of the most expert of his 
 day in the " gaye science." A poem of his, written 
 while in prison, is still extant, which our readers will 
 not read, we are sure, without some emotion, in sym- 
 pathy with its pathetic strain. 
 
 Richard's lament. 
 
 If captive wight attempt the tuneful strain, 
 His voice belike full dolefully will sound , 
 
 Yet to the sad, 'tis comfort to complain. 
 
 Friends have I store : and promises abound : 
 
 Shame on the niggards ! since these winters twain, 
 
 Unransomed still, I bear a tyrant's chain. 
 
Pleasant Times in Prison. 243 
 
 Full well they know, my lords aud nobles all, 
 Of England, Normandy, Guienne, Poictou, 
 
 Ne'er did I slight my poorest vassal's call, 
 But all whom wealth could buy from chains, withdrew. 
 
 Not in reproach I speak, or idly vain, 
 
 But I alone unpitied bear the chain. 
 
 My fate will show, "the dungeon and the grave, 
 Alike repel our kindred and our friends." 
 
 Here am I left their paltry gold to save ! 
 
 Sad fate is mine ; but worse their crime attends. 
 
 Their lord will die ; their conscience shall remain, 
 
 And tell them how long I wore tins galling chain. 
 
 It will be confessed that this is pretty fair for a 
 monarch, somewhat improved, no doubt, by this ver- 
 sion of Mr. Ellis, the famous collector of the " Speci- 
 mens." If Richard is not allowed the title of a king 
 among poets, no one will dispute his claims to being 
 a poet among kings. He did not always poetically 
 grieve in the sad strain of these verses, but often in- 
 dulged in the composition of love ditties and more 
 inspiriting effusions. 
 
 Nor are these verses to be taken as an indication 
 of the usual tone of Richard's spirits while in prison. 
 This lament was more poetical than real, and from 
 all accounts his animal spirits never failed him. 
 When his voice was not attuned to song, or when his 
 eye was not in a " fine frenzy rolling," he was at no 
 loss to pass his time pleasantly enough. There was 
 the companionship of the rude Austrian soldiers of 
 
244 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 his guard, with whom he often tested his skill in 
 feats of strength, and not seldom in bouts with the 
 flagon or goblet, in which the jovial monarch never 
 failed to come off" victor. He was fond, too, of relating 
 his adventures in the Holy Land, to which all soldiers 
 in those days were ready listeners, and would fight 
 over his battles with the Turks, and dwell upon skir- 
 mish and counter-skirmish, storm and siege, or, at 
 times, warming with his subject, would speak of the 
 glories of that sacred soil and of that hallowed city 
 which were yet unredeemed, and solemnly call all 
 Christendom to account for not rescuing them from 
 the profanation of the infidel. He would then vow, 
 with his uplifted hands, and eyes raised to heaven, to 
 devote himself in the future to the great cause, and 
 pledge his life, if it were spared, or again at liberty, 
 to its triumph. 
 
 The imperial jailer, Henry of Germany, began to 
 be ashamed of his vocation, so great was the indig- 
 nation expressed throughout Christendom of his out- 
 rage upon the rights of hospitality and his contempt 
 of all law. He now, to justify himself in the eyes 
 of the world, made a show of that justice which 
 his conduct toward Richard clearly proved he did 
 not reverence. He cited the English king before the 
 diet at Hagenau, and Richard was accordingly con- 
 veyed to that place under a strong escort of soldiers. 
 On his route, not far from the boundaries of Bavaria, 
 he met the two English abbots who had been dis- 
 
The King on Trial 245 
 
 patched by his friends in England. The king was 
 overjoyed at the meeting, and he discoursed with 
 them a long time, during which the subject uppermost 
 in his mind, the state of his kingdom,, was the chief 
 topic. The abbots gave him full particulars of the 
 invasion of his Norman provinces by the king of 
 France, and of the noble resistance of his faithful 
 subjects, headed by his brave baron and fellow- 
 crusader, the Earl of Leicester, who sallied out from 
 Rouen, and defeating Philip, had forced him to retire 
 ■within his own territory. They told him how John had 
 been constantly plotting against his brother's rights, 
 how he had taken the castles of Windsor and Walling- 
 ford, and having marched upon London, demanded 
 the crown, persisting in the statement that Richard 
 was dead and that he himself was now the lawful 
 heir. And again how the faithful barons and loyal 
 subjects of the Crown had resisted this usurpation 
 and forced John to retreat. For a moment Richard 
 pondered in silence over this intelligence, but instantly 
 shaking off the sorrow with which a brother's trea- 
 son weighed down a brother's heart, he gaily said, 
 " John will never win a crown by his courage." 
 
 The king was now in the presence of the assembly 
 convoked at Hagenau to try him. The charges 
 uttered against him were, his alliance with Tancred, 
 the usurper of Sicily ; his conduct toward Isaac of 
 Cyprus, and the detention of his daughter, who was 
 niece of the Duchess of Austria; his having plucked 
 
246 The Lion-Hear ted King. 
 
 down the standard of Austria from the turrets of 
 Acre, and his degrading treatment of the duke ; his 
 disobedience to his liege, Lord Philip of France ; his 
 connivance at the murder of Conrad ; and, lastly, his 
 truce with Saladin, by which he had left the holy city 
 to his mercy. Eichard boldly confronted his accusers, 
 and began by telling them, that if he merely con- 
 sulted his pride and his rights as an independent 
 sovereign, he avouM treat their charges with the con- 
 temptuous silence they merited. He, however, as a 
 Christian prince, as one whose life was pledged to 
 the holy cause of the Cross, and with which his con- 
 duct now arraigned was so closely interwoven, would 
 waive his rights as a sovereign and humble his pride as 
 king and refute every charge, that Christianity might 
 not suffer in his person. Eichard then vindicated 
 himself, and presented his statements with so much 
 clearness, justified his conduct by arguments so 
 forcible, and spoke with such an expression of truth 
 and eloquence, that every man in the assembly was 
 convinced of his innocence, and struck with admi- 
 ration for the nobleness of his defence. The Em- 
 peror Henry was completely overcome, and, rising 
 from his throne, threw" himself into the arms of the 
 king and acknowledged his triumph. 
 
 The German emperor, however, instead of releasing 
 Eichard, whom in the first place he had no legal right 
 to imprison or to try, and now that he had acknow- 
 edged his innocence, no show of reason for detaining, 
 
A High Price for a King. 247 
 
 still kept him. imprisoned. This emperor was an ava- 
 ricious prince, and knowing the value of his captive, 
 was determined to improve the occasion for adding 
 to his treasury. The miserable, trafficking spirit of 
 this imperial jobber would have bee,n a disgrace to 
 the meanest chapman in his kingdom. This mean 
 emperor had no right to the person of Eichard, he 
 acknowledged that he had none, and yet persevered 
 in the wrong, that he might turn it into money. The 
 mean, dirty, peddling, dishonest prince began to haggle 
 for a price at once, and as all the advantage was on 
 his side by accident, he took care to secure it, and 
 made terms which were as dishonorable as they were 
 profitable to himself. He made Richard resign his 
 kingdom into his hands as sovereign lord, then restored 
 it to him as vassal under the condition of a payment 
 of five thousand pounds a year. The greedy, griping 
 monarch was not even now contented, but demanded 
 one hundred and fifty thousand marks, about a mil- 
 lion and a half of our money, into the bargain, an 
 enormous sum of money in those days. The king 
 himself was not prepared to assent to these terms, 
 but promised to consult his friends in England as to 
 the possibility of raising such a sum. In the mean- 
 time the emperor kept his gripe upon the royal 
 captive. 
 
 Longchamp, the old chancellor and devoted friend 
 of Richard, now arrived,, and was received by the king 
 with great warmth of affection. At the same time 
 
248 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Hubert, bishop of Salisbury, who had been Richard's 
 companion at arms in the campaign in the Holy- 
 Land, arrived from Sicily, where he had heard, on 
 his way to England, of his royal master's imprison- 
 ment. The latter was now dispatched at once to 
 arrange for the payment of the proposed ransom. 
 Longchamp remained to cheer the king with his 
 society. 
 
 In the meantime Philip of France and Prince 
 John hearing of the prospect of Richard's liberation, 
 conspired together to prevent an event which would 
 prove so fatal to their own evil designs. They 
 rightly deemed that the most persuasive appeal to 
 be addressed to the avaricious emperor was through 
 his purse, where his heart was to be found. They 
 accordingly promised to pay Henry a larger sum 
 than the whole amount of the ransom, provided he 
 would keep the king in his clutches. This awakened 
 the greedy appetite of the royal huckster, and he 
 was about to strike what seemed to his mean soul 
 the better bargain, when the other German princes, 
 hearing of this dishonorable transaction, vehemently 
 protested against it, and forced the emperor to keep 
 to the promise he had so solemnly made to Richard. 
 
 The bishop of Salisbury, who had now arrived in 
 England, succeeded, in spite of every obstruction 
 raised by the king of France and Prince John, in 
 obtaining by a tax the stipulated sum for the ransom. 
 England contributed the principal portion of the 
 
The King Set Free. 249 
 
 required amount. The rich plate of the churches 
 and monasteries was sold, the Cistercian monks gave 
 the proceeds of a whole year's produce of wool, of 
 which they were the chief cultivators, and the 
 knights, parochial clergy, and the towns, were taxed 
 largely to make up the sum required. This amount- 
 ed to only two-thirds of the whole ransom, which 
 was all that was to be paid down, it having been 
 agreed to pay the remainder at some future time. 
 The king's mother, Eleanor, and the archbishop of 
 Rouen, now proceeded to Mentz, where the ransom 
 was paid, and Richard, in accordance with the agree- 
 ment, set free after an imprisonment, of fourteen 
 months. At the moment of his liberation, the emperor 
 showed the king letters from his brother John and 
 Philip of France, in which these base princes pro- 
 posed that Richard should be kept in captivity, for a 
 consideration larger than the ransom, and which the 
 avaricious Henry was only prevented, as we have 
 seen, from accepting, by the interposition of the other 
 German princes. 
 
 Richard now took his departure for England, nor 
 did he feel himself secure as long as he was in the 
 land of his former captivity. It is recorded that the 
 emperor, after the departure of his prisoner, regretted 
 his release, and, eager to secure the friendship of 
 Philip and John, and their money, sent messengers 
 after hirnto endeavor to rearrest him. Richard, 
 however, was too rapid in his movements, and hav- 
 
250 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 ing set out from Mentz and hurried through Cologne, 
 finally set sail from Antwerp, and arrived in safety 
 at Sandwich, in England, on the 20th of March, in 
 the year 1194. He had been absent from his king- 
 dom four years. 
 
 ' ; Take care of yourself the devil has broken loose" 
 were the words written to John by Philip of France 
 when he heard of the king's liberation. His enemies 
 had reason to be alarmed. Their fright was only 
 equalled by the joy of his faithful barons and loyal 
 subjects. The English people received their king 
 with great enthusiasm, and his progress to London 
 was a continued scene of festivity, cheered with 
 loud acclamations of delight and loyalty. On arriv- 
 ing in the capital, the citizens of London welcomed 
 him with a magnificent banquet. A German baron 
 who was present on the occasion was so much struck 
 with the magnificence of the entertainment and the 
 evidence of wealth, that he remarked to Richard, 
 " Oh king ! if our emperor had suspected this, you 
 would not have been let oft' so easily." 
 
 The lion-hearted king, however, did not waste his 
 time in junkettings and merry-makings, but busied 
 himself at once about setting his kingdom in order. 
 He commenced with redressing his wrongs and pun- 
 ishing his enemies. It was clear from undoubted 
 evidence that Prince John was engaged in an exten- 
 sive conspiracy, which had no less an object than dis- 
 possessing his brother of his throne and all his 
 
The Traitor John Punished. 251 
 
 dominions. By the help of Philip of France the 
 traitor brother was already in possession of some of 
 the strongest fortresses in Normandy, and his agents 
 were busy in England plotting their schemes and 
 striving to corrupt the loyalty of the realm. 
 
 The king of England convoked a council, before 
 which the evidences of Prince John's guilt were laid, 
 and which were so clear, that it was determined to 
 punish him at once by depriving him of his posses- 
 sions. Richard accordingly mustered a force and 
 hastened to put into execution the decree of the 
 council. At his first approach most of the castles 
 and fortresses yielded without a blow. The garrison 
 of Nottingham, however, proved more obstinate, but 
 a vigorous assault, led on by the king himself, soon 
 brought them to terms, and fealty to Richard was 
 no longer disputed. Several ecclesiastics and barons 
 high in authority, who had been implicated in the 
 conspiracy, were deprived of their sees and offices, 
 and John was declared, in consequence of his mani- 
 fold treasons, to have forfeited his right to the suc- 
 cession, which was voided in favor of young Arthur, 
 the prince of Bretagne, nephew of the king. 
 
 A recoronation of Richard was proposed by the 
 Great Council of the kingdom, to which the king 
 yielded, though he contended against the necessity. 
 He was then crowned again with great pomp and 
 ceremony, at Winchester, on Easter day. Having 
 settled every thing on a secure basis in England, he 
 
252 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 now turned his attention to Normandy. Previous to 
 setting out, however, he was obliged to have recourse 
 to the usual expedient of monarchs when their treasu- 
 ries are low — a general taxation of his subjects. To 
 the sums raised in this way he added something 
 more by the putting up to public sale various offices 
 in the government, to which there were always to be 
 found ready bidders, whose weakness and vanity 
 made them desire to possess what those qualities 
 unfitted them to fill. 
 
 The English army were in camp at Portsmouth, 
 awaiting the king to lead them over to Normandy, 
 where they burned to avenge him upon Philip of 
 France. Eichard now arrived and embarked with his 
 troops, but was forced to put back in consequence of 
 a severe storm in the English Channel. He finally 
 reached Harfleur after a detention of some two weeks. 
 His brother John hastened to meet him, together with 
 their mother, Eleanor. The former threw himself 
 at the feet of Richard and craved his pardon, which 
 the queen entreated with all the earnest affection of 
 a mother's heart. Richard magnanimously forgave 
 the unnatural brother and black-hearted traitor, but 
 he could not resist indulging in a sarcasm which 
 showed how shrewdly his sngacity judged the charao 
 ter of the traitor while his heart forgave the brother. 
 " I forgive him," said Richard, " and hope I shall as 
 easily forget his injuries as he will forget my par- 
 don." 
 
John's Barbarous Cruelty. 253 
 
 John signalized his treason to his ally, Philip of 
 France, and his reconciliation with his brother, by 
 an act of barbarous cruelty, which proved him as 
 malignant as he was deceitful. Before quitting the 
 French, to whose alliance he had solemnly pledged 
 his faith, and bound himself to accept of no terms 
 with the English without the concurrence of France, 
 he invited to a banquet all the officers of the French 
 garrison which had been placed at his disposal for 
 the defence of Evreux. In full confidence, the guests 
 assembled, and secure in the faith of hospitality, the 
 sacred rights of friendship, and the solemn obliga- 
 tions of treaties, gaily yielded to the social enjoy- 
 ments of the hour. The prince, whose skill in deceit 
 was equal to the malevolent wickedness of his heart, 
 received his visitors with a mask of courteous kind- 
 ness, which covered a welcome, the nature of which 
 they never suspected. The French officers were 
 then in the unguarded hour of convivial enjoyment, 
 mercilessly massacred by the prince, and their blood 
 mingled profusely with the wine they had poured out 
 in honor of their host. The blood-stained monster 
 then hurried to his brother, at whose feet we have 
 seen him prostrate, suing for that mercy which his 
 cruel and selfish heart knew only as a refuge for his 
 own craven spirit. 
 
 John was forgiven by Richard as a brother, but his 
 ill deeds were never forgotten by him as a king. He 
 took care that the scheming traitor should be balked 
 
254 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 for the future in his designs, and accordingly the 
 prince's dark wings of evil were effectually clipped. 
 John was deprived of all his possessions, and as he 
 was without capacity, there was no danger from his 
 head while his hands were fettered. 
 
 King Richard's appearance in Normandy took 
 Philip of France by surprise like an unexpected 
 apparition. The French king thinking that the dis- 
 orders of England were sufficient to engage all the 
 attention and absorb all the energies of Richard, 
 thought that he might with safety carry out his 
 designs upon Normandy. Philip accordingly had 
 begun his campaign and was deliberately laying 
 siege to Verneuil, when he was surprised by the 
 intelligence of the arrival of the king of England. 
 This was a complication of affairs that Philip had 
 not calculated upon, and not caring to measure 
 swords with so formidable a champion, he fled from 
 before the walls of Verneuil like the mist before the 
 coming sun. Richard entered the town without strik- 
 ing a blow, and after repairing the walls which had been 
 battered by the French, continued in pursuit of the 
 enemy. The fortress of Loches, in Touraine, was in 
 the possession of Philip, and had been attacked with- 
 out success by the forces of Navarre, under the com- 
 mand of a brother of the English queen, Berengaria. 
 Richard now marched to the relief of his allies, and 
 by a rapid assault won back his fortress. Philip 
 did as much mischief as he could as he fled before 
 
Richard in Pursuit of Philip. 255 
 
 the approach of Eichard. He took a small castle 
 in the neighborhood of Rouen, and while there made 
 a conquest, for which he had to thank his good luck 
 and the recklessness of his enemy. The Earl of 
 Leicester, the worthy associate of Richard in the 
 crusades, was in command at that time of Rouen, and, 
 with his usual disregard of danger, was riding out 
 unattended in the neighborhood of the French camp, 
 when he was set upon by a troop, of horse, who 
 succeeded in capturing him, although he struggled 
 bravely for liis liberty. The French king rejoiced 
 at the capture, and fastly bound him in prison, where 
 he suffered until his redemption long after by an im- 
 mense ransom. 
 
 As Richard came up, the French retreated, and 
 drew back as far as Evreux, which fortress they 
 stormed, and after plundering, burned the town. 
 The king of England at last, by forced marches, 
 came up with the enemy near Fretoval, and attacked 
 them with such spirit, that they were forced to 
 a precipitate flight, leaving behind them their bag- 
 gage and a large number of dead. Among other 
 things a military chest fell into the hands of Richard, 
 which is said to have contained a collection of import- 
 ant documents, for the loss of which the French his- 
 torians grieve to this day. The fugitives were 
 eagerly pursued, and Richard was the foremost in the 
 pursuit. He pushed on for a royal prize ; he was 
 determined to take Philip himself captive, and the 
 
256 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 French king would have surely fallen into his hands, 
 had he not separated from his army and hid himself in 
 a neighboring church. The English king, followed by 
 his cavalry, pushed on with unabated vigor until he 
 had driven every Frenchman across the borders of 
 Normandy into his own territory. A truce for a 
 year was now concluded, and Eichard returned to 
 England. 
 
 On his arrival in his English dominions, the king 
 was met by Baldwin de Bethune, the old companion 
 of his captivity in Germany, who had been left with 
 Leopold of Austria as one of the hostages for the 
 payment of that part of Richard's ransom which was 
 to accrue to him. The duke had became impatient 
 for the settlement of the debt, and accordingly dis- 
 patched Baldwin to the English king with a message, 
 to the effect that if the money was not immediately 
 forthcoming, the heads of all the English hostages 
 should fall by the axe. Richard, much against his 
 will, for his subjects could illy' bear the necessary 
 tax, and he was irritated by the audacity of the 
 duke's threat, paid the sum, and sent, moreover, 
 according to his agreement, the Cyprian princess 
 and his niece, the " maid of Brittany," sister of 
 Prince Authur, who had been promised in marriage 
 to the son of the Duke of Austria. 
 
 Before Baldwin de Bethune had arrived with 
 the money and his charge, the duke of Austria 
 was no more. While Leopold was riding in the 
 
Royal Surgery. 257 
 
 tournament his horse fell, crushing his ancle, frac- 
 turing the bones of his leg, and wounding the 
 flesh so severely that there was no hope but in 
 amputating the limb. No surgeon could be found 
 sufficiently confident in his skill to perform the opera- 
 tion, although the necessity of it was so evident as 
 to be acknowledged by all. The leg now began to 
 mortify, and the king, losing all patience, and aware 
 of the consequences of delay, courageously deter- 
 mined to rid himself of it. He accordingly called 
 for a battle-ax and a mallet, and placing the sharp 
 edge of the former just above the dark line which 
 marked the boundaries between the dead and living 
 part, and having given the mallet to his chamberlain, 
 ordered him to strike upon the head of the axe, and 
 with one blow the foot and ancle were severed from 
 the limb. It was, however, too late, and the opera- 
 tion too rudely performed, to be of any avail, and the 
 end of the duke was evidently fast approaching. 
 Losing all hope, he called for his confessor and asked 
 for absolution. The priest insisted, as a condition, 
 that the duke should make reparation to the utmost 
 of his power for his cruel treatment of the great 
 champion of the Cross, Eichard of England. Leopold 
 then, having ordered the ransom to be remitted and 
 the hostages to be delivered up, was absolved of all his 
 sins and yielded up the ghost. His son, however, 
 as soon as his father was entombed, was disposed to 
 disobey the orders that had been issued, but his 
 17 
 
258 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 clergy so strenuously insisted upon the fulfillment of 
 the late duke's dying commands, that he yielded. 
 The ransom was accordingly remitted and the host- 
 ages liberated. Baldwin de Bethune heard the intel- 
 ligence on his route before he had reached Austria, 
 and immediately retraced his steps with the money 
 in his keeping and the princesses under his charge. 
 
 During the short enjoyment of peace, Richard, 
 whose pleasures, like his occupations, partook of a 
 martial character, established throughout England 
 tournaments, at which his nobles might invigorate 
 their powers and exercise their skill, and archery 
 meetings, where his English yeomen could, by prac- 
 tice with the bow, strengthen their hand and give 
 certainty to their aim. The king always shared in 
 these manly sports, and was as often a competitor 
 for the silver arrow or tankard of plate with the 
 humble bowman as for the crown from the hands of 
 beauty, with the chivalrous noble, or knight of the 
 tourney. 
 
 The king of England was never long at peace, and 
 before one truce was ended he was giving occasion 
 for another. The expense of these continued wars 
 was the only check to Richard's martial ardor ; he 
 was ever ready with his fire, but not always supplied 
 with the necessary ammunition. His frequent ex- 
 peditions into Normandy were the source of an 
 immense expenditure of money, which was chiefly 
 derived from taxes upon his English subjects, par- 
 
An Early Democrat. 259 
 
 ticularly the citizens of London. The taxation now 
 became so frequent and burdensome that the worthy 
 citizens first remonstrated, then openly resisted. 
 They found in William Fitzosbert, called also 
 Longbeard, (from not shaving, contrary to the cus- 
 tom of the Commoners,) a fit leader for the popular 
 cause. He was a citizen of London, and prided him- 
 self upon his true Saxon descent, and was beloved 
 by the common people as a representative of the 
 truly national race to which they belonged, and 
 among whom a hatred of their Norman conquerors 
 still rankled. To these claims from his origin to the 
 sympathies of the people he added those personal 
 qualities which endear a man to the popular heart. 
 He was a person of great strength and activity, and 
 of undaunted courage. He was a fluent haranguer, 
 and was skillful in his appeals to the passions and 
 active energies of the people. So closely had he 
 attached himself to the affections of the lower classes, 
 that they termed him the " King of the Poor." 
 
 Fitzosbert now became a power in the land, and 
 he accordingly determined to seek redress for the 
 wrongs of the people. The king being in Normandy, 
 Fitzosbert went over to lay his complaints before 
 him. Richard received him with a consideration 
 that was due to his position as the chosen champion 
 of the English people, and promised redress. Nothing, 
 however, was done, and Fitzosbert prepared to obtain 
 by compulsion what he could not acquire by favor. 
 
260 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 All he asked in behalf of the suffering people was, 
 that they should not be unequally taxed for the wars 
 which the king and his Norman barons were con- 
 stantly waging for their own glory or in consequence 
 of their personal quarrels. The burden of the taxa- 
 tion had fallen almost entirely upon the hard-working 
 citizens of London and the burgesses of the towns. 
 Fitzosbert and his followers did not demand, as they 
 might well have done, a cessation of these absurd 
 wars and a complete relief from the prodigal waste 
 of the revenues of England, but only the common 
 justice of not being disproportionately oppressed. 
 
 On the return of Fitzosbert to England, he organ- 
 ized his followers in secret political associations, and 
 fifty-two thousand men are said to have been thus 
 enrolled. They pledged themselves to implicit 
 obedience to their leader, and he now became so con- 
 fident in his cause and his power to sustain it, that he 
 openly addressed the people of London, who daily 
 gathered in crowds at St. Paul's Cross to listen to 
 the fervid appeals of the eloquent advocate of the 
 popular cause. The wealthy citizens, as usual, were 
 the first to take alarm. They feared for their strong 
 boxes, and the very marks in their money-bags began 
 to shake with fright. They had favored the cause 
 when there was a promise of its being gained without 
 expense, and of its adding to the balance in their 
 favor in the ledger. Now, however, things looked 
 dangerous, the beggarly people, who had every thing 
 
Fitzosbert before the Council. 261 
 
 excited, would be under no check, but run wildly into 
 riot, were gaining an ascendancy full of risk to pro- 
 perty. Nothing would be secure from their unbridled 
 license, and the wealth of the citizens being nearest 
 at hand would be first plundered. This matter had 
 gone far enough, and it must now be frowned down 
 by the respectable and those who had great interests 
 at stake in the country. Thus reasoned these worthy 
 citizens as they trembled in incubation over heaps of 
 money, and casting their eager eyes upon bolts and 
 locks, and turning their quick ears to every stir with- 
 out, whispered, tremulously, that they "hoped the 
 mob might be put down." 
 
 Fitzosbert was cited now to appear before a coun- 
 cil, to answer the heinous charge of having inflamed 
 the poor and the middle classes with the love of lib- 
 erty and happiness. He did not resist the summons, 
 but presented himself at once with such a formidable 
 array of followers, that it was not considered prudent 
 to proceed with the trial at present, so the " King of 
 the Poor" was borne off in triumph by the mob. 
 
 It was now attempted by the authorities to gain 
 over the people to the cause of order, and by promises 
 and liberal largesses, they so far succeeded as to 
 induce many of the poorest to pledge their children 
 as hostages for their good conduct. This deprived 
 Fitzosbert of much of his popular support. Some 
 of the wealthy citizens, eager to make favor with the 
 ting, volunteered their services and promised to 
 
262 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 deliver up the favorite of the people. They could 
 not venture to attack him openly, for he was yet too 
 formidable, notwithstanding the disaffection of many 
 of his followers, to be touched otherwise than with 
 the utmost caution. A wealthy citizen, called Geof 
 frey, and another whose name has not escaped the 
 oblivion of centuries, undertook to capture Fitzos- 
 bert. They accordingly went about constantly 
 throughout London, followed by an armed band of 
 men, sworn to obedience, and hunted their victim 
 through every nook and corner of the city. They 
 at last espied him in the street, with only nine men 
 in his company, and set upon him with their large 
 force. Fitzosbert struggled desperately, and draw- 
 ing his long knife, plunged it in the heart of Geoffrey, 
 who was foremost in the attack, and then with his 
 brave followers fought his way to the sanctuary of a 
 neighboring church. Driven from the altar, these 
 desperate fellows took refuge in the tower, where 
 they made a successful resistance against a crowd of 
 blood-thirsty persecutors. Unable to oust them from 
 their position, it was suggested by one of the crowd 
 that fire should be tried, and accordingly the tower 
 was soon in a blaze, and Fitzosbert and his comrades 
 thus driven out. As they issued from the burning 
 building they were seized and bound. A son of that 
 Geoffrey who had fallen in the first attempt to seize 
 the popular hero took the opportunity, when his 
 enemy was helpless, of striking a vindictive blow. 
 
Fitzosbert Hung. 263 
 
 and plunged his sword deep into the bowels of the 
 unfortunate captive. Fitzosbert, with his entrails 
 protruding and his blood flowing copiously, was then 
 dragged at the tail of a horse to the London Tower, 
 and being there confronted by the Regent of the 
 kingdom, was charged with treason and condemned 
 to be hung. He then, with his companions, was 
 taken to the gallows and hung, as a terror to all 
 lovers of the people and friends of liberty. Thus 
 died Fitzosbert, one of the earliest martyrs to the 
 cause of freedom. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The state of England and Normandy gave full 
 occupation to the busy activities of Richard's energy. 
 Had not the mind of the king been fully engaged in 
 reconciling his English people to the oppressive bur- 
 dens which the expense of endless war imposed upon 
 them, and his arm in striking blow upon blow in 
 defence of his Norman subjects and dominions, there 
 can be little doubt that he would have again sought 
 in the Holy Land, amid the former scenes of his 
 glory, a wider field for his ambition and a greater 
 triumph for his fame. Notwithstanding the truce 
 which had been agreed upon for three years, the 
 Crusade had again begun in little more than twelve 
 months after the departure of the king of England 
 from Acre. 
 
 The immediate cause of this renewal of hostilities 
 between the Christian and the Turk was the death of 
 the great Saladin. This remarkable prince died at 
 Damascus, leaving behind him a fame that is not 
 surpassed by that of any hero, heathen or Christian. 
 As a warrior, if judged according to the science of 
 our day, he was unequalled by any of his cotempo- 
 raries. In the conduct of a long war, where the 
 14 
 
Character of Saladin. 265 
 
 capacious head has to devise and guide, as well as 
 the strong arm to strike, he showed himself a con- 
 summate general. In the impetuous onset, in the 
 hand-to-hand struggle, which was the usual kind of 
 warfare of the day, he was surpassed by the great 
 Richard, whose impetuous courage, sustained by 
 unequalled physical strength and vigor, made him 
 supreme. In a later age, with a different system of 
 tactics, where the fate of the battle does not depend 
 upon the ferocity or the muscle of a leader, Saladin 
 would undoubtedly deserve the highest rank. This 
 great Turk was no less in advance of his age, in the 
 humanity than in the science of war. He showed a 
 moderation, a generous disinterestedness in his con- 
 duct toward an enemy, which was as much in accord- 
 ance with the holy spirit of Christianity as it con- 
 trasted with the ferocity of the Christian warrior. 
 
 As a king, while in the enjoyment of peace, he 
 proved himself a great ruler and a benefactor of his 
 people. He established wise laws and administered 
 them justly. He improved the-resources of his coun- 
 try by the construction of works of public utility, 
 and added to the happiness of his countrymen by 
 increasing their sources of pleasure. He built the 
 fortresses of Cairo, and adorned the city with palaces. 
 He established a hospital and laid out magnificent 
 gardens. He founded an academy and established a 
 granary abounding with plenty. Personally he was 
 brave and generous ; he never shunned danger to 
 
266 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 save himself, and eagerly sought occasion to benefit 
 others. He courageously resisted the whole order 
 of Assassins, whose secret blow frightened all but 
 Saladin into the silence and unresisting acquiescence 
 of fear. He dared their deadly enmity, and seemed 
 to bear a life protected by a superior power against 
 those demons of darkness. He was attacked three 
 times during his career, and although wounded sur- 
 vived. On one occasion, during the siege of Aleppo, 
 an Assassin, who was disguised as one of his attend- 
 ants, wounded him in the head, but Saladin, not much 
 harmed, drew his sword and slew him on the irfstant. 
 Another sprung to finish the dead man's office, but 
 the guards were before him and struck him down, 
 and immediately a third rushed forward, but met 
 with the same fate as his brethren. 
 
 When Saladin became Sultan the treasury of Cairo 
 came into his possession. This treasury was the 
 accumulation of two centuries, and its contents had 
 been gathered from Africa, Egypt, Palestine, and 
 Arabia. It contained seven hundred pearls of 
 immense size, an emerald of a span long and an inch 
 in thickness, enormous heaps of gold coin, and bars 
 of gold and silver bullion, and stores of translucent 
 amber, and the aromatic gums of oriental lands. In 
 addition to this wealth there was a library, said to 
 contain 2,600,000 books, enriched by all the learning 
 of the wise men of the East. These facts are stated 
 by Von Hammer on the authority of an Arabic his- 
 
The Last Words of Saladin. 267 
 
 torian. Saladin generously distributed some of this 
 treasure among his people, and wisely appropriated 
 the rest for the expenses of his administration, and 
 the construction of canals, aqueducts, and other works 
 of public utility. 
 
 The last words of Saladin were in character with 
 this great man's life. They were in contempt of 
 mere worldly renown and in honor of heavenly 
 charity. As he was about dying he ordered that 
 liberal supplies of money should be distributed 
 among the poor, without distinction of Jew, Christ- 
 ian or Mahometan ; and with his last breath he en- 
 joined upon his followers to bear his winding-sheet 
 as a standard throughout Cairo, while the heralds, 
 going before, should shout aloud, " This is all that 
 remains to the mighty Saladin, the conqueror of the 
 East:' 
 
 Saladin committed a great error as a statesman in 
 the distribution of his dominions equally among his 
 twelve children. His sense of justice as a father got 
 the better of his policy as a king. This dismember- 
 ment was fatal to the Saracen power, and accordingly 
 was resisted by the wisest of the Turkish chiefs. 
 They declared for Saphadin, the brother of the late 
 Sultan, who had shown himself by his valor and dis- 
 cretion worthy to succeed him. The adherents of the 
 twelve princes resisted this usurpation, and a civil 
 war, with the usual concomitants of disorder and 
 weakness, ensued. The Christian potentates of 
 
268 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 Europe thought this a favorable opportunity, in spite 
 of the truce, to strike a How for the holy cause, and 
 accordingly the Germans and Italians, under the 
 sanction of the Pope and all Christendom, invaded 
 Palestine. 
 
 Philip of Champagne, then the nominal emperor of 
 Jerusalem, the nephew of Richard and brave comrade 
 of his uncle in the Crusade, prepared to lead his own 
 forces, strengthened by the allies, into this new strug- 
 gle for the prize of the Holy Sepulchre ; but as he 
 was proudly reviewing his troops on their march out 
 of the citadel of Acre, the balcony on which he 
 stood gave way, and he was killed on the spot. 
 This was a severe blow to Richard, who loved him 
 with great affection, and looked to him as the chief 
 hope of the Christian cause in the Holy Land. 
 
 France and England bore no part in this fresh 
 Crusade. They were too busy with the heathen 
 practice of fighting with each other, to strike a blow 
 for Christianity. After a somewhat protracted truce 
 for such breakers of the peace as Richard and Philip, 
 they were again in hostilities fiercer than ever. 
 They invaded each other's dominions and laid waste 
 the territory with the fire and the sword. The king 
 of England was, as usual, victorious in almost every 
 engagement with his enemy. The last victory which 
 we have to record of the many, which form an aggre- 
 gate of successful warfare that the bloody annals of 
 few great leaders can equal, took place on a plain 
 
The Last Battle. 269 
 
 near Gisors. The field was clear, the forces were 
 well matched in strength and numbers. Richard led 
 his English and Normans, and Philip his French. 
 They met with a seeming resolve to settle by this 
 well-balanced engagement the long-contested claims 
 of superiority. Both kings were early in the encoun- 
 ter, urging on their followers by spirited appeals and 
 brave example. Richard's towering height was seen 
 as ever in the thickest of the fight, and the might of 
 his blow felt and recorded by the heaps of the dead 
 wherever it fell. Philip, too, showed no lack of 
 spirit and personal daring. The result seemed uncer- 
 tain for several hours, now victory appeared secure to 
 the one, and again to the other, when the lion-hearted 
 king, gathering all his strength and followed by some 
 of his bravest knights, made one of those impetuous 
 onsets, which no enemy had yet resisted, and crush- 
 ing down the foremost ranks, put the French to flight. 
 As the enemy fled, thronging together in thick con- 
 fusion, over the river Epte, near Gisors, the bridge 
 gave way and large numbers were precipitated into 
 its depths. King Philip was among them, and wap 
 only saved by the devotion of some of his men. 
 His life and liberty were both in imminent hazard. 
 Many were drowned, and among them no less than 
 thirty of the flower of the nobility and knighthood of 
 France, while many hundreds were taken prisoners. 
 Richard in his announcement of the victory stated } 
 "This day I have made the king of France drink 
 
270 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 deep of the waters of the Epte." Among his glo- 
 ries of the day it is recorded that the English king 
 had dismounted three knights in one single charge 
 and secured them as captives. 
 
 The monarchs seemed sated with blood, and a truce 
 was agreed upon for five years, with a better pros- 
 pect of a continuance than any that had yet been 
 struck between the belligerents. 
 
 Richard had some affairs of his own now to settle. 
 An insurrection of unruly barons summoned him to 
 Aquitaine, where he immediately proceeded, and soon 
 quelled, with his usual vigor, the turbulence of his 
 vassals. The king now seemed to be at rest, with a 
 fair prospect of a happy and quiet termination to his 
 agitated life. But little more than forty years of 
 age, with a constitution of iron, that the campaign in 
 the Holy Land, with its pestilential diseases and its 
 fierce warfare, had, in spite of its rude shocks, left 
 firm, with an energy of will and might of arm, which 
 resistance seemed only to weld to greater tenacity 
 and more enduring power, with a youth early disci- 
 plined to arms, and a manhood exercised in constant 
 conflict, Richard stood forth proud in the grandeur 
 of human beauty and strength, a tower of life, which 
 seemed to bid defiance to the insidious approaches of 
 disease, the violence of hostile attack, or even to the 
 might of all-conquering death itself. 
 
 The king, however, was not free from the super- 
 stition of his day, and his mind was now darkened 
 
The Shadoto of Death. 271 
 
 by a shadow which seemed to be cast by a coming 
 event. He would often repeat, in tones of melan 
 choly foreboding, as if tolling his own doom, a weird- 
 like ballad, in which some prophet of woe had fore- 
 told that the arrow was being wrought in Limousin 
 which was to speed to the heart of the mighty king 
 the fatal message of death. 
 
 An occasion soon offered to arouse Richard from 
 his despondency. One of his barons, Vidomar, vis- 
 count of Limoges, had found on his land a large 
 treasure of gold and rich jewels, which some fright- 
 ened possessor in those disturbed times of violence 
 and plunder had buried. Vidomar refused to give 
 up only a small portion of this lucky prize, while 
 the king claimed the whole on the score of his being 
 the liege lord and the viscount his vassal. Vidomar 
 had deposited the treasure within the strong walls of 
 his Castle of Chaluz, and seemed resolved to defend 
 the gold and the jewels at the hazard of his life. On 
 the approach of Richard, however, the count and his 
 garrison took fright and offered to surrender the cas- 
 tle and its contents, provided their lives were spared. 
 The king would not listen to any terms, but sent 
 word that he should give no quarter and would have 
 castle, treasure, and the life of every man who 
 defended them, and hang each villain who survived 
 the assault upon the battlements of the fortress. As 
 the king, accompanied by Marchadee, the captain of 
 the mercenary troops of Brabant, who were now in 
 
272 The Lion-Hearted King. 
 
 the pay of Richard, was riding about the walls of 
 Chaluz, minutely inspecting their structure and seek- 
 ing for a proper point to make the assault and open a 
 breach, a youth of the name of Bertrand de Gurdun 
 recognized Richard, and drawing his bow, and fixing 
 his aim full upon the king, discharged an arrow, 
 which pierced deep into his left shoulder. Richard 
 plucked at the weapon, but its barbed point was so 
 deeply imbedded, that it resisted this painful en- 
 deavor. Overcome with the irritating effects of his 
 useless attempts, and nearly fainting with pain, the 
 king rode back to his camp. 
 
 In the meantime the Brabanters carried the fortress 
 by storm and massacred every man, with the excep- 
 tion of Bertrand, who was taken captive, to be 
 dealt with by the royal justice. On the arrival of 
 Richard within his tent, the surgeons hastened to the 
 royal sufferer and made repeated attempts to extract 
 the arrow. In the course of their rude efforts the 
 weapon broke, leaving its barbed head to rankle in 
 the flesh. So unskilful was the treatment of the bar- 
 barous surgery of the day, that the wound soon began 
 to exhibit symptoms of gangrene. The mighty 
 Richard now gave up all hope, and believing his life 
 was fast drawing to a close, he sent for the prisoner 
 Bertrand de Gurdun. As the youth came into his 
 presence, nothing daunted by the fierce look of Rich- 
 ard, whose fiery eye yet glared through the approach- 
 ing mist of death, the king exclaimed, " Wretch, 
 
Death. 273 
 
 what have I ever done to thee that thou shouldst 
 seek my life?" The prisoner boldly answered, 
 "My father and my two brothers thou hast slain 
 with thine own hand, and wouldst have hung myself. 
 Now I am happy that thou diest, for I shall have rid 
 the world of an oppressor. Do thy worst, for I care 
 not for the torture nor the agonies of death." The 
 generous monarch pardoned the spirited youth. " I 
 forgive thee, boy," cried Richard, and then turning 
 to the guards said : " Unloose him and count him out 
 a hundred shillings." The fierce captain of the mer- 
 cenaries no sooner had the youthful prisoner in his 
 power, than with savage cruelty he first flayed and 
 then hung him. 
 
 The stern warrior's last act was one of forgiveness 
 and mercy, which softened the close of his fierce 
 career as the evening vapor tempers the hot rays of 
 the setting summer's sun. Richard died, in great 
 suffering, on the 6th day of April, in the year 1199, 
 at the early age of forty-two. His body was laid by 
 the side of that of his father, the great Henry, in the 
 Abbey of Fontevraud, where the mighty Richard 
 reposed at last in death. 
 
Published by Evans Sf Dickerson. 
 
 INDESTRUCTIBLE 
 
 IP [L 1 A © P tr2 H ©©©^©, 
 
 FEINTED ON LINEN, BEAUTIFULLY COLORED, NAMELY: 
 
 DEATH AND BURIAL OF COCK feOBIN. 
 OLD MOTHER HUBBARD. 
 LITTLE BO PEEP. 
 CAT AND THE MOUSE. 
 
 These are capital boobs for children, as they can not be torn, and can 
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 have apparently been hopelessly damaged by infantile combativeness. 
 
 " I keep my little boy quiet by the hour in reciting to him from yourbook3 the mournful 
 history of poor 'Cock Robin,' and the remarkable feats of that noted dog of 'Old Mother 
 Hubbard.' — Communication to the publisher from 1 ' the head of a family.'" 
 
 HARRY'S LADDER TO LEARNING; 
 
 In Progressive Steps. The Picture Book — The Horn Book — Nursery 
 Songs — Nursery Tales — Simple Stories — Country Walks. Illus- 
 trated by 230 Engravings. Neatly bound in cloth, with Plates 
 colored. $1.75. 
 
 A good book for a boy, in -which learning is stripped of its irksomeness, and is made an 
 easy and a delightful task. It is by making the path to knowledge inviting that the young 
 will be allured from thoughtless and mischievous play. 
 
 PARLOR MAGIC. 
 
 Comprising a Series of Experiments, Chemical and Optical ; Sleights 
 and Subtleties, Entertainments, etc.. etc., for the Instruction and 
 Amusement of Youth. Numerous Engravings on Wood. Third 
 edition. $1.50. 
 
Books for Young People, 
 
 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD STORIES. 
 
 The celebrated Stories of the Brothers Grimm. Complete edition 
 Embellished with 200 small and 36 full-page Illustrations. 2 vols, 
 crown 8vo, cloth, extra gilt. $3. 
 
 The same, 3 vols., with the large plates colored. Cloth, gilt extra. 
 $4 50. 
 
 * # * Each volume complete in itself, and can be sold separately. 
 
 ADVENTURES OE A BEAR, AND A GREAT SEAR, TOO ; 
 
 "By Alfred Elwes. Nine Illustrations by Harrison Weir, colored 
 Plates. Small 4to, cloth. $1.50. 
 
 Bound uniform with the "Adventures of a Dog,'' and together with that popular book, 
 has enjoyed an immense sale. 
 
 THE BOY'S OWN BOOK; 
 
 A complete Encyclopaedia of all the Diversions, Athletic, Scientific, 
 and Recreative, of Boyhood and Youth. With several hundred 
 Wood Cuts. New edition, greatly enlarged and improved, hand- 
 somely bound. $2.50. 
 
 This book will be read with the deepest interest as long as boys love sport and parents 
 desire to afford them innocent amusement 
 
 ROUND GAMES FOR ALL PARTIES ; 
 
 A Collection of the greatest variety of Family Amusements, for Fire- 
 side or Pic Nic ; for the use of Old and Youug, and adapted to the 
 understandings of Children from the ages of seven to seventy. 
 Square 12mo, cloth. $1.50. 
 
 No family in which children reside, or where they are to be entertained, should be with- 
 out this complete book of innocent and amusing games. 
 
 ACTING CHARADES; 
 
 Or Deeds not Words. A Christmas Game, to make a long evening 
 short. By the Brothers Mayhew. Illustrated by H. G. Hiue. 
 Small 4to, cloth, gilt edges. $1.50. 
 
"A CAPITAL BOOK FOR THE HOME-CIRCLE." 
 
 HARRY'S VACATION 
 
 PHILOSOPHY AT HOME. 
 
 BY W . C. RICHARDS, A.M. 
 
 Illustrated with. Six Elegant Engravings, from Designs by Thwaites. 
 
 ONE YOLUJLE, 16M0, CLOTH, EXTRA. 
 
 This book is designed to instruct as well as to delight the young reader. It 
 seeks to teach, the most beautiful and important truths and principles of natural 
 science in the fascinating guise of story. The incidents which occur in the 
 experience of a happy family group, during the Christmas holidays of the young 
 people, are all made to minister to their knowledge of philosophy. The acci- 
 dental fall of a dish from the fingers of a careless servant forms the text of a dis- 
 cussion on gravitation. The frost-work upon the window-panes, a soap-bubble 
 rolling upon the carpet, a school-boy's sport with "a sucker" — these and a hun- 
 dred other apparent trifles are pegs upon which are hung the most valuable les- 
 sons of practical wisdom. Almost all the branches of physical science are illustrated 
 in the development of the story ; and the intelligent child may gather more dis- 
 tinct and accurate ideas about them, almost unconsciously, while following the 
 sports and pastimes of Harry and his companions, than he could possiby derive 
 from text-books on science in a quarter's hard study. The author's familiarity 
 with the sciences has enabled him to interweave their leading facts into tha 
 thread of the story, with due regard to philosophical accuracy, while it is 
 never burdened with the technicalities of science, or made dull by dry and 
 tedious explanations. The days of " Harry's Vacation" flew not more rapidly by 
 to the delighted inmates of Beechwood, than will the hours to those young peo- 
 ple whose good fortune it may be to read the charming story of their experiences 
 and pastimes. Probably no book for the young has ever been published in 
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 which deserves to obtain a larger degree of popularity than this beautiful vol- 
 ume. Nor will the young alone find interest in its pages, but " children of a 
 larger growth" may derive both knowledge and gratification in its pleasant 
 " Philosophy at Home." 
 
ROM A N TIC BIOGRAPHIES 
 
 HEEOES OF HISTOEY. 
 
 EEV. F. L. HAWXES, B.D., LL.D. 
 
 IN UNIFORM 16MO VOLUMES, KEATLY PRINTED AND ILLUSTRATED WITH 
 SPIRITED ENGRATTNGS. 
 
 The following Biographies are nearly ready : 
 
 I. RICHARD THE LION-HEARTED 
 II. SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 
 
 III. OLIVER CROMV.'ELL. 
 
 IV. SIR WILLIAM WALLACE AND ROBERT BRUCE. 
 V. EDWARD THE BLACK PRINCE. 
 
 The Publishers in announcing this series of Biographies of men whose 
 heroic deeds have been the fruitful theme of Song and Romance, from the 
 days in which they lived unto the present time, and whose names will ever 
 stand prominent on the pages of history, feel assured that the name of the 
 Rev. Dr. Hawkes, who will either write or edit the whole of the series, is a 
 sufficient pledge that each Biography, although written in a style to attract 
 and interest the young, will, with a strict regard to historical truth, be the 
 means of impressing on the mind of the reader the dry details of history, and 
 thus prove both instructive and fascinating. 
 
 EVANS & DICKERSON, Publishers. 
 
 GDI Broadway, New-York.