DELAY AND DANGER.
IT was January 1250, and King Louis, at the head of the Crusaders, was still on the banks of the Achmoun. But it was not from reluctance to prosecute their enterprise that the armed pilgrims submitted to delay. The aspect of the country through which they had passed on their way from Damietta had not been such as to diminish their ambition to be conquerors. It cannot be doubted that the fertility of the land of the Pharaohs must have made them more and more eager to become its masters.
In truth, there cannot be a more delightful sight than Egypt at either of two seasons of the year. Ascend some mountain in the month of July or August, when the Nile has risen, and you behold a vast sea, in which appear numerous towns and villages, with causeways leading from place to place, the whole interspersed with groves and fruit-trees, of which the tops are only visible, and bounded by woods and mountains. But it is the peculiarity of the Nile, unlike other rivers, which, in overflowing lands, wash away and exhaust their vivific moisture, that its waters serve to fatten and enrich the soil. Accordingly, ascend the same mountain in January or February, when the waters have subsided and the husbandman has done his work, and the country is like one beautiful meadow, dotted with flocks and herds, covered with crops of corn, enamelled with flowers, and perfumed with the blossoms of oranges and lemons.
Nor, considering the marvellous history of Egypt, could the imaginations of the Crusaders be otherwise than fascinated by the prospect of looking with their own eyes on its cities, its pyramids, its obelisks, its mummy pits, and all the relics of its ancient and mysterious civilisation. Persians, Macedonians, Romans, and Saracens, had come hither before them as conquerors. But it may be doubted whether the warriors of Cambyses, or Alexander, or the Cæsars, or Omar, felt a more thorough confidence in their own prowess and destiny, than did the warriors who marched from Damietta under the banner of St. Denis.
It was certainly mortifying to men in so elate a mood to have their progress arrested by a canal; and, in fact, the French warriors seem to have been startled out of their senses by its steep banks and deep bed. At all events, they, instead of looking for a ford, which was certainly the most natural way of getting over their difficulty, commenced the construction of a causeway.
Now, Fakreddin no sooner observed that the Crusaders were at work, than he perceived his advantage, and vowed that the causeway should never be completed; and, while workmen, protected by machines of war and wooden castles, were occupied with its construction, the Saracens spared no pains to retard the operations. As fast as the Crusaders heaped up the sand and stones, the Saracens dug away the earth in front, thus removing the opposite bank to a greater distance; and, moreover, they incessantly showered arrows and javelins at the workmen. Every day brought fresh annoyances; and every day the Saracens became more audacious in their attacks. Every night brought fresh surprises; and, in the conflicts which took place, the Crusaders had not always the best of the struggle.
'A large body of Turks,' says Joinville, 'made an attack on the Count of Poictiers and me. But be assured they were very well received. It was well for them that they found their way back as they came; but they left behind them great numbers of slain.'
'One night the Turks brought an engine, called by them la perriere, a terrible engine to do mischief, and placed it opposite the chas-chateils, which Sir Walter Curel and I were guarding. From this engine they flung such quantities of Greek fire, that it was the most horrible sight I ever witnessed. When my companion, the good Sir Walter, saw this shower of fire, he cried out, "Gentlemen, we are all lost without remedy; for should they set fire to our chas-chateils we must be burnt, and if we quit our post we are for ever dishonoured; from which, therefore, I conclude that no one can possibly save us from this peril but God, our benignant creator. I therefore advise all of you, whenever they throw any of this Greek fire, to cast yourselves on your hands and knees and cry for mercy to our Lord, in whom alone resides all power."
'As soon, therefore, as the Turks threw their fires, we flung ourselves on our hands and knees as the wise man had advised; and, this time, they fell between our two cats, into a hole in front, which our people had made to extinguish them; and they were instantly put out by a man appointed for that purpose.
'Each time that our good king, St. Louis, heard them make these discharges of fire, he cast himself on the ground, and with extended arms, and eyes turned to the heavens, cried with a loud voice to our Lord, and shedding heavy tears, said—"Good Lord God, preserve thou me, and all thy people:" and, believe me, his sincere prayers were of great service to us. Every time the fire fell near us he sent one of his knights to know how we were, and if the fire had hurt us. One of the discharges from the Turks fell beside a chas-chateil, guarded by the men of the Lord of Courtenay, struck the bank of the river in front and ran on the ground toward them, burning with flames. One of the knights of his guard instantly came to me, crying out, "Help us, my lord, or we are burnt; for there is a long train of Greek fire, which the Saracens have discharged, that is running straight for our castle."
'We immediately hastened thither, and good need was there, for as the knight had said, so it was. We extinguished the fire with much labour and difficulty; for the Saracens, in the meantime, kept up so brisk a shooting from the opposite bank, that we were covered with arrows and bolts.'
All this time Fakreddin was diligent in procuring what intelligence he could as to the position and plans of the Crusaders. This, however, was not an easy business. Indeed, no intelligence on such subjects could be obtained, save from captives, and the emir, therefore, offered a high reward for every Frank brought to his tent. But the Crusaders, taught by experience, had become marvellously vigilant, and showed a decided aversion to be captured. A Saracen, however, who was an expert swimmer, vowed not to be baffled, and performed an exploit, which Arabian chroniclers, while omitting much more important events, have carefully recorded.
It seems that this Saracen, having determined to carry a Christian as captive to Fakreddin's tent, and claim the reward, fell upon a somewhat whimsical plan for accomplishing his object. Having scooped out a melon, and thrust his head into the cavity, he threw himself into the canal, and swam down the stream in such a way that the melon appeared to float in the water. The trick succeeded in attracting the attention of the Crusaders, and as the melon was passing that part of the bank where the Lord of Joinville was encamped, there was much excitement among his men.
'Let us catch the melon,' cried one.
'Who is bold enough to make the attempt?' asked another.
'On my faith,' said a squire, laughing, 'I see no danger to daunt the most timid.'
Scarcely, indeed, had he stretched forward his hand, when he found himself seized by the Saracen, and dragged forcibly away in the direction of the camp on the opposite bank.—p. 118.
As he spoke, the squire, doffing his upper garments, rushed into the water, and, striking out, grasped at the melon. But the adventure did not end so pleasantly as he had anticipated. Scarcely, indeed, had he stretched forward his hand, when he found himself seized by the Saracen, and dragged forcibly away in the direction of the camp on the opposite bank.
At first the Crusaders could hardly believe their eyes. But there was no mistake about it. Their comrade was gone, and a prisoner in the hands of the Saracens; and, as they considered what might be his fate, they raised such shouts of alarm, that their lord was attracted to the spot.
'In St. Denis' name,' said Joinville, after hearing sufficient to be aware of what had occurred, 'tell me, I pray you, who among my fellows has met with this mishap?'
'In truth, my lord,' replied one of the knights, 'it is the English squire who took service with you at Damietta.'
'May the God of his fathers protect him!' exclaimed Joinville, somewhat sadly; 'as matters are, we can do nothing in his behalf.'
And who was the squire, who had entered the service of Joinville at Damietta, and afterwards been taken prisoner by the Saracens?
It was one of the brothers-in-arms. It was Guy Muschamp.