Such was the state of the Holy Land at the time of Prince Edward’s arrival. His name, however, was a host; the disunion among the Christians was healed by his coming;[874] every exertion was made to render his efforts effectual; and he soon found himself at the head of a small but veteran force, amounting to seven thousand men. With this he advanced upon Nazareth, and after a severe conflict with the Moslems, he made himself master of that city, in which all the Saracens that remained were slaughtered without mercy. The climate put a stop to his successes. It was now the middle of summer, and the excessive heat brought on a fever, from which Edward was recovering, when a strange messenger desired to render some despatches to the prince’s own hand. He was admitted; and as the young leader lay in his bed, without any attendants, he delivered the letters, and for a moment spoke to him of the affairs of Jaffa. The instant after, he drew a dagger from his belt, and before Edward was aware, had stabbed him in the chest. The prince was enfeebled, but was still sufficiently vigorous to wrench the weapon from the assassin, and to put him to death with his own hand. His attendants, alarmed by the struggle, rushed into the apartment, and found Edward bleeding from the wound inflicted by a poisoned knife. Skilful means[875] were instantly used to preserve his life;[876] and an antidote, sent by the Grand Master of the Temple, is said to have obviated the effects of the poison. Edward’s natural vigour, with care, soon restored him to health; and the Sultaun of Egypt, daunted by the courage and ability of the English prince, and engaged in ruinous wars in other directions, offered peace on advantageous conditions, which were accepted. Edward and his followers returned to Europe, and the Christians of Palestine were left to take advantage of a ten years’ truce.
Such was the end of the last expedition. In 1274, Gregory X., who had himself witnessed the sorrows of Palestine, attempted to promote a new crusade, and held a council for that purpose at Lyons, where many great and noble personages assumed the Cross. The death of the Pope followed shortly afterward, and the project was abandoned, on the loss of him who had given it birth. In Palestine, all now tended to the utter expulsion of the Christians. The Latins themselves first madly broke the truce, by plundering some Egyptian merchants near Margat. Keladun, then Sultaun of Cairo, hastened to revenge the injury, and Margat was taken from the Christians, after a gallant defence.[877] Tripoli, which had hitherto escaped by various concessions to the Moslems, fell shortly after Margat; and in the third year from that period, two hundred thousand Mahommedans were under the walls of Acre, the last possession of the Christians. The Grand Master of St. John had collected together a small body of Italian mercenaries, but no serviceable support could be won from the kings of Europe.
The Grand Master[878] of the Temple, however, with the rest of the military Orders, and about twelve thousand men, being joined by the King of Cyprus, resolved to undergo a siege. The greater part of the useless inhabitants were sent away by sea, and the garrison prepared to defend themselves to the last. This was the final blaze of chivalric valour that shone on the Holy Land. The numbers of the Moslems were overpowering, and after a breach had been made in the walls by the fall of what was called the Cursed Tower, a general assault took place. The King of Cyprus made a dastardly flight, but the Templars and the Teutonic knights died where they stood, and the Hospitallers only left the city to attack the rear of the besieging army. Here they met with infinite odds against them, and fell man by man, till the news came that the Grand Master of the Temple was killed and that the city was taken. The Hospitallers then, reduced to seven in number, reached a ship, and quitted the shores of Palestine. About an equal number of Templars fled to the interior, and thence fought their way through the land, till they gained the means of reaching Cyprus. The inhabitants of the city who had not before departed fled to the sea;[879] but the elements themselves seemed to war against them, and ere they could escape, the Saracen sword died the sands with their blood. The Moslems then set fire to the devoted town, and the last vestige of the Christian power in Syria was swept from the face of the earth.
CHAPTER XV.
Fate of the Orders of the Temple and St. John—The Templars abandon all Hopes of recovering Jerusalem—Mingle in European Politics—Offend Philip the Fair—Are persecuted—Charges against them—The Order destroyed—The Knights of St. John pursue the Purpose of defending Christendom—Settle in Rhodes—Siege of Rhodes—Gallant Defence—The Island taken—The Knights remove to Malta—Siege of Malta—La Valette—Defence of St. Elmo—Gallantry of the Garrison—The Whole Turkish Army attempt to storm the Castle—The Attack repelled—Arrival of Succour—The Siege raised—The Progress of Chivalry independent of the Crusades—Chivalrous Exploits—Beneficial Tendency of Chivalry—Corruption of the Age not attributable to Chivalry—Decline of the Institution—In Germany, England, France—Its Extinction.
From the period of the fall of Acre crusades were only spoken of; but the spirit of Chivalry was perhaps not the less active, though it had taken another course: nor did it lose in purity by being directed, moderated, and deprived of the ferocity which always follows fanaticism. The Holy Land had become a place of vice and debauchery, as well as a theatre for the display of great deeds and noble resolution; and we find, that however orderly and regular any army was on its departure from Europe, it soon acquired all the habits of immorality and improvidence which seemed some inherent quality of that unhappy climate. This was peculiarly apparent in the two Orders of the Hospital and the Temple, the rules of which were particularly calculated to guard against luxury of every kind; yet, the one, till its extinction and both, during their sojourn in Palestine, were the receptacle of more depravity and crimes than perhaps any other body of men could produce. After the capture of Acre the knights of these two Orders retreated to Cyprus; and when some ineffectual efforts had been made to excite a new crusade for the recovery of Palestine, the Templars retired from that country, and, spreading themselves throughout their vast possessions in Europe, seem really to have abandoned all thought of fighting any more for the sepulchre. With the rest of Europe they spoke of fresh expeditions, it is true; but in the mean while they gave themselves up to the luxury, pride, and ambition which, if it was not the real cause of their downfall, at least furnished the excuse. Philip the Fair of France, on his accession to the throne, showed great favour to the Templars,[880] and held out hopes that he would attempt to establish the Order once more in the land which had given it birth. But the Templars were now deeply occupied in the politics of Europe itself: their haughty Grand Master was almost equal to a king in power, and would fain have made kings his slaves. In the disputes between Philip and Boniface VIII., the Templars took the part of the Pope, and treated the monarch, in his own realm, with insolent contempt; but they knew not the character of him whose wrath they roused. Philip was at once vindictive and avaricious, and the destruction of the Templars offered the gratification of both passions: he was also calm, bold, cunning, and remorseless; and from the vengeance of such a man it was difficult to escape. The vices of the Templars were notorious,[881] and on these it was easy to graft crimes of a deeper die. Reports, rumours, accusations, circulated rapidly through Europe; and Philip, resolved upon crushing the unhappy Order, took care that on the very first vacancy his creature, Bertrand de Got, Archbishop of Bourdeaux,[882] should be elevated to the papal throne. Before he suffered the ambitious prelate to be elected, he bound him to grant five conditions, four of which were explained to him previously, but the fifth was to be kept in secrecy till after his elevation. Bertrand pledged himself to all these terms; and as soon as he had received the triple crown, was informed that the last dreadful condition was the destruction of the Order of the Temple. He hesitated, but was forced to consent; and after various stratagems to inveigle all the principal Templars into France, Philip caused them suddenly to be arrested throughout his dominions,[883] and had them arraigned of idolatry, immorality, extortion, and treason, together with crimes whose very name must not soil this page. Mixed with a multitude of charges, both false and absurd, were various others too notorious to be confuted by the body, and many which could be proved against individuals. Several members of the Order confessed some of the crimes laid to their charge, and many more were afterward induced to do so by torture; but at a subsequent period of the trial, when the whole of the papal authority was used to give the proceeding the character of a regular legal inquisition, a number of individuals confessed, on the promise of pardon, different offences, sufficient to justify rigorous punishment against themselves, and to implicate deeply the institution to which they belonged. James de Mollay, however, the Grand Master, firmly denied every charge, and defended himself and his brethren with a calm and dignified resolution that nothing could shake.
It would be useless as well as painful to dwell upon all the particulars of their trial, where space is not allowed to investigate minutely the facts: it is sufficient to say, that the great body of the Templars in France were sentenced to be imprisoned for life, and a multitude were burned at the stake, where they showed that heroic firmness which they had ever evinced in the field of battle. Their large possessions were of course confiscated. In Spain, their aid against the Moors was too necessary to permit of similar rigour, and they were generally acquitted in that country. In England, the same persecutions were carried on, but with somewhat of a milder course: and the last blow was put to the whole by a council held at Vienne, which formally dissolved the Order, and transferred its estates to the Hospitallers. James de Mollay and the Grand Prior of France were the last victims, and were publicly burned in Paris for crimes that beyond doubt they did not commit. To suppose that the Templars were guilty of the specific offences attributed to them would be to suppose them a congregation of madmen; but to believe they were a religious or a virtuous Order would be to charge all Europe with a general and purposeless conspiracy.
In the mean while, the Knights Hospitallers confined themselves to the objects for which they were originally instituted; and, that they might always be prepared to fight against the enemies of Christendom, they obtained a cession of the island of Rhodes, from which they expelled the Turks. Here they continued for many years, a stumblingblock in the way of Moslem conquest; but at length, the chancellor of the Order, named d’Amaral,[884] disappointed of the dignity of Grand Master, in revenge, it is said, invited the Turks to the siege, and gave them the plan of the island with its fortifications. Soliman II. instantly led an army against it; but the gallant knights resisted with a determined courage, that drove the imperious sultaun almost to madness. He commanded his celebrated general, Mustapha, to be slain with arrows,[885] attributing to him the misfortune of the siege; and at length had begun to withdraw his forces, when a more favourable point of attack was discovered, and the knights were ultimately obliged to capitulate. The city of Rhodes was by this time reduced to a mere heap of stones, and at one period of the siege, the Grand Master himself remained thirty-four days in the trenches, without ever sitting down to food, or taking repose, but such as he could gain upon an uncovered mattress at the foot of the wall. So noble a defence well merited an honourable fate; and even after their surrender, the knights were the objects of admiration and praise to all Europe, though Europe had suffered them to fall without aid. The sultaun, before he allowed the Order to transfer itself to Candia, which had been stipulated by the treaty, requested to see the Grand Master: and to console him for his loss, he said, “The conquest and the fall of empires are but the sports of fortune.” He then strove to win the gallant knight who had so well defended his post to the Ottoman service, holding out to him the most magnificent offers, and showing what little cause he had to remain attached to the Christians,[886] who had abandoned him; but Villiers replied, that he thanked him for his generous proposals, yet that he should be unworthy of such a prince’s good opinion if he could accept them.