“Monseigneur Hugues de Trichatel, the lord of Conflans, who carried my banner. I and my knights spurred to deliver Monseigneur Raoul de Wanou, who was thrown to the ground. As I was making my way back, the Turks struck at me with their lances; my horse fell on his knees under the blows, and I went over his head. I recovered myself as I might, shield on neck and sword in hand; and Monseigneur Erard de Siverey (whom God absolve!), who was of my people, came to my aid, and said that we had better retreat to a ruined house, and there wait for the king who was approaching.”
One notes the high-born courtesy with which the Sire de Joinville speaks of the gentlemen who had the honour of serving him. The fight goes on.
“Monseigneur Erard de Siverey was struck by a sword-blow in his face, so that his nose hung down over his lips. And then I was minded of Monseigneur Saint Jacques, whom I thus invoked: ‘Beau Sire Saint Jacques help and succour me in this need.’
“When I had made my prayer, Monseigneur Erard de Siverey said to me: ‘Sire, if you think that neither I nor my heirs would suffer reproof, I would go for aid to the Count of Anjou, whom I see over there in the fields.’ And I said to him: ‘Messire Erard, I think you would do yourself great honour, if you now went for aid to save our lives; for your own is in jeopardy.’ And indeed I spoke truly, for he died of that wound. He asked the advice of all our knights who were there, and all approved as I had approved. And when he heard that, he requested me to let him have his horse, which I was holding by the bridle with the rest. And so I did.”
The knightliness of this scene is perfect, with its liege fealty and its carefulness as to the point of honour, its carefulness also that the vassal knight shall fail in no duty to his lord whereby the descent of his fief may be jeopardized. Monseigneur Erard (whom God absolve, we say with Joinville!) is very careful to have his lord’s assent and the approval of his fellows, before he will leave his lord in peril, and undergo still greater risk to bring him succour.
Well, the Count of Anjou brought such aid as created a diversion, and the Saracens turned to the new foe. But now the king arrives on the scene:
“There where I was on foot with my knights, wounded as already said, comes the king with his whole array, and a great sound of trumpets and drums. And he halted on the road on the dyke. Never saw I one so bravely armed: for he showed above all his people from his shoulders up, a gilded casque upon his head and a German sword in his hand.”
Then the king’s good knights charge into the battle, and fine feats of arms are done. The fighting is fierce and general. At length the king is counselled to bear back along the river, keeping close to it on his right hand, so as to reunite with the Duke of Burgundy who had been left to guard the camp. The knights are recalled from the melée, and with a great noise of trumpets and drums, and Saracen horns, the army is set in motion.
“And now up comes the constable, Messire Imbert de Beaujeu, and tells the king that the Count of Artois, his brother, was defending himself in a house in Mansourah, and needed aid. And the king said to him: ‘Constable go before and I will follow you.’ And I said to the constable that I would be his knight, at which he thanked me greatly.”
Again one feels the feudal chivalry. Now the affair becomes rather distraught. They set out to succour the Count of Artois, but are checked, and it is rumoured that the king is taken; and in fact six Saracens had rushed upon him and seized his horse by the bridle; but he had freed himself with such great strokes that all his people took courage. Yet the host is driven back upon the river, and is in desperate straits. Joinville and his knights defend a bridge over a tributary, which helps to check the Saracen advance, and affords an uncertain means of safety to the French. But there is no cessation of the Saracen attack with bows and spears. The knights seemed full of arrows. Joinville saved his life with an arrow-proof Saracen vest, “so that I was wounded by their arrows only in five places”! One of Joinville’s own stout burgesses, bearing his lord’s banner on a lance, helped in the charges upon the enemy. In the melée up speaks the good Count of Soissons, whose cousin Joinville had married. “He joked with me and said: ‘Seneschal, let us whoop after this canaille; for by God’s coif (his favourite oath) we shall be talking, you and I, about this day in the chambers of the ladies.’”