Followed by a few of his faithful Mamelukes, he endeavoured to rally his scattered forces, and at length succeeded in reviving their courage. No sooner had he the means of support, than he returned to the fight with characteristic energy, rushing down upon the Christians, whom he surprised in all the disorder of victory. The Mussulman cavalry now charged in their turn, and dispersed the cavalry of the Franks. The different bodies of the Christian army became soon separated from one another, and in vain endeavoured to rally in their flight. The grand master of the Templars then advanced with the reserve, to support the troops that fled, but he met the Mussulman cavalry in full career, that crushed everything in their passage. The reserve was broken at the first shock; they returned several times to the charge, but without being able to stand against the impetuosity of the Saracen horsemen. On all sides, victory was escaping from the hands of the Crusaders, terror pervaded the whole Christian army, and disorder and confusion reigned everywhere. Whilst the left wing was put to flight, and the body of reserve was making vain efforts to check the Mussulmans, the right wing and the centre were attacked not only by the princes of Aleppo, Mossoul, and Sandjar, with Teki-eddin Omar, but by the garrison of Ptolemaïs, which issued from the city in order of battle.

The Saracens made a most horrible slaughter; every part of the Christian army was broken and put to flight, and utter destruction threatened them if their camp should fall into the hands of the enemy. The conquerors proceeded at once to the attack of the intrenchments, but the height of the walls, the depth of the ditches, and the bravery of Geoffrey de Lusignan and Jacques d’Avesnes,[329] stopped the Mussulman cavalry, and preserved the last asylum of the Christian army.

During the contest, Saladin appears to have been everywhere at once: after having re-established the battle in his right wing, he returned to the centre, and thence passed to the left. Ten times he crossed the lines of the Christians, and himself directed every charge of his cavalry. The battle lasted during the whole day; in the evening, still many combats were kept up around the camp of the Christians, and night alone brought repose to the two armies. As the Mussulmans and Christians had by turns been victors, the loss was equal on both sides. The Crusaders had to deplore the death of several of their leaders; the grand master of the Templars, covered with wounds, was made prisoner on the field of battle, and led to the camp of the infidels. The emirs reproached him with having taken up arms against Saladin, who had generously broken his chains after the battle of Tiberias. He replied with haughty firmness, and received the palm of martyrdom. André de Brienne was cast from his horse whilst endeavouring to rally the Crusaders. He in vain implored assistance of his companions, whom fear rendered deaf to pity, and Erard de Brienne, whilst precipitating his flight, trampled under his horse’s feet his brother, expiring on the field of battle.

The Latin historians attribute the defeat of the Crusaders to an unexpected accident,[330] which threw the combatants into disorder.[331] An Arabian horse, which had been taken from the enemy, escaping in the heat of the battle, was pursued by some soldiers, and it was believed they were flying before the Saracens. All at once a rumour prevailed that the Christian army was conquered and dispersed, and the news redoubled the tumult, and gave birth to general terror. Whole battalions, seized with a panic, abandoned their triumphant banners, and sought safety in a precipitate flight.

We only report this singular circumstance to show the spirit of the contemporary chronicles. The fate of the battle might be much better explained by saying that the Christian soldiers abandoned the fight for the sake of plunder; and that the greater part of the leaders, less skilful than brave, neither knew how to prevent or repair the reverses to which an undisciplined army must be exposed.

In the plain of Ptolemaïs, trod by two hundred thousand warriors, on the morrow was only to be seen, to employ an Oriental image, birds of prey and wolves attracted by the scent of carnage and death. The Christians did not dare to leave their intrenchments, and victory itself could not reassure Saladin, who had seen his whole army put to flight. The most frightful disorder prevailed in the camp of the Saracens; the slaves had pillaged it at the commencement of the battle, and had fled, carrying away the booty that escaped the hands of the Crusaders. Both the emirs and soldiers had lost their baggage; some pursued the fugitive slaves, whilst others addressed their complaints to Saladin. Amidst such confusion and tumult, it was impossible for the sultan to follow up the advantage he had gained, and as winter was approaching, and the Mussulmans were short of provisions, he abandoned the plain, and retired to the mountain Karouba.

The Christians, who now remained masters of the plain, extended their lines over the whole chain of hills that surrounded the city of Ptolemaïs; the marquis of Montferrat, with his troops, the Venetians, the Pisans, and the Crusaders commanded by the archbishop of Ravenna and the bishop of Pisa, encamped towards the north, and occupied ground from the sea to the road to Damascus. Near the camp of Conrad, the Hospitallers pitched their tents, in a valley which had belonged to them before the taking of Ptolemaïs by the Saracens. The Genoese occupied the hill which contemporary historians call Mount Musard. The French and English, who were in front of the Cursed Tower, were placed in the centre, under the orders of the counts of Dreux, Blois, and Clermont, and the archbishops of Besançon and Canterbury. Close to the camp of the French floated the banners of the Flemings, commanded by the bishop of Cambrai, and Raymond II., viscount de Turenne.

Guy de Lusignan encamped with his soldiers and knights upon the hill of Turon, which part of the camp served as citadel and head-quarters to the whole army. The king of Jerusalem had with him the queen Sibylla, his two brothers Geoffrey and Aimar, Humphrey de Theron, the husband of the second daughter of Amaury, the patriarch Heraclius, and the clergy of the holy city. The viscount de Chatellerault, who was of the same country as Guy de Lusignan, ranged himself under the standard of the king of Jerusalem. The knights of the Temple, and the troop of Jacques d’Avesnes, fixed their quarters between the hill of Turon and the Belus, and guarded the road that led from Ptolemaïs to Jerusalem. On the south of the Belus stood the tents of the Germans, the Danes, and the Frisons: these northern warriors, commanded by the landgrave of Thuringia and the duke of Gueldres, were placed along the shore of the Road of Ptolemaïs, and protected the disembarkation of the Christians who arrived from Europe by sea.

Such was the disposition of the Christian army before Ptolemaïs, and this order was preserved during the whole siege. The Christians dug ditches on the declivities of the hills whose heights they occupied; they raised high walls round their quarters, and their camps were so inclosed, says an Arabian historian, that the birds could scarcely find entrance. All the torrents which fell from the neighbouring mountains overflowed their banks, and covered the plain with their waters; and the Crusaders, having nothing to fear from surprise by the army of Saladin, prosecuted the siege without intermission. Their machines battered the walls night and day, and with each morning their assaults were renewed. The garrison, which opposed them with obstinate bravery, could not much longer defend itself without the aid of the Mussulman army. Every day pigeons bearing letters under their wings, and divers, who threw themselves into the sea, were sent to warn Saladin of the imminent dangers of Ptolemaïs.

At the approach of spring, several Mussulman princes of Mesopotamia and Syria came to range themselves and their troops under the standards of the sultan. Then Saladin quitted the mountain of Karouba, and his army descending towards the plain of Ptolemaïs, defiled in sight of the Christians, with colours spread and drums and trumpets sounding. The Crusaders had soon fresh contests to maintain. The ditches they had dug, to employ the expression of a Mussulman historian, became their own sepulchres, and were often filled with their dead bodies. The hopes they had fondly entertained of getting possession of the city, vanished at the sight of such formidable enemies. They had constructed during the winter three rolling towers, similar to those which Godfrey of Bouillon had erected at the taking of Jerusalem. These three towers arose above the walls of Ptolemaïs, and threatened the city with destruction. Whilst the Crusaders were engaged in repelling the attacks of Saladin, inflamed arrows and pots filled with burning naphtha were hurled on their machines, that were left unprotected at the foot of the ramparts. All at once the Christians saw flames arise in the air, and their wooden towers, seized upon by an unextinguishable fire, were consumed and reduced to ashes before their eyes, as if they had been struck by the lightning of heaven. So great was the terror spread among the Crusaders by this conflagration, that the landgrave of Thuringia quitted the siege and returned to Europe, believing that God no longer protected the cause of the Christians.