The History of the Crusades (vol. 1 of 3)

by J. Fr. Michaud

Saladin followed up his attacks so incessantly, that he left his enemy no repose. Every time that an assault was attempted on the city, the noise of drums and trumpets resounded from the ramparts to warn the Mussulman troops, who then flew to arms and attacked the camp of the Christians.

The Road of Ptolemaïs was often covered with vessels from Europe, and Mussulman vessels from the ports of Egypt and Syria. The latter brought supplies to the city, and the former to the Christian army. At a distance might be seen masts surmounted with the standards of the cross, and others bearing the banners of Mahomet, which seemed to mingle and float together. Several times the Franks and Saracens were spectators of the conflicts between their fleets laden with arms and provisions, that took place near the shore. At the sight of a naval combat the warriors of the cross and of Mahomet struck upon their shields, and announced by their cries their hopes and their fears. Sometimes even the two armies were so excited as to attack each other on the plain to assure the victory, or avenge the defeat of those who had fought upon the waves.

In the battles that took place sometimes on the banks of the Belus, and sometimes under the walls or at the foot of the hills, the Saracens often prepared ambushes, and did not disdain to have recourse to all the stratagems of war. The Christians, on the contrary, placed no confidence in anything but their valour and their own good swords. A car, upon which was raised a tower, surmounted by a cross and a white flag, served them as a rallying-point, and was their guiding star in battle. When the enemy gave way, the thirst for booty soon made every man quit the ranks; their chiefs, almost always without authority in the tumult of battle, became no more than simple soldiers in the mêlée, and had nothing to oppose to the enemy but their sword and lance. Saladin, more respected by his troops, commanded a disciplined army, and often profited by the disorder and confusion of the Christians to combat them with advantage and snatch a victory. Every battle began at sunrise, and the Christians were generally conquerors up to the middle of the day; but when even they had invaded and partly plundered the camp of the Mussulmans, and at evening returned home loaded with booty, they were almost sure to find their own camp had been broken into by the troops of Saladin or the garrison.

After the sultan’s descent from the mountain of Karouba, an Egyptian fleet entered the port of Ptolemaïs. At the same time Saladin welcomed to his camp his brother Malec-Adel, who brought with him troops raised in Egypt. This double reinforcement revived the courage of the Mussulmans, but they did not long profit by these advantages, and the hope of conquering the Christians began to give way to the most serious alarms. A report was spread throughout the East that the emperor of Germany had quitted Europe at the head of a numerous army, and was advancing towards Syria. Saladin sent troops to meet such a formidable enemy, and several Mussulman princes quitted the sultan’s army to defend their own states, which were menaced by the Crusaders coming from the West. Ambassadors were sent to the caliph of Bagdad, the princes of Africa and Asia, and to the Mussulman powers of Spain, to engage them to unite their efforts against the enemies of Islamism. Whilst terror thus took possession of the Saracens, the Crusaders conceived fresh hopes, and redoubled their efforts to gain possession of Ptolemaïs before the arrival of the Germans. After several contests, they resolved to make one last attempt to drive the Mussulman army beyond the mountains. Marching from their camp, they presented themselves in order of battle before the Saracens. The Mussulman historians compare their multitude to that which will assemble at the last day in the valley of Jehoshaphat.

At the first signal, the two armies approached, mingled, and soon appeared nothing but one horrible, contending mass. Arrows hissed through the air, lances crossed, and the rapid blows of sabres and swords resounded from the bucklers and steel casques. The Christian knights seemed animated with an invincible ardour. The Templars and Hospitallers carried death wherever they directed their course; Syrians and Franks, foot-soldiers and horsemen, contended for the prize of valour, and rushed together to meet peril and find victory or death. The Mussulman army could not resist their impetuosity, and at the first charge retired in disorder. The plains and hills were covered with Saracen warriors, who fled, throwing away their arms. Victory remained with the Christians; but soon the thirst of booty led them to abandon their ranks, and the face of the battle was changed. The Mussulmans had time to rally, and returned to surprise the conquerors, who were pillaging the tent and camp of the sultan. All at once the Christians were surrounded on every side; and having laid down their arms in their eagerness for booty, could not defend themselves, but were seized by a terror like that with which they had inspired their enemies. The Mussulmans, irritated by their defeat, immolated to their vengeance every Christian that fell in their way. Such of the Crusaders as were most greedy of plunder, lost their lives, together with the spoils with which they were loaded, and were slaughtered without defence in the very tents they had invaded. “The enemies of God,” says Bohaheddin, “dared to enter into the camp of the lions of Islamism; but they experienced the terrible effects of divine wrath. They fell beneath the sword of the Mussulmans as leaves fall in autumn, under the gusts of the tempest. The earth was covered with their bodies, heaped one upon another, like lopped branches which fill the valleys and hills in a forest that has been cut down.” Another Arabian historian speaks thus of this bloody battle: “The Christians fell under the swords of the conquerors, as the wicked will fall into the abode of fire at the last day. Nine ranks of dead covered the ground between the hill and the sea, and each rank was of a thousand warriors.”

Whilst the Christians were being conquered and dispersed, the garrison of Ptolemaïs made a sortie; and, penetrating into their camp, carried off a great number of women and children that were left without defence. The Crusaders, whom night saved from destruction, returned to their camp, deploring their double defeat. The sight of their plundered tents and the losses they had experienced, quite depressed their courage; and the death of Frederick Barbarossa, with the disasters of the German army, of which they were soon informed, appeared to fill up their cup of wretchedness. The despair of the leaders was so great that they determined to return to Europe, and, in order to secure their departure, were seeking to obtain a disgraceful peace of Saladin, when a fleet arrived in the Road of Ptolemaïs, and landed a great number of French, English, and Italians, commanded by Henry, count of Champagne.

Once more hope was restored to the Crusaders; the Christians were again masters of the sea, and might, in their turn, make Saladin tremble, who had believed he had nothing more to dread from them. They renewed their attacks upon the city with spirit. The count of Champagne, who had restored abundance to the camp, caused to be constructed, at great expense, rams of a prodigious size, with two enormous towers composed of wood, steel, iron, and brass. These machines are said to have cost fifteen hundred pieces of gold. Whilst these formidable auxiliaries menaced the ramparts, the Christians mounted several times to the assault, and were, more than once, on the point of planting the standard of the cross on the walls of the infidels.

But the besieged continued to repulse them, and the Mussulmans shut up in the city supported the horrors of a long siege with heroic firmness. The emirs Karacoush and Melchoub were unremitting in their endeavours to keep up the courage of their soldiers. Vigilant, present everywhere, sometimes employing force, and as often stratagem, they allowed no opportunity of surprising the Christians to escape, or to render their attacks abortive. The Mussulmans burnt all the machines of the besiegers, and made several sorties, in which they drove the Christians to the security of their camp.

The garrison received daily reinforcements and provisions by sea; sometimes barks stole along the shore, and got into Ptolemaïs under the favour of night; at others, vessels from Berytus, manned by apostate Christians, hoisted the white flag with a red cross, and thus deceived the vigilance of the besiegers. The Crusaders, to prevent all communication by sea, resolved to get possession of the Tower of the Spies, which overlooked and dominated the port of Ptolemaïs. A vessel, upon which was placed a wooden tower, advanced towards the fort they wished to attack, whilst a bark filled with combustible matters, to which fire had been set, was launched into the port among the Mussulman fleet. Everything seemed to promise success to this attempt, when, all at once, the wind changed, and drove the blazing fire-ship full upon the wooden tower, which was rapidly consumed by the flames. The duke of Austria, who commanded this perilous expedition, followed by several of the bravest of his warriors, had mounted the tower of the infidels sword in hand; but at the sight of the conflagration which was devouring the vessel he came on, he cast himself into the sea, covered with his own blood and that of the Saracens, and gained the shore almost alone.

Whilst the duke of Austria attacked the tower, the army left their camp to make an assault upon the city. The besiegers performed prodigies of valour without success, and were obliged to return in haste to defend their own tents, undergoing fire and pillage by the army of Saladin.