His menaces became the signal for war; and both sides were eager for the conflict. Isaac could not resist the first shock of the English; his troops were beaten and dispersed; his cities opened their gates to the conqueror, and the emperor of Cyprus himself fell into the hands of Richard, who, to insult his vanity and avarice, caused him to be bound with chains of silver. The king of England, after having delivered the inhabitants of Cyprus from a master whom they called a tyrant, made them repay this service with the half of their property, and took possession of the island, which was erected into a kingdom, and remained nearly three hundred years under the domination of the Latins.
It was on this island, in the bosom of victory, and in the vicinity of the ancient Amathus, that Richard celebrated his marriage with Berengaria of Navarre. He then set out for Palestine, dragging after him Isaac, loaded with chains, and the daughter of that unfortunate prince, in whom, it is said, the new queen found a dangerous rival.
The Franks celebrated the arrival of Richard with feux de joie, lighted up throughout the camp. When the English had united their forces with those of the Christian army, Ptolemaïs saw beneath its walls all that Europe could boast of as illustrious captains and valiant warriors. The tents of the Franks covered a vast plain, and their army presented a most majestic and terrible aspect. A spectator, on beholding on the coast of the sea the towers of Ptolemaïs, and the camp of the Christians, in which they had built houses and traced streets, traversed unceasingly by an immense crowd, might have supposed he saw two rival cities which were at war with each other. Each nation had its leader and its separate quarter, and so many languages were spoken by the Crusaders, that the Mussulmans could not find interpreters enough to enable them to understand all the prisoners. In this confused multitude, each people had a different character, different manners, and different arms; but, at the signal for battle, all were animated by the same zeal and the same ardour; the presence of the two monarchs had re-established discipline, and Ptolemaïs could not have prolonged its resistance, if discord, that eternal enemy of the Christians, had not entered their camp with Richard.
The debates relative to the succession to the throne of Jerusalem were renewed on the arrival of the English. Philip declared for Conrad, which was quite enough to determine Richard to give his voice for Guy de Lusignan. The Christian army was filled with troubles, and again divided into two factions: on one side were the French, the Germans, the Templars, and the Genoese; on the other, the English, the Pisans, and the knights of the Hospital. The two parties, ready to break into open war, no longer united their efforts or their arms against the Saracens; whenever the king of France, at the head of his warriors, proceeded to the assault, the king of England remained in his tent in a state of sullen repose.[334] The besieged had never more than one of the monarchs to contend with at once, and the Christian army, after it had received such powerful auxiliaries, became much less redoubtable to the Saracens.
Amidst the disputes which divided the Crusaders, both kings fell dangerously ill, and their hatred and suspicion were so great, that each accused the other of having made an attempt upon his life. As Saladin sent them refreshments and physicians, and as they addressed frequent messages to him, each party reproached the monarch who was opposed to him with keeping up an impious understanding with the Saracens.
The perils of the army, however, with the glory of religion and the interests of the crusade, for a moment stifled the voice of faction, and induced the Crusaders to unite against the common enemy. After long debates, it was decided that Guy de Lusignan should retain the title of king during his life, and that Conrad and his descendants should succeed to the kingdom of Jerusalem. It was at the same time agreed that when one of the two monarchs should attack the city, the other should watch over the safety of the camp, and keep the army of Saladin in check. This agreement re-established harmony; and the Christian warriors, who had been upon the point of taking arms against each other, now only contended for the glory of conquering the infidels.
The siege was resumed with fresh ardour, but the Mussulmans had employed the time wasted by the Christians in vain disputes, in strengthening the city. When the besiegers appeared before the walls, they met with a resistance entirely unexpected, whilst the army of Saladin continued indefatigable and unceasing in its attacks. At the earliest break of day, the drums and trumpets constantly sounded the signal for battle, both from the walls of Ptolemaïs and the camp of the sultan. Saladin animated his troops by his presence; whilst his brother, Malec-Adel, offered an example of bravery to the emirs. Many great battles were fought at the foot of the hills on which the Christians were encamped, and twice the Crusaders gave a general assault; but on both occasions were obliged to return hastily to their tents, to defend them against Saladin.
In one of these attacks, a Christian knight singly defended one of the gates of the camp against a host of Saracens. The Arabian writers compare this knight to a demon animated by all the fires of hell. An enormous cuirass[335] entirely covered him; arrows, stones, lance-thrusts, made no impression on him; all who approached him were slain, and he alone, though stuck all over with javelins and surrounded by enemies, appeared to have nothing to fear. No weapons or force being able to prevail, the Greek fire was at length employed, which being poured upon his head, devoured by flames, he perished like one of the enormous machines that the besieged had burnt under the walls of the city.
Every day the Crusaders redoubled their efforts, and by turns repulsed the army of Saladin, or made assaults upon Ptolemaïs. In one of these assaults, they filled up a part of the ditches of the city with the carcasses of their dead horses and the bodies of their companions who had fallen beneath the swords of the enemy, or been swept away by disease. The Saracens raised up these horrid masses heaped up under their walls, and cast them back again in fragments upon the banks of the ditches, where the sword and lance were for ever immolating fresh victims. Neither the spectacle of death, nor obstacles, nor fatigue affected the Christians. When their wooden towers and their battering-rams were reduced to ashes, they dug into the earth, and by subterranean ways advanced under the foundations of the ramparts. Every day they employed some fresh means or some new machine to subdue the place. An Arabian historian relates that they raised near their camp a hill of earth of a prodigious height, and that by constantly throwing the earth up before them, they brought this mountain close to the city. It had advanced within half a bow-shot, when the Mussulmans issued from their gates, and precipitated themselves in front of this enormous mass, which grew nearer and nearer, and already threatened their walls. Armed with swords, pickaxes, and shovels, they attacked the troops employed in forwarding it, using every effort to remove it back towards the plain; but were only able to arrest its progress by digging vast and deep ditches in its passage.