The sentiment of honour, and the humanity which is inseparable from it, often dried tears that the disasters of war had caused to flow; tender and virtuous passions associated themselves in the minds of heroes with the austere maxims of religion and the sanguinary images of battle. Amidst the corruption of camps, love, by inspiring the knights and troubadours who had taken the cross with noble and delicate sentiments, preserved them from the seductions of gross debauchery. More than one warrior, animated by the remembrance of beauty, caused his bravery to be greatly admired, whilst fighting against the Saracens. It was in this crusade that the Châtelain de Coucy fell, mortally wounded, by the side of King Richard. In a song, which is still extant, he had bid adieu to France, saying that he went to the Holy Land to obtain three things of inestimable value to a knight,—Paradise, glory, and the love of his mistress.[355] A chronicle of the middle ages relates, that after he had received a mortal wound and was about to breathe his last sigh, the faithful Châtelain first confessed himself to the legate of the Pope, and then charged his squire to bear his heart to the lady de Fayel. The last commands of Coucy, and the horrible banquet that a cruel husband caused to be served up to the victim of his jealousy, show at once what chivalry could inspire of the most touching kind, and that which the manners of the twelfth century could exhibit of the most barbarous.[356] The troubadours celebrated in their songs the chivalric love of the noble Châtelain, and the despair of the beautiful De Vergy, when she learnt she had eaten the heart of her faithful knight. If we may believe old chronicles, the lord de Fayel, pursued by remorse and the opinion of his contemporaries, was obliged to go to the Holy Land, to expiate his crime and the death of his unfortunate wife.
In this crusade, in which so many knights rendered themselves illustrious, two men acquired an immortal glory, one by a useless bravery, and qualities more brilliant than solid, the other by real successes and virtues that might have served as models to Christians. The name of Richard remained during a century the terror of the East, and the Saracens and Turks celebrated him in their proverbs a long time after the crusades. He cultivated letters, and merited a place among the troubadours; but the arts did not at all soften his character; it was his ferocity as well as his courage that procured him the surname of Cœur de Lion. Carried away by the inconstancy of his inclinations, he often changed his projects, his affections, and his principles of action; he sometimes braved religion, and very often devoted himself to its service. Sometimes incredulous, as often superstitious; measureless in his hatred as in his friendship, he was extravagant in everything, and only showed himself constant in his love for war. The passions which animated him scarcely ever permitted his ambition to have an aim or a determinate object. His imprudence, his presumption, and the unsteadiness of his plans, made him lose the fruits of his exploits. In a word, the hero of this crusade is more calculated to excite surprise than to create esteem, and appears to belong less to history than to the romances of chivalry.
With less rashness and bravery than Richard, Saladin possessed a more firm character, one far better calculated to carry on a religious war. He paid more attention to the results of his enterprises; more master of himself, he was more fit to command others. When mounting the throne of the Atabeks, Saladin obeyed rather his destiny than his inclinations; but when once firmly seated, he was governed by only two passions,—that of reigning, and that of securing the triumph of the Koran. On all other subjects he was moderate, and when a kingdom or the glory of the prophet was not in question, the son of Ayoub was admired as the most just and mild of Mussulmans. We may add that the stern devotion[357] and ardent fanaticism that made him take up arms against the Christians, only rendered him cruel and barbarous in one single instance. He displayed the virtues of peace amidst the horrors of war. “From the bosom of camps,” says an Oriental poet, “he covered the nations with the wings of his justice, and poured upon his cities the plenteous showers of his liberality.” The Mussulmans, always governed by fear,[358] were astonished that a sovereign could inspire them with so much love, and followed him with joy to battle. His generosity, his clemency, and particularly his respect for an oath, were often the subjects of admiration to the Christians, whom he rendered so miserable by his victories, and of whose power in Asia he had completed the overthrow.[359]
The third crusade, which was so glorious for Saladin, was not entirely without advantages for Europe. Many Crusaders on the way to Palestine, stopped in Spain, and by their victories over the Moors, prepared the deliverance of the kingdoms situated beyond the Pyrenees. A great number of Germans, as in the second crusade, prevailed upon by the solicitations of the pope, made war upon the barbarous inhabitants of the shores of the Baltic, and thus, by useful exploits, extended the limits of the Christian republic in the West. As in this war the greater part of the Crusaders went to Palestine by sea, the art of navigation made a sensible advance; the maritime nations of Europe acquired an accession of prosperity, their fleets became more formidable, and they were able, with glory, to dispute the empire of the sea with the Saracens.
In several states of Europe, commerce, and the spirit of the holy wars contributed to the enfranchisement of the lower classes. Many serfs, upon becoming free, took up arms. It was not one of the least interesting spectacles of this crusade, to see the standards of several cities of France and Germany floating in the Christian army amongst the banners of lords and barons.
This crusade was particularly beneficial to France, from which it banished both civil and foreign wars. By prolonging the absence of the great vassals and the enemies of the kingdom, it weakened their power, and gave Philip Augustus authority to levy imposts, even upon the clergy. It afforded him an opportunity of surrounding his throne with a faithful guard, to keep up regular armies, and prepare, though at a distance,[360] that victory of Bovines which proved so fatal to the enemies of France.
A long captivity awaited Richard on his return to Europe. The vessel in which he embarked was shipwrecked on the coast of Italy, and fearing to pass through France, he took the route of Germany, concealed under the habit of a simple pilgrim. His liberality betrayed the monarch, and as he had enemies everywhere, he was seized by the soldiers of the duke of Austria. Leopold had not sufficient generosity to forget the outrages received from Richard at the siege of Ptolemaïs, and detained him prisoner. It was not known in Europe what had become of King Richard, when a gentleman of Arras, named Blondel, set out in search of his master, and traversed Germany in the dress and with the lyre of a minstrel. On his arrival before a castle, in which, it was said, languished an illustrious captive, Blondel began to sing the first couplet of a song which he had composed in conjunction with Richard. From the top of a high tower a voice answered him, and sang the second couplet.[361] Then the faithful troubadour returned into England to announce that he had discovered the prison of the king. The duke of Austria, terrified at this discovery, did not dare to detain longer his redoubtable captive in his own hands, and gave him up to the emperor of Germany. Henry VI., who had likewise insults to revenge, was rejoiced to get Richard in his power, and kept him in chains, as if he had made him a prisoner in the field of battle. The hero of the crusade, who had filled the world with his renown, was cast into a dark dungeon, and remained a long time a victim to the vengeance of his enemies—and they were Christian princes.
He was brought before the German diet, assembled at Worms, where he was accused of all the crimes that hatred and envy could invent. But the spectacle of a king in chains was so affecting, that no one durst condemn Richard, and when he offered his justification, the bishops and nobles melted into tears, and besought Henry to treat him with less injustice and rigour.
Queen Eleanor implored all the powers of Europe for the release of her son. The complaints and tears of a mother touched the heart of Celestine, who had recently ascended the chair of St. Peter. The pope several times demanded the liberty of the king of England, and even excommunicated the duke of Austria and the emperor; but the thunders of the Church had so often been launched against the thrones of Germany, that they no longer inspired fear. Henry braved the anathemas of the Holy See; the captivity of Richard lasted another year; and he only obtained his liberty after engaging to pay a considerable ransom. His kingdom, which he had ruined at his departure for the Holy Land, exhausted itself to hasten his return; and England gave up even her sacred vases to break the chains of her monarch. He was received with enthusiasm by the English; his adventures, which drew tears, obliterated the remembrance of his cruelties, and Europe only recollected his exploits and his misfortunes.