Jerusalem, the City of Herod and Saladin

by Walter Besant; Edward Henry Palmer

Nullum numen abest, si sit prudentia.

Everything is preserved, if only forethought remains. Shawer sent his messengers. Amaury listened to them. At the same time, as a last resource, Shawer sent couriers in hot haste to Nûr-ed-dín, exposing the critical state of the kingdom. To keep the Christians from advancing, he kept his messengers backwards and forwards, offering, declining, renewing, increasing the advantages of his terms. Amaury was to have a quarter of a million, half a million, a million, two million pieces of gold, on condition that he would give him back his son and nephew, and quit the kingdom. All this time, the negotiations being entirely secret, the king was pretending to advance, but very slowly, and the Christians, not knowing the cause of the delay, were eager to be led. After eight or nine days of negotiations, which the sultan had occupied in getting into Cairo every fighting man upon whom he could reckon, the king moved his forces to a village five or six miles from Cairo, where he pitched his camp. Here messengers from Shawer met him, imploring him not to advance nearer the city, as he was engaged in collecting, with all possible speed and diligence, the sum of money which he had promised. Shawer had already got back his son and nephew, giving in return two grandchildren—children of tender age. Amaury was completely deceived. Lulled by the assurances of Shawer, dazzled by his own golden dreams, he saw himself, the successful violator of a solemn treaty, returning laden with a treasure of gold such as no king of the West could boast; with this he would bring knights from Europe; with this he would beat off the Saracens, conquer Damascus, reconquer Edessa and the strong places of the north; and having successfully used this mighty treasure, he would violate another solemn treaty, return to Egypt with a larger and more powerful army and make himself master of Cairo and all its wealth. There was plenty of time; he was not yet thirty; life was all before him, and many years of enjoyment.

But there came a rude awakening to the dream. Nûr-ed-dín, hearing of the expedition of Amaury, and getting the messengers of Shawer, had for himself two courses open to him. He might take advantage of Amaury’s absence, and pour all his troops together into Palestine, so as either to annihilate the kingdom of Jerusalem, or cripple it beyond power of recovery; or he might send Shírkoh again to Egypt, this time as the ally of Shawer, and with secret instructions as to the nature of the alliance. He preferred the latter course. Egypt was a prey that required courage and promptness; Palestine could wait; like an over-ripe pear, it was certain, sooner or later, to drop at his feet. Shírkoh arrived in Egypt. Shawer dropped the veil, and laughed at Amaury. The king, in an agony of rage and mortification, hastily broke up his camp and retired to Pelusium. Thence, seeing that there was nothing more to be done, he returned in disgrace and confusion to his own kingdom.

As for Shírkoh, he had no intention whatever of going home again without getting something substantial out of the expedition. He established his camp before Cairo, and encouraged Shawer to look on him as one of his best friends, inviting him to enter his camp at all times, and come without escort. And one day, when Shawer, relying on the friendliness of his ally, rode in accompanied only by two or three of his sons and friends, he was seized by the guards of Shírkoh and beheaded, without any resistance being possible. Shírkoh, meantime, was taking a walk on the banks of the Nile, so as to be able to say that he was innocent of the murder. Shawer’s sons fled to the caliph. But the caliph could do nothing; the house of Shawer were all cut off, like the house of Saul; and the representative of the Fatemites was compelled to acknowledge the servant of his rival as his sultan and vizier, the real master of Egypt.

“Oh, blind cupidity of men!” cries William of Tyre; “all the treasures of Egypt were lying at our feet.... There was safety for those who travelled by sea; there was trade for those who wished to enrich themselves in Egypt; there was no enemy for us in the south; the Egyptians brought us their merchandize, and spent their gold in our country. And now all is changed; sad are the notes of our harps; the sea refuses us peaceful navigation; all the countries around us obey our enemies; every kingdom is armed for our ruin. And the avarice of one man has done this; his cupidity has covered over with clouds the clear bright sky which the goodness of the Lord had given us.”

It was some comfort to the Christians to hear that Shírkoh, a year after his accession to power, was gone out of the world. But a mightier than Shírkoh came after him, his nephew, Saladin.

And now, indeed, the situation of the Christian kingdom was precarious. With the exception of Tyre and the towns to the north, the kingdom consisted of nothing but Palestine between Tiberias on the north and Ascalon on the south. All the outlying forts, or nearly all, were already gone. The prestige of Amaury, which had been raised by his first successful expedition, was entirely gone by the ill-success of the second. Moreover, Egypt, which had been a friendly power, was now hostile. By means of a fleet from Egypt the country might be menaced from the sea as well as from the land; reinforcements, supplies, might be cut off; pilgrims intercepted. Under these circumstances, it was resolved to send letters at once to all the Western kings and princes, calling for assistance. The patriarch, the Archbishop of Cæsarea, and the Bishop of Acre were selected to be the bearers of these. The deputies, armed with these despatches, embarked in a single ship. A frightful storm overtook them; the oars were broken; the masts all went by the board; and on the third day, more dead than alive with sickness and fright, the unlucky ambassadors put back to port, and refused to venture themselves again upon the sea. The Archbishop of Tyre took their place, and went away, under better auspices, accompanied by the Bishop of Banias, who died in France. He was away for two years, but did not effect anything. Europe, in fact, was growing tired of pouring assistance into a country, which, like the sea, swallowed everything, gave nothing back, and still demanded more.

The Emperor of Constantinople, however, who was perfectly aware of the importance of keeping the Turks employed in fighting against Palestine, and knew well that, Jerusalem once gone, Asia Minor was at their mercy, and Constantinople would be the object of their ambitions, sent a fleet of a hundred and fifty galleys of war, with sixty large transports, and ten or twelve dromons, filled with all sorts of instruments of war. It would have been better for King Amaury had this gift, a white elephant, which had to be fed, never been sent. As it was come, however, he proceeded to make use of it by invading Egypt a third time. And this time they determined on besieging Damietta, and Amaury led his army from Ascalon, on the 10th October, 1169, on the most useless expedition that he had yet undertaken.

A bar, formed by an iron chain, ran across the river, which prevented the Christian fleet from advancing to the town; they therefore took up their station outside. The troops on land formed the siege in regular form, and, if Amaury had given the word, the town might have been carried by assault; but he let the moment pass, and reinforcements of Turks poured into the place by thousands. Towers were constructed and sorties made by the besieged, but no advantage on either side was gained. But now began the misfortunes of the Christians. The Greeks had no provisions. They subsisted for a while by eating that portion of the palm which is cut from the top of the trunk at the branching out of the leaves, no bad food provided enough can be obtained, the worst of it being that each palm contains no more than enough for a single salad (as the palmiste is now used), and costs the life of a tree. And when the forest of palms was cut down round Damietta there was no more food of any kind to be had, while the soldiers of Amaury were unable to help their allies, having to consider the probability of being in a few days without food themselves. Then heavy rains fell and swamped the tents, and even a broad ditch round each one did not wholly keep out the water. The Greek fleet, too, was nearly destroyed by a fire boat, which was sent down the river. It set fire to six of the galleys, and would have destroyed all the rest but for the king himself, who mounted his horse, half dressed, and rode down to the bank shouting to the sailors. The assaults were continued, but there was no longer any heart in the Christian camp, and Amaury signed a treaty of peace and withdrew his troops to Ascalon, which he reached on the 21st of December, having been engaged for two months in convincing the Saracens of his feebleness even when backed by the Greeks. The fleet was overtaken by a storm, most of the ships were lost, and of all the magnificent array of galleys that sailed from Constantinople in the spring, but very few remained after the campaign of Damietta. The failure of the expedition was probably due to the fact that the Greek Emperor, who had promised a large sum of money sufficient for the maintenance of the army, allowed it to go without any. And the Greek generals, the first to find themselves in want of provisions, not only had no money to buy them, but could find no one to lend them money.

The following year was marked by disasters of quite another kind. A great earthquake, or rather a succession of earthquakes, passed through Palestine, and by its violence and the frequency of its attacks, for it returned again and again during a space of three or four months, filled all men’s hearts with fear; hundreds perished in the ruin of their houses; grief and consternation spread everywhere. Antioch, with nearly its whole population, was entirely destroyed, even its strong walls and towers being all thrown down; Laodicea, Emesa, Aleppo, and Hamath shared the fate of Antioch. Tripoli presented the appearance of a heap of stones, and Tyre, more fortunate than the rest, had yet some of its towers overthrown. Amid these disasters there was no thought of war, and for some months, at least, there was peace. But in December, news came that Saladin was invading Christian territory in the south. Amaury hastened to Ascalon, and called all his chivalry together. They assembled at Gaza, and he found that he could muster two hundred and fifty knights and two thousand foot. Saladin was besieging the fort of Daroum, which the king had himself built. But leaving Daroum, Saladin advanced to Gaza. The Christian army fought their way through to the citadel, and Saladin, after pillaging the city, retired with his forces. Probably his object was to accustom his men by small successes with overwhelming forces for the greater efforts he intended to make when the prestige of the Christians should have sunk lower, and the dread which the Saracens still felt for the strong-armed knights in steel should have wholly, or in great measure, passed away.