The Boy Crusaders Part 12

'Fly if you will!' answered the earl, scornfully; 'but G.o.d forbid that any but liars should ever have it in their power to tell that my father's son fled from the face of a Saracen.'

And now the heavens and the earth seemed to resound with the noise of horns and enormous kettle-drums; and, urged on by Bibars Bendocdar, the Saracens rushed upon their enemies. The plight of the Crusaders was desperate. But, few as they were in comparison with the swarming foe, they fought gallantly and well; and, though wounded and exhausted, maintained the conflict for hours after the flight of the Count of Artois. But fearful in the meantime was the carnage. Full fifteen hundred knights had fallen; and of these, three hundred were of the order of the Temple. Gradually the numbers diminished, till there remained not a dozen of the men who had that morning invaded Fakreddin's camp; and among these were the Earl of Salisbury, Lord Robert de Vere, the Grand Masters of the Temple and the Hospital, Bisset the English knight, and Walter Espec, still unwounded, and fighting as if he bore a charmed life, and felt invulnerable to javelins or arrows.

But all possibility of continuing to resist was now at an end, and every hope of succour had vanished. Salisbury, resolved to sell his life dearly, faced the Saracens with desperate valour, and used his battle-axe with such effect that a hundred Saracens are said to have fallen that day by his hand. At length his horse was killed under him; and, after rising to his feet, and fighting for awhile with disdain, he fell covered with wounds. Robert de Vere, already bleeding and exhausted, no sooner saw Salisbury sink than he wrapped the English standard round his body, and lay down to die by the great earl's side.

Bisset, Walter Espec, and the two grand masters, found themselves surrounded by a host of foes, and defending themselves desperately against every species of a.s.sailant.

'Alas!' exclaimed the grand masters of the Temple, 'we are clearly doomed.'

'I would fain hope not,' answered Bisset, resolutely. 'Our weapons are not willow-wands; we can cut our way through the pagan rabble.'

'Shame upon us if we hesitate!' said Walter Espec.

And drawing close together, with a rush which for a time bore down opposition, the four survivors made a stern endeavour to reach the gate,--the axe of Bisset and the swords of the military monks doing terrible execution. Twice the Saracens formed in a ma.s.s to prevent their reaching the only gate which was not closed; as often Bisset, penetrating singly into the Saracen ranks, dealt death and destruction to his foes, and opened the way for his friends; till gradually, having by force of arm overthrown every obstacle in his path, he reached the gate, and, followed by the Grand Master of the Temple, dashed through the opening, with a shout of defiance at his a.s.sailants.

But the Grand Master of the Hospital and Walter Espec had not such good fortune as the Templar and the English knight. Bibars Bendocdar, enraged at the rumour that some Christians were escaping from the carnage, hastened to the open gate, and, with his arrival, every chance vanished.

Dragged from his steed, the grand master was fain to surrender himself prisoner. Wounded by an arrow and a javelin, but still struggling to fight his way out, Walter Espec cut down a Saracen soldier, and, rising in his stirrups and shouting, 'St. Katherine for Espec!' made a fierce thrust at Bendocdar. But next moment he was felled to the ground; he felt that his blood was flowing fast, and that hors.e.m.e.n were riding over him; and then he lost all consciousness, and lay prostrate and insensible among the dead and the dying.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE BATTLE.

NO sooner did Guy Muschamp find the door of his prison opened, than he rushed out to ascertain the cause of the tumult to which he was indebted for liberty, and he discovered that the camp was deserted and abandoned, save by the wounded and the slain. However, he hastily donned his steel cap, possessed himself of a short sword; and having with little difficulty caught a stray horse, saddled and bridled, he mounted, and rode forth with the idea of following the Crusaders, who by this time were disappearing within the gates of Mansourah.

Fortunately, however, for Guy, he was not destined to share the fate of his gallant countrymen who fell victims to the vain folly of the Count of Artois. Nevertheless, his danger was great. By this time the Count of Brittany and a mult.i.tude of warriors were riding towards Mansourah to aid the Count of Artois; and, as the Saracens who came out to oppose their progress rapidly spread over the plain, Guy began to find his position somewhat perilous, and to give himself up for lost. At that moment, however, his eye and his ear were attracted by the gleaming of spears and the ringing of mail to a ruined house; and, cantering thither, he found to his joyful surprise, that the Lord of Joinville and his knights had taken shelter there, to await the arrival of the king, who was still engaged in pa.s.sing the main body of his army over the Achmoun.

Nor had they long to wait. As with breathless anxiety they watched the Saracens, swarming like bees from their hives, and covering the plain, Louis, having at length crossed the ca.n.a.l, with sound of trumpets and clarions, rode up at the head of his cavalry, and, with a German sword in his hand, halted on an eminence to survey the field. And neither in air nor appearance did Louis, at that moment, look unworthy of the part he was acting as chief of the pilgrim army. His magnificent armour, his gilded helmet, and his n.o.ble bearing, gave him the appearance of being taller by the shoulders than any of his companions. As he reined up his white charger--the symbol of sovereignty--and, with the oriflamme displayed before him, endeavoured calmly to estimate the chances of the conflict, the Lord of Joinville and his knights, surrounded as they were with danger, could not but utter exclamations expressive of admiration.

'By St. James,' exclaimed Joinville, 'I never in my life saw a more handsome man under arms.'

'Certes,' replied one of the knights, 'I could almost believe that the angel of battles had come to our aid.'

While the king was still surveying the combat, that every moment became more fierce and sanguinary, the Constable of France rode up to inform him of the peril of the Count of Artois.

'Sire,' said the constable, 'your n.o.ble brother is shut up in Mansourah; and, albeit he and his comrades hold out gallantly, they must perish if not aided forthwith.'

'Well, constable,' answered Louis, 'on to the rescue, in G.o.d's name, and I will speedily follow.'

The constable, without more words, gave his horse the spur, and dashed towards Mansourah, whither the king and his knights also attempted to make their way. But this was no easy matter. Every moment the Saracens seemed to increase in numbers; and the Crusaders, while struggling bravely not to be overwhelmed by odds, were exposed to terrible hazard.

Louis soon found himself in the thick of the fight and environed by foes. Nothing seemed to remain to him but to sell his life dearly; and six Saracens, rushing forward simultaneously, attempted to seize his bridle, and take him captive. But, at that moment, Louis--gentle and saintly as was his nature--used his German sword with a vigour and effect, scarcely excelled by Richard Coeur de Lion at Joppa, when he charged among the Mamelukes of Saladin, or by Edward Longshanks at Kakhow, when the sweep of his sword, and the rush of his grey steed, struck terror into the heart of the host of Bibars Bendocdar. Down before that short German sword went turban and caftan; till the French knights, aware of their king's danger, spurred in to his rescue, and, with a mighty effort, saved him from captivity.

And now another attempt was made to reach Mansourah. But it was too late. All was over with the brave band who had followed the Count of Artois into the city; and every moment the aspect of affairs became more menacing; for Bibars Bendocdar, elate with his victory within the walls, issued from the gate, animating his soldiers with the words--'G.o.d is powerful,' and hoping to deal with the French king, as he had dealt with the French king's brother. Nor, at first, did it appear that the Crusaders could escape utter defeat. Not aware what was occurring, and suddenly attacked by a mighty force led by a dauntless chief, they were pressed and whirled about and separated from each other, and forced to encounter countless odds at every disadvantage. Yet even in such circ.u.mstances the warriors of France maintained their high reputation for valour; and, as the combat proceeded and became keener and keener, many a strong Saracen went to his account.

On both sides, indeed, great was the display of personal prowess and courage; but there was no generalship. Amidst clouds of dust, and under a glowing sun, Christian and Moslem fought hand to hand, and steel to steel. Helmet and turban mingled confusedly in the struggle; while banners rose and fell, and knights were unhorsed, and saddles emptied.

From Mansourah to Achmoun, and from the Nile to the ford pointed out by the Bedouin, the ground, literally covered with combatants, shook with the rush of their horses, and the sky was rent by the opposing war-cries of 'Islam! Islam!' and 'Montjoie, St. Denis!' What with the shouts of the living, the shrieks of the dying, and the yells of the Saracens, as they bore down on their adversaries like hawks on their prey, all was bloodshed, confusion, and clamour, and the carnage was such as few men, who fought on that field and survived it, ever remembered without a thrill of awe.

And as the day sped on and the battle continued to rage all over the plain, and warriors fell in heaps before and around him, Louis became painfully aware that Mansourah could not be reached, and that the Crusaders were no longer fighting to conquer the Saracens but to save themselves. And there was considerable danger of Bibars Bendocdar drawing near to the Achmoun, and cutting off all communication between the camp of the Duke of Burgundy, and the Christian army struggling for existence on the plains of Mansourah. On becoming aware of the danger, the king decided on falling back towards the ca.n.a.l, and, with the oriflamme displayed, moved in that direction.

Unfortunate were the consequences. A report immediately spread that the king was retreating because the Saracens were everywhere victorious, and immediately there was a panic, and several squadrons disbanded and rushed towards the ca.n.a.l. A terrible scene followed, and men and horses were drowned while struggling in the water. Nothing could have exceeded the disorder and dismay. Louis, indeed, made strenuous efforts to restore confidence, but his voice was scarcely heard in the tumult; and he must have rejoiced when night put an end to the conflict, and when Bibars Bendocdar retired to Mansourah, with the determination to attack the Crusaders on another day, as the tiger draws back to make a more terrible spring.

Repairing to Djedile, Louis dismounted, and took possession of the camp which, at daybreak, had been occupied by the Emir Fakreddin; and when his red tent was pitched there, the Prior of Rosnay presented himself, and kissed the king's hand.

'Sire,' said he, wishing to break the news gently, 'I know not if you have heard tidings of your n.o.ble brother, the Count of Artois?'

'I know all,' answered Louis, mournfully.

'Sire,' said the prior, endeavouring to administer consolation, 'no King of France has ever reaped such honour as you have done this day. You have crossed a dangerous river; you have gained a victory; you have put your enemies to flight; you have captured their engines of war; and now you are taking possession of their camp.'

'May G.o.d be praised for all that I have, with His aid, been able to do in His cause,' said Louis, with a faltering voice, and tears rolling down his cheeks, as he entered his pavilion.

'On my faith, sir prior,' said John de Valery, with the tone of a man who has a presentiment of coming calamity, 'I marvel how you can speak of this day's work as a triumph of our arms. Often have I fought for victory; but this day I have felt too surely that I was fighting not for victory but for life.'

'In truth,' said the Lord of Joinville, who had joined them, 'I would fain hope for better fortune in the future; for, call this a victory if you will, such another victory would be worse than a defeat.'

CHAPTER XXIII.

HOW JOINVILLE KEPT THE BRIDGE.

WHEN the Constable of France informed King Louis that the Count of Artois was in extreme peril, and when Louis made an effort to go to the rescue of his brother--the Lord of Joinville, having previously left the ruined house, and joined the king, endeavoured to keep in the royal warrior's company. But all efforts with this object proved vain. The Saracens, raising clouds of dust and uttering ferocious yells as they advanced, came down upon the Crusaders with a force that was irresistible. The French were scattered in all directions; and Joinville was separated from Louis some minutes before the person of the saintly monarch was in such imminent danger. But in the meantime the seneschal's band had been reduced to six persons, including Guy Muschamp, who adhered with determination to Joinville's side; and between them and the king, then struggling to save his liberty, intervened thousands of Saracens.

'Impossible for us to make our way through such a crowd,' said Joinville; 'much better, therefore, will it be to wheel round and get on the other side of them.'

Accordingly they wheeled round, and gained the bank of the river, and began to descend. But at this moment the aspect of the field became most alarming to the armed pilgrims. The Crusaders and Saracens met on the banks, and many of the French, attempting to cross and form a junction with the Duke of Burgundy, were drowned; and the river was covered with lances, pikes, shields, and horses and men struggling in vain to save themselves.

By this time the Lord of Joinville, heading his knights, had reached a bridge on one of the roads to Mansourah; and on perceiving the miserable state of the army he halted.

'It is better,' said he, after looking round, 'to remain where we are, and guard this bridge; for, if we leave it, the Saracens may come and attack the king on this side, and, if he is a.s.saulted from two quarters, he will surely be discomfited.'

Accordingly they posted themselves on the bridge which was between the ca.n.a.l Achmoun and the gates of Mansourah, and prepared to defend it against the Saracens. But such was the danger, that Joinville's heart, brave as it was, beat with terror, and he cried aloud for the protection of St. James.

'Good Lord St. James,' exclaimed he; 'succour me, I beseech thee, and come to my aid in this hour of need.'

It seemed to him and his companions that his prayer was answered. Almost as he uttered it, the Count of Soissons, who was his kinsman, appeared riding past the bridge; and Joinville hastened to secure his company.

'Sir count,' said he; 'I beg you to remain with us and guard this bridge; for, should it be lost, the king will have his enemies upon him both in front and rear.'

'Willingly, seneschal,' replied the count; and he placed himself on Joinville's right hand, while a French knight who was with him took his station on the left.

While Joinville and his companions were seated on their horses, prepared to keep the bridge at all hazards against all comers, the Saracens made repeated efforts to drive them from their post. But they remained firm as rocks. Trusting to accomplish by stratagem what they could not do by force, the Saracens attempted to lure them from the spot; and one stalwart horseman, galloping suddenly forward, felled one of the French knights with his battle-axe, and then retreated to his own people, hoping that he would be followed. But Joinville, who comprehended the purpose, would not be decoyed, and resolutely kept his ground, though annoyed and wounded by a rabble of half-armed Saracens, who incessantly threw darts, and large stones, and hard clods.

At length, however, the Saracens began to make themselves much more formidable, and to discharge Greek fire, which threatened to do much mischief, and pressed forward with savage yells.