The Boy's Book Of Heroes Part 4

Meanwhile the king had pa.s.sed the ford in his turn, with all the rest of the hors.e.m.e.n, and was greatly surprised that he did not find his brother and the advance guard waiting for him on the other side. Fearing some misfortune had happened, he told ten of his knights to go in search of Count Robert, and remind him that he was to attempt nothing until the whole army had a.s.sembled. After this he set out quickly in the direction of the Saracens; but what was his astonishment when he found that instead of being able to stand against them, he was surrounded by them on all sides, whilst the air was filled with their hideous cries, and the noise of their barbarous instruments! The Saracens, terror-stricken at first by the approach of the Christians, had now rallied in mult.i.tudes, and completely closed in the army of the crusaders between the river and the town of Ma.s.soura. The king, undismayed, prepared for immediate battle, although his knights and n.o.bles tried to persuade him that it would be hopeless to combat so large a force. Just at that moment the constable Imbert de Beaujeu rode up to tell him that the Count of Artois was besieged in a house at Ma.s.soura, and would perish if succour did not arrive. The king sent a body of troops to his aid, and promised that he would soon be with him himself; and then he turned to his people and exhorted them to keep their ranks firm; and told them that the soldiers of Christ ought not to fear a set of miscreants like those who were crowding around them. The whole aspect of the king that day inspired courage; his face was calm, his eyes shone with a steadfast light; he had a helmet of gold on his head, which from his great height towered above the ranks of his army; his double-edged sword was so heavy, that to strike a blow with it, he had to grasp it with both hands.

The signal being given, the bravest of the crusaders rushed on the Saracens; others, less courageous, tried to regain the camp of the Duke of Burgundy, but were most of them drowned in the attempt. The king was sure to be found where the fight was the thickest, or where the weak were in want of succour; and once during the battle he was surrounded by six Saracens, who seized the bridle of his horse, and yet he freed himself by his own aid alone.

The Duke of Burgundy and his men heard the conflict going on from the opposite sh.o.r.e; they longed to fly to the king's a.s.sistance, but their very eagerness hindered them, and it was a long time before any of them could cross the river. When a body of the king's archers arrived on the plain, they found that Louis had maintained his ground, and that the battle of Ma.s.soura was won: yet, had it not been for the king's example, the day had been lost, so great was the fury and strength of the enemy.

Both Christians and Saracens were now utterly wearied out with fighting; the heat had been intense, and Louis, having waited for all the wounded who could be a.s.sembled, set out at sunset for the Saracen camp on the Thanis.

His golden helmet oppressed him, and he was glad to accept from Joinville a casque of steel, which enabled him to breathe more freely. He had only gone a little way on the road when a prior of the knights hospitallers met him and asked if he knew where his brother was, the Count of Artois.

"Yes," replied the king, "I know that he is in heaven." And then he said that the Lord should be praised equally for what He gave and for what He withheld; and in the dark of the evening his tears began to flow, not only for his own sorrow, but for that of the young Countess of Artois, who had only come out to the East to bid her husband a last farewell.

For Robert indeed was slain; deaf to the remonstrances of the Grand Master of the Templars, an old man, whose advice had been well heeded, and to those of the Earl of Salisbury, he persisted in following the Saracens to Ma.s.soura, and had met there the fate he had drawn upon him by his untimely zeal and rashness. His brave companions perished with him, with the exception of the Grand Master, who lost an eye in the conflict, and one or two others; the Englishman who bore the standard wrapped it around him as he fell. And as the king appeared to have known beforehand what had happened, so it is said the mother of the Earl of Salisbury had a vision of her son ascending to heaven, with a crown of glory on his head, before she received the tidings of his death.

The king encamped that night close by the machines of the Saracens, and on the second day after the battle of Ma.s.soura, the struggle began afresh. The Saracens had taken the victory to themselves, and had sent the news of their supposed triumph to Cairo by their carrier pigeons. Bondocar, the chief, who had rallied the troops in Ma.s.soura appeared on the field in the coat of arms starred with lilies which Robert of Artois had worn. The Greek fire was poured forth incessantly from the front line of the Saracens as they came up in battle array; the king had the crupper of his horse covered with it once during the conflict, when he had gone to the rescue of his brother Charles, who was in danger. The Saracens were repulsed a second time, but the victory was dearly bought, so many men and horses being wounded, and the crusaders pa.s.sed a dreary time before Ma.s.soura, whilst their provisions grew less and less; and it being Lent, they lost their strength by eating only roots, wheat, and fruit; fish they had in plenty at first, but to their horror they found out that they had fed on the dead bodies which the Saracens had thrown into the river. A pestilence broke out, and the camp was like one vast hospital. The king, in mistaken zeal, had caused the bodies to be taken out of the water, that those of the Christians might receive Christian burial, and helped to bury them himself.

This only increased the unwholesomeness of the air, and at last Louis fell ill too. The crusaders now began to despair; the king had been as brave in misfortune as he had been on the battle-field, and had cheered the spirits of his followers: he visited the sick day and night, and sat beside the bedside of the dying, reminding them of their Saviour's love, and comforting many a poor soul with the hope of heaven. It is recorded how one of the lowliest of the army declared as he lay dying that he could not depart until he had seen the kind face of his master bending over him once more.

The Saracens having prevented the approach of the vessels that were coming to the camp with provisions, the king, as a last resource, offered to give up the city of Damietta to the Sultan Malek al Moadhem, if he would agree to restore Jerusalem to the Christians, the Counts of Poiton and Anjou remaining in Egypt as hostages.

The Sultan would have no other hostage but the king himself, and Louis would willingly have sacrificed himself for his people if his n.o.bles had allowed him to do so. There was no alternative but to retreat to Damietta, and the army decamped one spring night in the dark, the old people and the sick and wounded being carried out first, and the king leaving the camp the last of all with the barons Gautier de Chatillon and Geoffray de Sardines.

He was so weak and ill that he could hardly sit upright on his little Arab horse; yet he was the bravest among the brave in that troop which went slowly and sadly along in the dark, defending themselves as they could from the attacks of the Arabs, who had been bribed for the purpose of molesting them.

Geoffray de Sardines had to deal many a blow to keep the Saracens from his master, who soon became too feeble to lift his sword, and they were in the greater danger because the whole of the Egyptian army was behind them. At last they reached a little village, and the king, having fainted away, was carried into the first house they met with, whilst Chatillon stood outside in the street defending it until he fell mortally wounded.

When Louis had recovered a little, Philip de Montfort came to him, and told him that he had seen an emir, to whom he had been sent on a mission once before, and if he liked he would make a treaty with him on the terms desired by the Saracens.

The king agreed to the plan; De Montfort went to the emir, and all would have been well if a sergeant belonging to the French army, thinking to save the king's life, had not cried out to the knights who were standing around, "Surrender, Sir Knights! the king commands you to do so!" The Christian warriors, believing that the king had really commanded them to give way, lay down their swords, and the emir, seeing they were all prisoners, said there was no further need of a treaty. Then cords and chains were thrown around them, and they were all conducted to Ma.s.soura.

The king was shut up in the house of a scribe; he was loaded with chains, and strictly watched, while the barons and knights were huddled together in a court which was open to the sky. King Louis was very unkindly treated by the Sultan at first; he was only allowed to have one attendant with him; this man, whose name was Isambert, nursed him tenderly, dressed him, and made his bread; and said afterwards that he had never heard his master utter one word of complaint or impatience during the whole time of his captivity. It was a marvel how Louis ever lived through his illness; his strength was almost spent; and at night, to add to his discomfort, he had nothing to cover him as he lay on his wretched bed but an old cloak, which a poor man had given him out of compa.s.sion in Ma.s.soura.

After a time, Malek al Moadhem, fearing the reproaches of the European nations, treated his captive more kindly; he had his chains removed and sent him his own physicians, and delicate food from his royal table, and to keep him warm he gave him two robes of black samite, trimmed and lined with fur, which were plentifully adorned with gold b.u.t.tons. And best of all he allowed him to have his almoner and a priest with him, and something like joy came back to the poor king when the Saracens brought him one day his missal, or book of prayers, which he had lost and never thought to see again. And so, comforted and strengthened by prayer, Louis was not unhappy even within prison walls, away from all he loved, and waited patiently until the Almighty should see fit to make a way for him to regain his liberty.

And a way came at last: the sultan agreed to release him on condition of his giving up Damietta and paying a ransom of a million besants of gold.

Louis agreed to the terms, but he said that the liberty of the King of France should not be bought with money, and that the gold should be paid for his people, and the city should be his own ransom. The sultan, struck with the spirit of his reply, reduced the sum he had asked by two hundred thousand besants, and a truce was concluded between the Christians and the Saracens of Egypt and Syria. It was arranged that half the ransom should be paid at once, and the other half as soon as the king should reach the port of Acre in Palestine, his brother Alphonse remaining in Egypt as hostage.

Louis was then set at liberty; he had recovered from his illness through the skill of the Arabian physicians, and he repaired to Acre where the queen and the princesses had already arrived, having quitted Damietta a little while before. It was a joyful meeting, for Marguerite had been very unhappy through all those long sad months at Damietta, not only on account of the miseries of the crusaders, but also from the constant fear of falling into the hands of the Saracens herself. And a little son who was born to her there received the name of "Tristan," in memory of the sorrows she had endured.

Louis did not return to France at once, but remained some time at Acre, in the hope of inducing the Christian powers to enter into a league for the recovery of the Holy Land, and it was not until the news of his mother's death reached him, and his presence was required in his country, that he bade farewell to the East, where he had bravely striven for so much, and yet had gained so little.

The king was received with great joy by his people on his return to France, but they were less happy when they saw the cross still on his shoulder, as a sign that he meant to engage in another crusade when the truce should have expired. As soon as he arrived he occupied himself in making good laws for his country, and was so greatly famed for his justice that other sovereigns were glad to benefit by his example. His laws against evil-doers were very severe; no murderer or thief dared abide in Paris, and merchants and tradesmen who gave false measures were punished with extreme rigour.

The king used often to sit beneath an oak in the Bois de Vincennes, or on a carpet spread in a garden, to hear the complaints and grievances of the common people, and to administer justice to them. He had always been charitable from his earliest years: a hundred and twenty poor persons were maintained in his house, and three poor old men, besides those who were crippled and lame, dined with him every day at his own table; the king would cut their bread and meat for them, and pour out their wine, and would serve them before he ate anything himself. And beyond this, he gave large sums to hospitals, religious houses, and colleges, and succoured widows and poor ladies and gentlemen, and all those who by reason of age or illness could no longer work for their living.

The good king used to employ the morning with the affairs of the state; he dined at mid-day, and after dinner his readers would come to him, and he read the Bible with interpreters, or the works of the fathers of the church: sometimes, instead of reading, he would converse with good and learned men, who always found a welcome at his court. In the evening, before he retired to rest, he used to a.s.semble his children around him, and hear them repeat their prayers and the tasks they had learned during the day. Then he would tell them of the deeds of good emperors and kings, and of the fate that generally befel those who were idle, or careless of the happiness of their subjects. At midnight he would rise from his bed to attend Matins, and so afraid was he of being asleep when any of the church services began, that he had candles lighted which only burnt a certain time, that his servants might not fail to awaken him as soon as they were spent. His brothers used to share with him works of charity and holy offices. When Baldwin II., Emperor of Constantinople, sent him as a gift the Crown of Thorns supposed to be the one worn by our blessed Saviour, and part of the word of the True Cross on which He died, in return for the aid Louis had afforded him when he was in great need, we read how the king received the sacred relics in the deepest humility, and bareheaded and barefoot carried the Crown of Thorns with his brother Robert of Artois to the church of Notre-Dame. It was to form a shrine for these relics that Louis built the beautiful Sainte Chapelle in Paris. Again, we read how, when a new hospital was completed, the king carried in the first bed himself, with his son-in-law, the King of Navarre, whilst his brothers conveyed the remainder of the sick people into the wards. The whole family were united in deeds of love and compa.s.sion. There was no office too lowly for Louis to perform; no person, however mean and wretched, who had not a place in his heart. And if we except the harsh laws he made against the Jews through his zeal for the Christian faith, no sovereign ever showed more mercy and justice towards his people.

One Good Friday, when the king was going his rounds to all the churches in Paris, according to his custom, he saw on the other side of the way a leper who was shunned by every person he met. The king immediately crossed over the muddy road and gave the poor man some money, and kissed his hand to show that he loved him, although he was despised and avoided by all others.

The king never resumed his costly robes after his return from the Holy Land, but wore dark-coloured garments of cloth and silk, and instead of handsome furs he only wore the skins of hares, rabbits, and squirrels, that he might have the more money to spare for his charities.

In the summer of the year 1270 the Christians set out once more from the port of Aigues-Mortes on the seventh and last crusade. Bondocar had become a very powerful sovereign, and the Saracens were making so great progress in the East, that all Christian princes became alarmed, and were urged by the Pope to hasten to the relief of Palestine.

The Crusaders, with Louis and three of his sons at their head, directed their course this time to Tunis, hoping by gaining possession of that city to cut off all communication between the Saracens of the East, and those of Morocco and Spain.

As soon as they arrived before Tunis the enemy came in sight, as if they were going to attack the camp, and then retired. Just as they were vanishing in the distance two Spanish slaves came and told the king that the Lord of Tunis had arrested all who were Christians amongst his troops, and intended to cut off their heads directly the march should begin upon Tunis. The next night three Saracens appeared before the advance guard of the Christians, and touching their turbans in token of respect, made known by signs that they demanded baptism.

The king did not know what to think of the matter, and ordered them to be guarded in a tent; and a little while after a hundred more appeared, making the same signs. Whilst they were amusing the soldiers by their odd gestures, other Saracens rushed unexpectedly upon the camp, and after killing many of the Christians, ran away before they could be captured. The army thought to revenge the affront on the three men, but they began to shed tears, and one of them declared that a captain of more than two thousand men like himself wanted to ruin him by treachery, and if the king would send one of the two others to the camp of the Saracens, the whole army would pa.s.s over to the Christians. The king did not dare to trust him, and thought it wisest to send them all away, for fear he should be guilty of shedding innocent blood. As the Crusaders were making a very deep ditch the next day all around the camp, the entire body of the Saracens came in sight, spreading from the sea on one side, to the country on the other.

They meant to surround the army, but Louis rushing out upon them, a skirmish ensued, and when a few of their number were slain, all the rest took flight. Thus they kept on hara.s.sing and dodging the army; the Christian warriors had no peace with them; and if ever they took off their armour they had to put it on again directly for some fresh alarm, although the Saracens never ventured to give them battle.

Louis was desirous of waiting before Tunis until the arrival of his brother Charles, now king over Sicily; and he prepared meanwhile by sea and land for the siege of the city, which was very strongly fortified. The delay proved the source of misfortune; the Christians had worse evils to contend with than those occasioned by the Saracens. The heat was intense, and the reflection from the sunlit mountains caused a dazzling light which almost blinded their eyes. When the wind blew it came loaded with burning sand, and the plague broke out on the coast. Then the Crusaders drooped one by one; the young Count de Nevers, the son whom Louis loved best of all, was seized with the sickness and died, and on the day of his death the good Saint Louis fell ill himself. When he felt that he should never rise from his bed again, he set all his earthly affairs in order, and gave good advice to his children, telling them always to love one another, and maintain the peace of their country. For the rest of the time he lived he prayed in patience, and praised G.o.d for all that had befallen him throughout his life; and one night he uttered the word "Jerusalem," adding, "Let us go to Jerusalem." It was to the heavenly Jerusalem the king was going, the eternal city, where all weeping and sorrow and trouble should be hushed for ever. Before he died he prayed long and earnestly for his people, that they might be delivered from their enemies, and last of all, with peace in his face, he lifted up his eyes to heaven and said, "Lord, I will enter into Thy house; I will adore Thee in Thy holy temple, and I will glorify Thy name."

When Charles of Anjou arrived at Tunis a little while after the king had ceased to breathe, he was surprised to find that the camp was all silent, and that no one had come to meet him on the sh.o.r.e. And hastening to the royal tent, the sight that greeted him was the dead body of his brother clad in a hair shirt, and stretched on a bed of ashes; for thus had Louis, in his humility, desired to die. Charles shed many tears, and kissed the feet of his dead brother again and again, and the whole camp was filled with sorrowful faces, so dearly had the good king been loved by his followers.

Louis, having reigned over France for nearly forty-four years, left the kingdom to his eldest son Philip, who carried on the crusade for a while with the other princes, and defeated the Saracens on several occasions. By November, however, all the French Crusaders had quitted the East, and Philip occupied himself in the affairs of his own country. His father wrote him some instructions, which he was to read after his death, and which have been carefully preserved. The following maxims were amongst those they contained:--

"Dear son, the first thing I teach thee is to set thy heart to love G.o.d, for without Him none can be saved.

"If G.o.d send thee adversity, receive it with patience, and thank the Lord for it, and think that thou hast deserved it, and that it will turn to thy profit. If He give thee prosperity, thank Him for it humbly, so as not to lose by pride or otherwise what ought to render thee better; for one ought not to abuse the gifts of G.o.d."

"Be kind and charitable to the poor, the weak, and those who are in trouble, and aid them according to thy power."

"Maintain the good customs of thy country, and destroy the bad ones. Only have in thy company prudent and unambitious men. Flee and avoid the company of the wicked."

"Listen willingly to the word of G.o.d, and keep it in thy heart. Let no one be so bold as to speak a word which might lead to sin in thy presence."

GUSTAVUS VASA, KING OF SWEDEN.

There was once a princess named Margaret, daughter of Waldemar, King of Denmark, who on her father's death married Haquin, king of Norway. When her husband died she reigned over Norway alone; and when her son Olaus died she reigned over Denmark too. Margaret governed her people well, but she dearly loved power, and was not content with the countries she already possessed; so she went to war with her near neighbours, the Swedes, and defeated and captured Albert, their king. Margaret kept him in prison seven years, and then only released him when he had agreed to give up his crown as the price of his liberty. In the year 1397 a great meeting of the States General of the three countries was held at a place called Calmar, and there it was settled that Denmark, Sweden, and Norway, should all be governed by one sovereign. After Margaret's death the Swedes were very unhappy for many years, because they were so sorely oppressed by the Danes: they did not submit tamely, and a long series of troubles and wars ensued.

When Gustavus Vasa, the great hero of the North, was born in the year 1490, Sweden had in some measure freed itself from the Danish yoke, and was governed by Sten Sture, a Swede, who had the t.i.tle of Adminstrator. Sture was a man of firm and upright character, who had never suffered the Danes to triumph over him, although they were always trying to regain full power over his country, and had made a solemn vow with the Russians to subdue it entirely.

Gustavus Erickson, commonly called Gustavus Vasa, was born at the Castle of Lindholm, near Stockholm. His father, Erick Johannson, was descended from the royal houses of Vasa and Sture, both of which came from the Old Norwegian kings, and were connected with many of the royal families of Europe. They had always been renowned for their love of freedom, their steadfast spirit, and their valour. Sten Sture had given to Erick Johannson a beautiful estate, called Castle-holm, and the Island of Aland, in the Gulf of Bothnia. He loved to have him with him at his court, and took charge of his little son Gustavus, because he wanted to see him grow up worthy of his royal birth, and to teach him to love his unhappy country with all his heart; hoping that he might one day restore to it the freedom it had enjoyed before it was overcome by the ambitious Northern queen.

The boy was brought up simply and without luxury; he ate coa.r.s.e food, and learned to hunt, and was allowed to climb about the mountains around Lindholm as much as he liked, so that he grew very strong, and could endure great fatigue without a murmur, whilst he thoroughly enjoyed his sports and his liberty in the keen, fresh air. When John, the reigning king of Denmark came in State to visit Sture at Stockholm, he was struck by the spirited bearing, and free, open nature of Gustavus; and fearing that when he was older he might prove the source of danger to himself, he asked Sture to let him take care of him, and bring him up at the Danish court. Sture, however, wisely declined his offer, and sent the child to Aland to be out of danger, and watched over him until his death, when Svante Sture governed Sweden in his place. Gustavus was treated with great kindness by the new Administrator, who loved peace, and only suffered good men to be around him, thus making his Court a school for all knightly virtues. Gustavus remained with him until he was eighteen, and then went to Upsal to attend a school which had been founded there by the elder Sture. A story is told of him which shows how deeply the teaching of his friend had taken root in his heart. In one of the divisions of the school he was accustomed to read the cla.s.sics with a Dane, who once happened to let fall some remarks against Sweden. In a moment, the Swedish youth drew his sword, plunged it through the book which was open before him, and rushed out of the place, never to return to it again. For all this, he was very happy at Upsal, and they were merry days when a flock of students, in their red gowns, rushed out of the city gates to enjoy a holiday in the open country beyond. Gustavus studied with great diligence, and was more learned than most of the other n.o.ble youths of his time, for in general they were quite content if they knew how to handle their weapons, and cared very little for learning out of books.

Gustavus made himself perfect in all knightly accomplishments, and could play on several musical instruments, which were all kept long afterwards, hung up in the Castle of Stockholm, in remembrance of the happy days of his youth. He never touched them after he had once given his whole thought to the rescue of his country, but I dare say, when his great work was done, and Sweden was free and happy once more, and he looked at them as they hung on the walls, he seemed to hear all the old tunes which had gladdened his youth, and thought kindly of the companions of his early years, who had many of them died, or pa.s.sed out of his sight.

Gustavus was tall, slender, and fairhaired; his countenance was open and expressed kindness; his temper was cheerful, and his courage could never be daunted: he had a wonderful memory to the very last hours of his life. When he had been in Upsal six years he came back to the Court of Stockholm, where he went on with his studies, and lived until he was twenty-five years of age, beloved by his friends, and esteemed by all for his upright conduct.

In the meantime a change had taken place in the affairs of Denmark. King John was dead, and his son Christiern the Second had come to the throne.

The new king suffered himself to be advised by his mother-in-law Sigbritt, a spiteful and meddling Dutchwoman; and he began his reign with many unjust actions towards the Swedes, which provoked them to fight once more for their freedom. Sten Sture the younger had succeeded his father Svante; he resolved to free his country from the bondage of Denmark, and he spoke earnest words in the Council House.

"We must be firm," he said. "We must offer up our blood, and show the people who come after us, how dear to us was our freedom, rather than sit still with a weight upon our shoulders, which crushes us to the ground."

And very soon the war began. King Christiern came himself to the scene of action, and lay siege to Stockholm. Sture and Gustavus Erickson, who bore the banner of Sweden, gained two victories over the Danes; the king was in danger, being nearly surrounded by his enemies, and was obliged to think of returning to his own country. He made it appear as if he wished for peace, and agreed to meet Sture in order to treat for terms, provided hostages were sent to his quarters in the persons of Gustavus and five Swedish statesmen of high rank. It was arranged that when these hostages reached his vessel at a place called Krongshamm, he should present himself in the quarters of Sture, and that when he returned to his vessel the Swedes should be free to depart.

Although it was well known that the promises of Christiern were not to be trusted, the six hostages set out in a boat with a crew of twelve men, but they had hardly got half-way when a Danish vessel, having a hundred men on board, met them, and closed their path. The captain told them that the king wished to meet them at a place called Elfsnabbe, where he had some important matters to discuss with them. Gustavus replied with spirit that they had simply come as hostages, and had no power to transact business; they would therefore either await the king at Krongshamm or return at once to their own quarters.

The Swedes soon found, however, that it was of no use to resist, and they were forced on board the Danish vessel, and thus conveyed to the king. The tyrant rejoiced that he had Gustavus Vasa, the most dreaded of his enemies in his power, and without taking any heed of his promise, sailed with his booty to Denmark as quickly as he could. The people of Sweden were very sorrowful, and angry too when they knew Gustavus had been thus captured, for his brave conduct and his success had already made them hope that better days were in store for them. Sture also was grieved at Christiern's breach of faith--the more so that he had been too generous to suspect him of such deceit--and only a short time before, when the king had been brought very low by sickness and famine, had sent him succour, and cared for him as if he had been his warmest friend instead of his most bitter foe.