Part 23

Soon after this episode fresh trouble arose between Richard and Philip. The King of France was brother to Alice, the betrothed bride of Richard. When he heard that Queen Eleanor was on her way to Sicily, bringing Berengaria, daughter of the King of Navarre, as a bride for the English king, Philip was enraged. He insisted that Richard was legally bound to Alice and could not marry any one else. Richard, who had been much charmed with Berengaria some years before while visiting her father's court at Pampeluna, now flatly refused to marry Alice. He accused her of most wicked conduct, such as rendered her unworthy to be his wife. Probably these charges were well founded, for Philip finally agreed, on certain conditions, to release Richard from the engagement with Alice. The French princess, then held prisoner in England by Eleanor, was to be returned to France, and Philip was to receive a large sum of money. An ecclesiastical court was then held, and it adjudged that Richard was no longer bound to Alice, but was free to marry as he pleased.

These matters settled, Philip set sail for Palestine on the very day that Eleanor arrived with Berengaria. The two royal ladies received a joyful welcome from the king, who went to meet them in his gayly decorated galley, Trenc-le-Mer.

He found Berengaria even lovelier than the young girl he had admired so long ago in Navarre. His heart yielded at once to the charms of the dark-eyed Spanish beauty, and the princess could not help loving such a handsome, brave, and eloquent prince; for Richard was no less ready with his tongue than with his sword, and won hearts as easily as battles. He had long before won the devotion and friendship of Berengaria's brother Sancho, a renowned warrior and poet; and this friendship doubtless commended him to Berengaria. At any rate, the betrothed pair were soon a pair of lovers and as happy as humbler sweethearts.

As it was then the solemn season of Lent, they resolved to postpone the wedding until after Easter. Richard, however, in token of his joy, gave a sumptuous betrothal feast, at which he instituted a new order of knights, vowed to deeds of valor in the Holy Land. Queen Eleanor, after remaining a few days with her dearly loved daughter and son, gave Berengaria into the care of Queen Joan, and herself returned to England.

Richard then made final preparations for the voyage. Before leaving, he gave Tancred, to whom he had become reconciled, "that best of swords, which the Britons call Caliburne (Excalibur), formerly the sword of Arthur, once the noble King of England."

At length the great fleet of busses, dromonds, and galleys set sail for Palestine. Berengaria and Joan sailed first in a large ship under the care of Stephen de Turnham, and Richard embarked last on Trenc-le-Mer. Erelong a storm arose, and the fleet was dispersed. Berengaria was very much alarmed for her lover's safety.

"She sighed not for her own, But King Richard's safety; And kept crying, 'Oh! look out, For sore is my fright, Whilst the King and his galleys Are all out of sight!'"

Two ships escorting the vessel of the princess and Joan were wrecked on the coast of Cyprus. Isaac, the emperor of that island, plundered the ships and imprisoned the survivors. He also refused to allow the vessel of the royal ladies to take shelter in the harbor of Limasol (now Limoussa).

Meanwhile, Richard's galley had taken shelter at Rhodes. As soon as the king learned of the straits in which the princesses were, he came to their aid with many war galleys. When he found them outside of the harbor, exposed to the violence of wind and sea, he was greatly enraged. But restraining his anger fairly well for so passionate a man, he sent messengers thrice to Isaac, "humbly begging him for the love of God and reverence for the life-giving cross" to free the captive Crusaders, and to restore their goods. The emperor, evidently not knowing with whom he had to deal, returned a haughty refusal.

Then Richard, very wroth, called his men to arms, and said: "Follow me, and we will take vengeance for the wrongs which this villainous emperor has done to God and to us in thus unjustly keeping our pilgrims in chains!" Without delay the forces rowed to the shore, where Isaac had drawn up his army to oppose them.

The English archers landed first, and their arrows fell upon the enemy "as a shower upon the grass." The doughty King Richard and his knights then rushed in, and quickly drove the Greeks before them like a flock of sheep. After Isaac's affrighted army had taken refuge in the mountains, he tried to make peace, but could come to no agreement with Richard, and fled from Limasol. The English king then stormed the town and took possession. Here he first used his famous battle-axe, for the old rhymer tells us:--

"The valiant King Richard, as I understand, Before he departed from old England, Made an axe to slaughter that infidel band, The Saracen dogs in the Holy Land. The head in sooth was wondrously wrought, Of steel twenty pounds, the best to be bought. And when that he landed in Cyprus land, He first took this terrible axe in hand; And he hewed and he hewed with such direful slaughter, That the blood flowed around him like pools of water."

With such a valiant leader, it is small wonder that the English were soon masters of the whole island of Cyprus. Isaac, after making a treaty with Richard and immediately breaking it, was captured by the English king, who bound him with silver fetters, kept him in prison, and gave his beautiful daughter to Berengaria as an attendant.

Ere this, Richard and Berengaria had been married with pomp and ceremony at Limasol, and crowned king and queen of Cyprus. The bride was simply attired in a white lawn dress, but wore a splendid girdle of jewels; and her flowing black tresses were adorned with a double crown. Richard wore a rose-colored tunic of satin, belted with jewels. A mantle of silk tissue, brocaded in silver crescents, fell from his shoulders, and on his head was a scarlet brocaded cap. By his side hung a Damascus blade in a silver-scaled sheath. Before the king was led his beautiful Cyprian steed, Favelle, gorgeously caparisoned, and bitted with gold, the saddle adorned with two little golden lions.

Not long after this grand ceremony, word came to Richard that Acre, a city of Palestine long besieged by the Crusaders already in the Holy Land, was about to surrender. Exclaiming, "Heaven grant that it be not taken before I arrive!" Richard immediately set sail for that port.

When near Beyrout, the English fell in with a large Saracen ship, and after a desperate but vain attempt to board the vessel, pierced its sides with the iron beaks of their galleys. The ship sank, and its crew were slain or drowned. Among the floating bodies that covered the sea, were seen many deadly serpents, which the infidels "had destined to work havoc among the Christians" besieging Acre.

Cheered by this victory, Richard and his men rejoiced still more when the walls and citadels and the great "accursed tower" of Acre came in sight. For long months this famous city, its walls lapped by the blue Mediterranean, had been girt round by a vast host of Crusaders,--"men of every Christian nation under heaven." Their camp was like an immense city, with streets and walls, and strong fortifications, especially on the landward side; for beyond this vast Christian camp, crowned by the high tower from which floated the great white banner of the Crusaders, lay a countless body of Turkish troops, swarming over the adjacent plains and mountain-sides. Thus the besieging Christians were themselves besieged.

The tents of the infidels were gay with colored devices and the yellow ensigns of Islam. As Richard neared the shore, these hated emblems of Mohammed and the famous black standard of Saladin, Sultan of the Saracens, were plainly visible to him, and stirred him to deep wrath. His anger burned the hotter when he recalled the stories told of the terrible havoc wrought by these infidels on the Christian hosts besieging the city. Night and day these fierce warriors of Saladin swooped down on the Christian camp. Scores of bloody battles had taken place. Almost beyond belief was the suffering that had been patiently endured by the soldiers of the Cross. Battles, hunger, and disease had thinned their ranks and sorely tried their souls. No wonder they hailed with joy the arrival of that famous warrior, Richard Coeur-de-Lion, for they believed that he would soon lead them to victory.

So amidst the din of drum and trumpet and clarion, and the deafening shouts of exultant thousands, King Richard set foot upon the Holy Land. And the red glare of huge bonfires and numberless torches carried the alarming tidings to Saladin and his army.

The King of France and the many princes met Richard, and welcomed him in a manner befitting his rank and his renown as the "most skilful warrior among Christian men." The camp was that night a scene of rejoicing and merriment. "Richard Coeur-de-Lion has come; Acre will soon be ours!" was the universal cry.

But, alas! the hopes built on the arrival of Coeur-de-Lion were not speedily realized. Richard fell ill of a fever, and could not lead the assault. Then Philip also became sick; so that the two kings could not lead their armies against the city at the same time. The feeling of jealousy between them also prevented united action. When one king undertook an assault, the other sulked in his tent. All the princes and leaders were at this time disputing about the rival claims of Guy de Lusignan and Conrade, Marquis of Montferrat, to the throne of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Philip favored the Marquis of Montferrat, but Richard supported Guy de Lusignan. These disputes were made more bitter by the haughty bearing of the King of England, who wished to rule in camp and council, and treated with scant courtesy the princes who presumed to oppose him. So discord reigned among the leaders, and prevented the united action that might soon have reduced the city.

Nevertheless, the fighting went vigorously on. Battle after battle was fought on the plain between the forces of Saladin and the Crusaders; assault after assault was made by the Christians on the beleaguered city.

Even during his illness, Richard had directed the making of stone-casters, slings, rams, and wooden towers for assaulting the walls of the besieged city. As soon as he was well enough, the king caused himself to be carried near the city wall and placed under the shelter of a kind of wooden hurdle. Seated there, he directed the movements of his men, who were endeavoring to undermine and carry by storm a tower of the fortifications.

As his soldiers rushed to the assault, Richard shouted that he would give three goldpieces to every man who should detach a stone from the tower wall. So the hope of reward, as well as the love of glory, led to deeds of reckless daring. While some soldiers dug underground, trying to sap the tower foundations, others plied the stone-casters and hurled immense stones into the city,--at one time killing twenty Turks with a single huge missile. Other bands of Christians strove to tear down or scale the walls; while the Turks, equally valiant, strained every nerve to hurl them back. The Christians "climbed the half-ruined battlements as wild goats climb precipitous rocks, while the Saracens threw themselves on the besiegers like stones unloosed from the top of a mountain." Huge stones and Greek fire rained down on the Crusaders.

Meanwhile King Richard, weak though he was, plied his great cross-bow vigorously and slew many Turks. One of the infidels was disporting himself on the wall, clad in the well-known armor of Alberic Clement,--a renowned and beloved Christian warrior, slain several days before by the Turks, after he had fought his way into the city itself. Richard sent a shaft through the very heart of this braggart Turk.

Now, when the tower had been almost battered down, other warriors from the Christian camp gathered to the assault; but the watchers on the city wall raised a cry of alarm, and all the Turkish warriors flew to arms. Then followed a fierce hand-to-hand conflict. In spite of most heroic efforts, the Crusaders were finally driven back. "Never," says the Christian chronicler, "has there been such a people for prowess in battle as these Turks."

Though wroth at this repulse, Richard continued to make frequent attacks of the same sort, and kept his stone-casters and other engines of war busy night and day until the defences of the city were much weakened. The inhabitants, disheartened also by famine and other hardships, finally sent envoys to Saladin, requesting permission to surrender the city. After much parley about conditions, the city capitulated, and the two Christian kings took possession. Soon the red-cross standard of the Crusade, the oriflamme of Saint Denis, and the banner of Saint George crowned the walls of Acre. The standard of Austria was also raised by the Archduke Leopold; but not long did it wave. The haughty Coeur-de-Lion flew into a rage on seeing the ensign of a mere duke flying beside the banners of kings. With his own royal hands he tore down the offending flag, and contemptuously ground it beneath his royal heel. Nor did the outraged archduke dare to resent the insult, though he cherished the memory of it in his heart, and well avenged himself at a later day.

The kings of France and England divided the city between them. Philip lodged himself in the splendid palace of the Templars,--a military order of Christian knights; and Richard established his court in the royal palace, with the two queens, Berengaria and Joan, and their ladies. Here for some time the kings lived in luxury and splendor, while all the Crusaders took their ease and rested from warfare.