As if we had not trouble enough, the Saracens anchored galleys between our camp and Damietta so that no one dared sail up the river with provisions. We knew nothing of this and were puzzled until a ship belonging to the Comte de Flandre by good luck slipped the blockade. We then learned something else. Several of our galleys had been captured as they came upriver and all aboard murdered. Thus our supplies dwindled and we had no idea what to do. His majesty after consultation with the barons said we must retreat downstream. Yet as we began to make preparations these Babylonians gave us no rest. They used every means to find out our condition, being especially anxious to take prisoners. One of them who was a very powerful swimmer scooped out a melon and fitted this over his head. Then he swam slowly past our camp and a sergeant leapt into the Nile to seize the melon. But the Egyptian caught hold of him and carried him off. We did not see him again.
Our situation growing more perilous by the day, we thought to arrange a truce. We proposed this agreement. If we might have the kingdom of Jerusalem we would surrender Damietta. The sultan should look after Christians in Damietta who were too sick to travel and he would not destroy the salt meat we had stored. He might hold all property belonging to us until it could be retrieved. Such terms seemed reasonable to us. Emissaries from the sultan wished to know what security we would give. We offered to leave as hostage either of his majesty’s brothers, the Comte d’Anjou or the Comte de Poitiers. But the emissaries said they would come to no agreement unless King Louis himself were left as pledge. Upon hearing this, Lord Geoffrey de Sargines declared he would sooner these misbelievers finished us or took us captive than be reproached throughout eternity for having pawned our king.
While we debated these terms, beseeching God for wisdom, more of our people sickened, racked by wasting of the gums so they could not chew or swallow. Barbers cut away the rotted flesh. While this was done one could hear pitiful moans as though women in labor cried out.
Now it was evident that we should die if we remained at this place. Common lackeys wore breastplates and stood guard because so many knights and sergeants lay ill or had given up the ghost. Therefore his majesty decided to strike camp on Tuesday after the octave of Easter and retrace the Nile to Damietta. Sick and wounded should go aboard galleys. At this time his majesty was gravely weakened by flux. I do not know how often he fainted. He appeared pale unto death. More than once he had been lifted from his mount and the seat of his drawers snipped open, his bowel a putrid stream. Those attending him could scarcely draw breath on account of the stench. Yet he would not board a galley to escape. Please God, he said, he would not desert his people.
Late in the afternoon I embarked with two knights and my servants, expecting to go downstream on the current. But our mariners objected. The sultan’s galleys are between us and Damietta, they said, so we will be caught and put to death. While I argued with them I saw the Babylonians approach. We had lighted fires in camp to attract the sick or wounded and now as it grew dark I could see the heartless pagans murdering these unfortunates by firelight. When my sailors observed this it occurred to them we might be better off anyplace else and quickly weighed anchor. Next we heard men shout from the bank ordering us to wait for the king, and they let fly bolts from crossbows. So we held up. But then, I do not know why, they told us to continue.
About sunrise we came in view of the sultan’s galleys and could see all around them Christian vessels that had been captured. Egyptians were stealing property and murdering people and throwing bodies overboard. We were noticed by mounted Saracens on the bank who began discharging arrows tipped with Greek fire that dropped from the sky like comets. I was given a jousting hauberk to wear for protection. But now I learned the crew wanted to set me ashore, hoping thereby to save themselves. I got one of my men to lift me up by the arms since I felt very weak and with sword in hand told the crew if they pulled over to the bank I would kill them. We argued some time, they behaving with utmost insolence. Shortly after this here came four Egyptian galleys pulling toward us with at least one thousand men aboard. I thought we might surrender to those ashore or to those on the galleys but we could not by any means reach Damietta. I consulted my knights. We agreed that if we surrendered to those on land we would be separated and sold to Bedouin, whereas if we gave ourselves up to the sultan’s galleys we might stay together. Yet one of my people, a steward from Doulevant, began to complain. When I asked what he thought we should do he replied that we should let ourselves be killed so we might ascend to Paradise. However, no one else liked this idea. Realizing that we must forfeit our liberty, I gathered up my jewels and holy relics and tossed them in the water.
One of the crew asked if I would permit them to say I was his majesty’s cousin. For if you do not, he explained, they will certainly butcher all of us, including yourself. He seemed convinced of this. I did not know what good it might do, but told him to say whatever he pleased. He therefore took it upon himself to make this announcement. When the closest galley was about to ram us and send us to the bottom he shouted that I was blood relative to King Louis. And they, instead of splintering our craft, dropped anchor alongside.
Almost at once a Saracen clad in linen breeches came swimming toward us. Later I found out he could speak more than one language because the emperor of Germany governed the place of his birth. No sooner did he climb up on our ship than he grasped me about the waist and said I must act quickly or I was lost. He explained that Egyptians swarming aboard were looking for plunder and would not at first notice me so I must jump on the galley. With God’s help I managed to do as he instructed but would have fallen back into the river if he had not leapt after me. He kept his arms about me when I was flung to the deck, even as I felt a knife at my throat. He cried out again and again that I was the king’s relative. Why he chose to endanger his life for my sake I do not know. In any event, I was led to a castle aboard the galley where Saracen knights were housed. They took off my hauberk and gave me a scarlet wrap lined with miniver that in fact belonged to me, having been a gift from my mother, and a hood to cover my head. A fit of trembling overcame me on account of my illness and because I was terrified. I asked for a drink so they fetched a jug. However, I could not swallow. The water came spurting out my nostrils. I asked to speak with my people and when they appeared I told them I was dying. They asked why I thought so and I replied that I had a growth in my throat, which I showed them. They began to weep. The Saracens asked the man who had saved me what was wrong. He told them I could not hope to recover because of this growth. But one of them said he would give me a potion that would cure me in two days, which is what happened.
The emir in charge of this galley asked if I was indeed related to King Louis. I answered that I was not and I explained the situation. He said I had been shrewdly advised, otherwise I would have lost my head. He also inquired if I might be related to the emperor of Germany. I answered that I believed my mother was a cousin, which was true, and he seemed gratified.
While we were dining together he had a citizen of Paris brought to the table and this man noticed with astonishment that I was eating meat. My lord, he exclaimed, what are you doing? Well, said I, what do you think I am doing? In God’s name, said he, it is Friday! I had not been aware of this so I put the bowl aside. The emir asked my savior why I had pushed away the meat, and being told the reason said he doubted God would hold this against me.
One of my people, Raoul de Wanou, had been hamstrung during the battle on Shrove Tuesday and there was aboard the galley an old Saracen knight who carried Raoul on his back to the latrine whenever necessary, a little act of kindness at which I never ceased to wonder. It may be there exists some universal understanding of the mind.
Those taken captive were put ashore near Mansourah. My good priest Jean fainted while being led from the hold so they killed him and threw his body in the Nile. His cleric also fainted because of sickness. He too was murdered, the corpse tossed overboard. Saracens with drawn swords watched us, prepared to kill a
ny who fell and could not get up. I protested to the emir that I thought this very wrong, contrary to the teaching of Saladin who said one does not kill a man after sharing bread and salt with him. The emir replied that those too feeble to help themselves were unimportant. He brought forth my crew, assembling them in front of me, and said every one had renounced the Christian faith. I said he should not trust them, since as quickly as they renounced our Lord, just as quickly would they renounce Islam. He admitted this was true, for as Saladin observed, never did a good Christian make a good Saracen, nor vice versa.
I was given a palfrey to ride and traveled with the emir. We crossed a bridge constructed of boats and presently got to Mansourah. Scribes at the entrance to a pavilion took down my name. And here the courageous infidel who saved my life, who translated for me, who befriended me, explained that he could not go any further. He advised me to keep hold of the hand of a boy who accompanied us, otherwise the child would be taken away. This was Ami de Montbéliard’s bastard son.
When my name had been inscribed the emir led me to a pavilion where the barons were held, along with thousands of captive knights and sergeants. The barons exclaimed because they thought I was lost. After some time the principals among us were led to a different enclosure. What happened to the knights and sergeants I did not find out until later. One by one they were asked if they abjured Christianity. If not, their heads were lopped off.
The sultan’s counselors came to speak with us, accompanied by dragomen, which is to say, men who could interpret. Since we had appointed Comte Pierre de Bretagne to speak on our behalf, they addressed their questions to him. My lord, said they, the sultan inquires if you wish to obtain deliverance. If so, what are you prepared to give? Lord Pierre responded that we would give whatever we could, provided it seemed reasonable. Would you give, said they, any castles belonging to the barons of Outremer? Lord Pierre answered that he held no jurisdiction over these. Then, said they, would you give castles of the Temple or the Hospital? This could not be done, said he, for the castellans of such fellowships have sworn on holy relics that they will not give up the castles to procure any man’s freedom. Then, said they, if we had no wish to be delivered they would let soldiers play games with our heads. Having said as much, they departed.
Straightway into the enclosure came a horde of young infidels with drawn swords and a little old man leaning on a crutch who had a long beard and white hair. They said he was one of their holiest men and he wished to question us. Was it true that we believed in a God who was put to death on our behalf, who came back to life? That is true, we said. Then, said he, we should not mislike our persecution considering that we had yet to die for him as he had died for us. And if our God had strength enough to lift himself out of the grave, most certainly would he be able to deliver us. With that he took leave and the crowd of young soldiers as well, which relieved us beyond words.
Presently we were told that King Louis had negotiated ransom. Baudouin d’Ibelin, Guy d’Ibelin, Jean de Valéry, and Philippe de Montfort went to learn the conditions. Very much that we had not known was made clear when they returned. Muslim counselors had approached his majesty as they approached us, to find out if he would give up castles belonging to the Templars or Hospitalers or to the barons of Outremer. His majesty replied as we replied. They threatened him. They vowed to place him in the bernicle, which is a cruel method of torture. Two lengths of wood notched with teeth are bound together with oxhide straps and they put a man’s legs inside these jaws and pile weight on top until the bone is crushed. After three days the legs are red as a crab so they put him in the bernicle again and again crush the bone. King Louis responded to this threat by saying he was their captive and they might do as they wished.
When they found out they could not intimidate his majesty they demanded to know what he would pay for his deliverance and if he would give up Damietta. He replied that if the sultan would accept a fair amount he would advertise his consort Queen Marguerite to levy it. They asked why the king himself did not guarantee ransom, to which he answered that Queen Marguerite was mistress of herself.
Now they conferred with Turanshah who had returned from Syria and became sultan after his father’s death. Turanshah set a price of one million gold bezants, which is to say half a million French livres. King Louis agreed to this in exchange for the release of his people. And he agreed to surrender Damietta in exchange for his own release, since it would be inappropriate for one of his rank to purchase freedom with money. Then the king’s brothers visited Sultan Turanshah to receive his oath and a truce of ten years was proclaimed.
When last I saw his majesty on Tuesday after the octave of Easter he looked near death. I was told that next day while he stood leaning against his saddle those around him separately and then in unison urged him to embark on the river in hope of escaping, but again he refused. Then his brother, the Comte d’Anjou, admonished him. Sire, you do no one good service by scorning us, for by waiting on you because of your infirmity the march is delayed. By refusing to take ship you do endanger us to the last man. At these words the king turned wrathfully on his brother. If I am a burden to you, he said, be rid of me. But I will not rid myself of my people.
Thus he was taken captive. He had ridden with Geoffrey de Sargines to the rear guard and was riding a stout little cob with silk housing but grew very weak. Lord Geoffrey took him to a nearby hamlet. He was carried more dead than alive into the house of a woman who by chance had been born in Paris. None thought he could live till sunrise. His teeth clattered, his skin like a winding sheet, flux having drained his body so every bone poked out. With him at this extremity was a single attendant, Isambart, the rest having succumbed to disease. Isambart cooked for his majesty and baked bread, dressed and undressed him, carried him outside to void his bowel. According to what Isambart later said, King Louis endured each humiliation with noble patience and was steadily at prayer.
During the illness he was protected by a most courageous knight, Gautier de Châtillon. There was but one road through this hamlet and if enemies appeared either way the knight would charge furiously. I was informed by Jean Fouinon that as he himself was led captive to Mansourah he noticed a Turk riding Gautier’s horse, the crupper smeared with blood. Jean inquired how the Turk came by it and was told that he had cut the owner’s throat.
I learnt also what happened to Jacques de Castel, bishop of Soissons. When he saw our people in retreat he rode forth by himself against these villains and was slashed to death. I believe he had no wish to see France again. The saintly man had but one desire, which was to be with God. Beyond doubt he joined an illustrious company of martyrs.
At this time his majesty’s consort Queen Marguerite lay abed in Damietta prepared to give birth. Three days before the event she learnt of our defeat. Then she summoned a venerable knight of eighty who by custom slept at the foot of her bed, for it appeared that Egyptians would take the city. By the troth you have plighted, said Queen Marguerite, if Saracens enter Damietta I beg you to grant my wish. When they come for me you must cut off my head. My Lady, responded this good old knight, be assured. Already I had decided they should never take you.
No more was she delivered of a son, Jean, called Jean Tristram owing to the sadness of those days, when she found out that merchants from Pisa and Genoa and other cities were making ready to depart. She summoned the most influential merchants and beseeched them to have pity, if not upon her, then upon the weak creature at her breast. How should we stay? they answered. We are dying of hunger. The queen replied that she would purchase food at the king’s expense to keep them all from starvation. And they, smelling profit, informed her majesty that they would remain. Thus do men consummate their office.
King Louis knew nothing of such matters while he languished near death in a house menaced by the sultan’s army. Philippe de Montfort arrived to say he had talked with an emir concerning a truce and if the king so wished he would again consult the emir. Through negotiation they might agree on
terms. King Louis said he was willing. Some agreement was reached, whereupon the emir pulled off his turban and a ring from his finger to signify that it would be honored. But all at once a sergeant rode around camp shouting that the king had surrendered. It may be that terror stripped his wits or Egyptians bribed him to do what he did. However this came about, our people laid aside their weapons. Now the emir told Lord Philippe there would be no truce because already we were surrendering. Hence the army was rounded up, all taken captive. Was this the will of God? If so, how mightily we must have sinned. I think we were not far from that place where Sultan al-Kamil nearly drowned King John and his army in the year of our Lord 1221.
Muslim chronicles relate that when Turanshah knew we were defeated he camped along the Nile and devoted himself to lechery. Being anxious to acquaint the world with his triumph he wrote to Emir Djemal Edden who was governor of Damascus, claiming in this letter to have slaughtered thirty thousand Christians, apart from those who leapt into the river, apart from innumerable prisoners slain whose bodies joined the current. And like some noisy ass Turanshah brayed how the king of the Franks implored clemency. Further, Turanshah sent to Damascus his majesty’s cap, which was scarlet and lined with soft fur. They say the governor decided to wear this cap while reading Turanshah’s letter in public. Also, a Muslim poet wrote a verse declaring the cap of the Frank to be white as paper, which changed to red when dyed with Christian blood by the sword of Islam.
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