One day while the Comte d’Anjou was at dice with Gautier de Nemours and others King Louis got unsteadily to his feet, tottered across to the gamblers, snatched up dice and boards and flung them into the sea. He then castigated his brother for unseemliness. I think Gautier fared well enough, tipping what was on the table into his lap.
Citizens and clergy welcomed us by the shore amid great rejoicing and there King Louis happily met his queen.
I was offered a palfrey to ride yet no sooner did I mount than I all but fell off. The man who brought the palfrey held me upright. Later he assisted me in climbing steps to the king’s hall where I rested by a window. Ami de Montbéliard’s young bastard, called Barthélemy, stood not far away. He was at that time perhaps ten years old. While I sat there very weak and faint I was approached by a lackey wearing a scarlet tunic with yellow stripes. He bowed and asked if I remembered him. I did not. He said he was Guillemin. He came from the castle of my uncle at Oiselay and being at the moment unattached he would serve me if I wished. I was pleased to engage him, so he combed my hair and found me a white cap.
Now his majesty sent word that I should dine with him. During my imprisonment the Saracens had given me an old coverlet and from this my people fashioned a short tunic. What remained of this cloth I bestowed upon young Barthélemy along with some ells of camlet. My new servant Guillemin accompanied me to carve the meat and he obtained a little food for the child. King Louis with unfailing grace did not comment on my appearance while we ate.
Guillemin quickly proved his worth, finding rooms for me near the baths. That night I went to wash away my prison filth, but while seated in the bath was again overcome by dizziness and do not know how I could have managed without his help. Some few days later, having clothed myself more suitably, I paid a visit to the king who reproached me for my absence, saying he had expected to see me sooner. He commanded me to eat with him morning and evening. He was then much in doubt whether he should stay oversea or go back to France.
Anon the bishop of Acre let me use a dwelling that belonged to a priest, yet I had no more settled myself than fever attacked. To make things worse, beside my bed was an entrance to the church and not a day passed without at least twenty corpses delivered. Thus, feeling sick beyond repair, I lay stretched out on my pallet hearing a constant refrain. Libera me, Domine. Each time I heard this I wept and praised God. I thanked Him for my suffering because I often had succumbed to pride when I lay down to sleep or when I awoke. And I prayed Him to cast off the bonds of my infirmity.
When it seemed I had got back my faculties I asked Guillemin to account for money spent and discovered he had nipped me of ten livres tournois, so I dismissed him. Afterward I was told by certain Burgundians who brought him oversea that he was the most courteous thief in the realm. If a thing was needed, strap or knife or gloves, no matter what, Guillemin would slip out to steal it.
Of a Sunday the king sent for his two brothers and other lords, myself included. He said he had neither peace nor truce with England and the Frankish domain stood in peril. The Queen Mother implores me to return, he said, but many protest that all would be forfeit if I depart. I pray you, then, consider and give me your thoughts. Eight days from this day I would know your counsel.
Guy Mauvoisin spoke on our behalf when we returned to advise his majesty. Sire, in concert your brothers and the high barons have disclosed their thoughts. We believe you cannot stay without prejudice to your honor. Of two thousand eight hundred knights you led to Cyprus no more than one hundred may be found in Acre. Hence it is our judgment that you should depart. In France you will be able to levy troops and money so that you may with good speed return to the Holy Land to avenge yourself on the enemies of God.
When Guy Mauvoisin had finished speaking King Louis addressed himself to individual knights, asking if they agreed. All did, save the count of Joppa who begged to be excused. For, as he explained, his castle stood on the frontier and if he counseled the king to remain it would be whispered that he looked to his own advantage. As it came my turn I told his majesty that I agreed with the count of Joppa. His majesty in very poor temper asked how he might abuse the Saracen with so few knights. I replied that, while I did not know if it were true, people said the king spent revenue from the church but not his own. Therefore, said I, let the king obtain knights from Morea and other parts with his own resources. Knights will arrive in good number if they hear the king pays generously. Thus we may hold the field. And should it please God, we may liberate those despairing captives who must otherwise languish without hope of freedom.
Silence fell when I spoke these words. Not one in that room but had a friend held captive. Many began to weep. The legate asked Marshal Guillaume de Beaumont what he thought and he replied that I had spoken very well. At this Lord Jean de Beaumont, who was his uncle and nourished a great desire to see France again, cried out sharply. The king admonished Lord Jean, saying he should let his nephew speak. Certes, I will not! Lord Jean replied. Guillaume kept silent. Nor did others speak on my behalf, excepting Lord Châtenai. The king said he would reflect upon our advice and tell us by the end of the week what he meant to do.
At supper he bade me sit beside him as he customarily did if his brothers were absent, but throughout the meal he said not a word to me. I thought he must be annoyed so while he was hearing grace I got up and walked to an embrasure near his bed and thrust my arms through the bars of the window. I stood there considering what I might do if he returned to France. I thought I would approach the prince of Antioch, to whom I was related, who had asked me to join him. I would be able to stay there until another expedition came oversea. Then by the grace of God we might deliver those unfortunates from bondage. While I stood there contemplating the future someone leaned against me and put both hands atop my head. Philippe de Nemours had plagued me because of the counsel I offered so I thought it must be he.
Philippe, I said with little grace, I beg you leave me. Feeling vexed, I turned my head. At this a hand slipped across my face and I saw an emerald ring worn by the king of France.
Calm yourself, his majesty said. I want to ask you something. How is it that you, who are young, dare counsel me to stay when the wisest men of France advise me to depart?
I replied that if there had been wickedness in my heart I would not have spoken as I did. He asked if I thought it would be wrong for him to leave. I said I did. If I should stay, he asked, would you also? I answered that I would stay if possible, either at my own expense or at the expense of someone else. Do not trouble yourself on that account, he said, adding that he was well pleased with my advice. And he bade me not speak of our conversation till the week was up.
During that week I heard from Pierre d’Avallon who lived in Tyre, who sent word that I was ridiculed for having urged his majesty to remain. I was mocked as a colt, which is a name given to peasants of that region. Pierre suggested I defend myself by saying it was better to be a colt than a weary draft horse.
Sunday, which was Saint John’s Day, we assembled. King Louis invoked the Holy Spirit by making the sign of the cross upon his mouth, after which he thanked those who had counseled him to return to France as well as those who urged him to remain. Then he said that on no account would he abandon the kingdom of Jerusalem, which he had come to liberate and protect. He said he would offer such generous terms to the nobles and to other knights that if they did not choose to stay in the Holy Land the fault must be their own. At his words some appeared struck dumb with amazement. Others wept.
I now took it upon myself to visit the shrine of Saint James.
Soon after I returned from this pilgrimage his majesty summoned the members of his council and began to complain in a loud voice. My lords, he said, a month has passed and I have not heard of any knights retained in my service. At this meeting, along with myself, were Lord Geoffrey de Sargines, Gilles le Brun whom he had made Constable after Imbert de Beaujeu ascended to glory, and the chamberlain. The others, I think, had set sail. To hi
s majesty’s complaint these nobles replied that all of the knights seemed anxious to go home and thus laid a high price on their service. Who could be got most cheaply? he asked. The lord of Joinville, said they, yet even he insists on quite a lot. So the king turned to me. Seneschal, come here, he said. I went and knelt before him. He bade me take a seat. You know I am fond of you, he said, but people tell me you are difficult. Why is this?
I answered that it was not my fault since I had lost everything while I was held captive on the river. He asked how much I would need. I told him that two hundred thousand livres would keep me till Easter. Then he asked if I had bargained with any of my people. I said I had spoken with a knight-banneret, Pierre de Pontmolain, who demanded four hundred livres, as did two other knights-banneret.
Twelve hundred livres, said the king, reckoning on his fingers.
Do not forget, I said, that horse and armor for myself will cost at least eight hundred. Further, the expense of food must be counted since I doubt you would invite all of us to your table. His majesty after some reflection said he did not consider my demand excessive.
His brothers, the Comte d’Anjou and the Comte de Poitiers, were at that time preparing to depart. If he ordered them to France, mayhap to supervise the realm during his absence, or if he gave permission at their request, I do not know. However it was, both admonished me to watch over the king, saying he put much faith in my judgment. When they were ready to go aboard ship the Comte de Poitiers distributed a number of jewels to those of us who remained. As for the Comte d’Anjou, when it came time to embark he lamented and wept so passionately that all were amazed. Still, he did not change his mind.
Soon thereafter came envoys from the sultan of Damascus seeking his majesty’s help against those emirs who governed Egypt. Turanshah, who plunged into the Nile with a lance dangling from his ribs, was related to this sultan. Now, said the envoys, provided King Louis would help crush these loathsome emirs, the sultan would hand over Jerusalem. His majesty at length decided to respond through envoys of his own. And with them to interpret went Yves le Breton, a predicant friar who spoke Saracenic. And the message to the sultan of Damascus was this. King Louis would by no means ally himself with the sultan until he knew if the emirs would make amends for the outrages they committed.
So off to Egypt went Lord Jean de Valenciennes, charged by his majesty to find out how matters stood. Quicker than expected he came back with two hundred Frankish knights released from captivity as well as lesser folk. Among these knights were a good forty attached to the court of Champagne. I paid to have them fitted with tunics and green surcoats, thinking his majesty would offer them generous terms to serve under his banner. He listened to what they asked, but made no reply. A knight of his council rebuked me, pointing out that King Louis was thick enough in debt. The king, said I, had best not listen to you, considering how knights are in short supply. Having said as much, I burst into tears. His majesty ordered me to keep quiet and said he would give them what they asked. So he engaged them, posting them to my battalion.
Lord Jean also brought back from Egypt the bones of Comte Gautier de Brienne who was cousin to Madame de Saida. She buried them in the church of the Hospital in Acre, causing each knight to offer a wax candle and a silver denier while the king himself offered a candle and a gold bezant, all to the expense of Madame de Saida, which was a very fine thing to do.
However, the message Lord Jean brought from Egypt was not favorable. The emirs would accede to his majesty’s demand for reparation only if he allied himself with them against the sultan of Damascus. His majesty responded that he would not consider an alliance until they sent him the heads of Christians they had suspended from the walls of Cairo. Further, they must give up all the Christian children they seized. And because he yet owed part of his ransom they should dispense with that. So the matter stood unresolved.
Friar Yves le Breton when he got back from Damascus told of a most remarkable sight. While he and the envoys were en route from their lodging to the palace here came an old woman crossing the street with a phial of water in one hand, a chafing dish of coals in the other. Friar Yves asked what she intended to do. With these coals I will burn up Paradise, said she. Next I will quench the fires of Hell, so neither will exist. Why do such a thing? asked Friar Yves. Because, said she, for love of God one ought to live honorably, not in hope of entering Paradise or from dread of Hell.
John the Armenian who had charge of the king’s artillery also went to Damascus, I think to purchase horn and glue for crossbows. While bargaining in the marketplace he was hailed by some very ancient man who inquired if he might be Christian. John agreed he was. A long time past, said this ancient man, I saw King Baudouin of Jerusalem, by which he meant Baldwin the leper. With only three hundred knights, said this old man, King Baudouin defeated Saladin. But now, on account of your wickedness, we take you more easily than cattle in the field. To this John answered that the old man should bite his tongue, considering the wickedness of Saracens.
I have been foolish, the old man said.
How so? asked John.
I will tell you, the old man replied, but first I would ask a question. Have you a son or daughter?
I have a son, John answered.
Which would hurt more deeply? To be struck by a Saracen or by your son?
A blow from my son would hurt deeply, said John.
Now here is my reply, the old man said. Christians think themselves children of God and name themselves after Christ. Your God has given you teachers so you may discern truth from falsehood. That is why He feels hurt more by your sins than by those we commit, since we are ignorant, thinking we may be cleansed of sin by washing our bodies before we die.
Almighty God did not create the world without variety. Therefore pagans as well as Christians may look up to the vault of heaven. Yet if this is true, how can a torrent of darkness issue from their hearts?
During the year 1253 came word that a Mongol prince, Sartuq, had converted to Christianity, which seemed to his majesty providential. He charged two Dominicans, William of Ruybroek and Bartholomew of Cremona, to seek out this Mongol and beseech him to aid fellow Christians in Syria. It had been, I think, four years since two predicant friars departed from Cyprus with a portable chapel for the great khan, yet never a word from Asia. We could but hope and speculate that somewhere these emissaries of truth should meet.
Also, during this time at Acre we heard from the Old Man of the Mountain. Here came deputies, a pleasing emir handsomely dressed, followed by two youthful Assassins. One youth carried three knives so cleverly wrought that the blade of one fitted snugly to the handle of the next, a gift for King Louis if the emir’s reception proved less than cordial. Around one arm of the other was a roll of linen, a winding sheet in case his majesty disdained the overture.
After his majesty heard mass he received these deputies and wished to know why they had come, whereupon the emir presented letters of credence. My lord sends me to ask if you are acquainted, said he.
King Louis replied that he did not know the Old Man, but had heard about him.
Then I am surprised, the emir said. For if you have heard about him I should think you would send him large amounts of money to be assured of his friendship, just as the king of Hungary and the sultan of Cairo and others pay tribute year after year. But if you are unable to do this my lord will relieve you of the obligation, provided you relieve him of his obligation to the Temple and to the Hospital.
These two orders were much feared by the Assassins.
King Louis replied that he would see the emir that afternoon. When the emir came back he found King Louis seated between the Master of the Temple and the Master of the Hospital. The king asked him to repeat what he had said that morning. He refused. At this both Masters commanded him to speak, which he did. Then he was told in Saracenic to come and speak with them privately at the Hospital. There he was told that he had behaved rashly by delivering an insolent message and they would drown
him in the putrid sea of Acre except that doing so would cast a shadow on the king. They told him he should go back to the Old Man but return in a fortnight bearing a letter of apology and such gifts and jewels as might appease the king’s wrath.
These deputies returned in less than a fortnight. They brought the Old Man’s shirt and a conciliatory message. As the shirt clings to the body, so does the Old Man cling to his love for the great King Louis.
Nor was this all. They tendered his ring, made of excellent gold, which had his name engraved, indicating close alliance, declaring his wish that henceforth they should be united as though espoused. They brought jewelry, crystal giraffes, crystal elephants, divers crystal fruits, gaming boards, and chess tables deftly inlaid with stone flowers. These all were embowered in ambergris, causing a fragrant odor to pervade the room. King Louis thought to reciprocate with equivalent riches and by way of these deputies sent lengths of scarlet cloth, gold cups, jewels, silver horse snaffles, and other magnificent things. And he charged Friar Yves le Breton to go with these deputies and find out what he could.
Friar Yves got back safely to Acre, albeit not many expected him to. He reported that Assassins follow the teaching of Mahomet’s uncle, Ali, which none of us had known. We were informed that Ali raised his nephew to high estate, but instead of feeling grateful Mahomet despised and denigrated his uncle and proposed a different faith. Hence, Muslims who obey the teaching of Mahomet call the disciples of Ali misguided, whereas those who accept the latter call the former insurgent, much as we think Christian Greeks insurgent. Friar Yves explained that Assassins do not fear death because they think the soul of a man who dies serving his lord will be rewarded with a more attractive body.
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