Boy Crusaders: A Story of the Days of Louis IX.
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CHAPTER XXI
THE CARNAGE OF MANSOURAH.
IT was still early morning, and King Louis was still on the Damiettaside of the Achmoun, when the Count of Artois, the Earl of Salisbury,and the Grand Masters of the Temple and the Hospital, found themselvesvictors in the camp.
'Now, gentlemen,' said the Count of Artois, 'let us forward, andcomplete the rout of our foes while affairs prosper in our hands andthey are in dismay. Speed will now avail more than strength; and thefewer we are the greater will be the honour of a victory. Forward then,and crush them at a blow!'
'Forward!' shouted the old deaf knight, who held the count's rein.'Hurrah! hurrah! Upon them! upon them!'
But the count's companions hesitated, and exchanged glances of alarm.
'Noble prince,' said the Master of the Temple, after a pause, 'I giveall praise to your valour; but I entreat you to be advised, and not toact rashly. Our men are weary; our horses are wounded; we are few innumber; and we must not overvalue our victory, or suppose our enemiesare vanquished because they have lost a handful of men. Let us,therefore, return to the king, that we may be strengthened by hiscounsel and aid.'
'In truth,' said the Grand Master of the Hospital, 'we should befoolhardy to attempt aught rashly. We are in a strange country; and ourbest instructors are behind. Let us stay for our lantern and not goforward in the dark.'
'Ah!' exclaimed the Count of Artois, swelling with pride and anger,'this is ever the way with military monks. But for the treachery of theTemplars, and the sedition of the Hospitallers, the Holy Land would longsince have been won.'
'Noble count,' said the Grand Master of the Temple, reproachfully, 'youdo us grievous wrong. Why should we take the habit of religion, and passour lives in a foreign land amid perils and fatigues? Is it, think you,to overthrow the Church and betray the cause of Christ, that we abandonour homes and kindred? However,' added the Grand Master, waxing wrath,'let us forward, in God's name, and try all together the fortunes ofbattle. Standard-bearer, unfurl the banner of the Temple. Ha!Beau-seant! Beau-seant!'
At this moment the Earl of Salisbury made an effort to save his comradesfrom the destruction on which they were about to rush.
'My lord,' said he, addressing the Count of Artois, 'I implore you tolisten to the wholesome counsel of the grand masters. They have beenlong in this country, and learned by experience the craft as well as thestrength of our foes. We, being strangers, are ignorant of the perils;but we know that, as far as the east is from the west, so far are myways different from the ways of the Orientals.'
'Hearken to this Englishman!' exclaimed the count, scornfully. 'Whatcowardice there is in these English! But their timid counsel suits notus. Happy should I be if the Christian army were purged of the Englishtails!'
A flush of rage crimsoned the earl's bronzed cheek, and his eye flashedfire.
'Now, by my father's sword!' cried he, striving to be calm, though heliterally quivered with indignation, 'this passes human patience! Ho!there, Lord Robert de Vere, raise my banner; and you, Count of Artois,lead on, and see if the danger of death hinders us from following. Thetouchstone must try which is gold and which is brass; and I swear, bygood St. George, as I put on my helmet, that the English knights whomyou have taunted with cowardice will this day penetrate farther in theranks of our foes than any warrior of France--be he prince orpaladin--will venture to do.'
And the dispute having there been terminated, the Count of Artois andhis Crusaders put on their helmets and mounted their horses. At thatmoment the eye of Salisbury alighted on Walter Espec; and hiscountenance, which had expressed the most scornful indignation, suddenlychanged, and expressed something like pity.
'Boy,' said he, in a low, kindly tone, 'fall back and wait for theFrench king. We are rushing on certain death; and you are too young todie.'
'Nay, my good lord,' replied Walter, calmly. 'A man, whether young orold, can die but once: I would rather fall fighting in the cause of ourRedeemer, and under your banner, than in a less holy cause and in meanercompany.'
'As you will,' said the earl. 'It shall never be told that I preventedknight or squire from dying the death of a martyr.'
'By the might of Mary! Master Espec,' whispered Bisset; the Englishknight, 'were I your age, and had my choice, certes, I should thinktwice ere hazarding life against such odds. Wherefore should you fall avictim to the madness of my Lord of Artois, or the pride of my Lord ofSalisbury?'
'On my faith, I know not,' answered Walter, smiling. 'But this I doknow, that a man can die but once, and that a Christian warrior whofalls with the Cross on his shoulder is understood to win the crown ofmartyrdom.'
'Nevertheless, were I you, and of your years,' argued Bisset; 'I shouldlittle relish the notion of being killed; for, as the Saracens say, whenman dies there is no hope of his living again; because, as they addtruly, man is not a water-melon; when once in the ground he cannot growagain.'
By this time French and Templars and Hospitallers and English weremounted; and, without further argument, they dashed towards Mansourah.At first they encountered no obstacle; and, while the inhabitants fledin terror along the road to Cairo, the Count of Artois and hiscompanions, after destroying one of the gates, so as to secure egressif necessary, penetrated into the city, carrying all before them; and,reaching the palace of the sultan, they commenced the work of pillage.But during this process they were rudely interrupted; for BibarsBendocdar perceived the imprudence of which the Crusaders had beenguilty, and suddenly, at the head of a Saracen army, appeared to givethem battle.
And now the Crusaders were in a fearful predicament. Ere they had timeto rally, they were fiercely attacked. From the roofs and windows of thehouses around, the Saracens hurled stones, and poured heated sand andboiling water. Before them were the Mamelukes, headed by BibarsBendocdar, fiery with fanaticism, and panting for blood. It was aterrible situation even for brave men; and the very bravest there felt athrill of awe and terror.
'All is lost!' said Salisbury, in a whisper.
'The King of France may hear of our peril, and come to our rescue,'suggested Lord Robert de Vere.
'No hope of succour,' said Bisset, in a conclusive tone. 'But let us notdroop. We can at least sell our lives dearly.'
A brief and painful silence succeeded, while still upon the Crusadersthe Saracens hurled stones and poured boiling water.
'Englishmen and friends,' at length said Salisbury, raising his voice soas to be heard at a distance, 'it were vain at this moment to deny ourperil. But take courage, my brave companions; and let us not faint inthe hour of adversity. Everything, save dishonour, may be borne byvaliant men; and adversity sheds a light upon the virtues of mankind, assurely as prosperity casts over them a shade. Here there is no room forretreat; for our enemies encompass us about; and to attempt to fly wouldbe certain death. Be of good cheer, then, and let the urgency of thecase sharpen your valour and nerve your arms. Brave men should eitherconquer nobly, or die with glory; and martyrdom is a boon which weshould accept without reluctance. But, before we fall, let us, while welive, do what may avenge our deaths; and, while giving thanks to Godthat it is our lot to die as martyrs, let us, in our last efforts ofvalour and despair, prove ourselves worthy soldiers of the Cross.'
'Earl William,' said the Count of Artois, riding up, and now consciousof his folly, 'God fights against us. Resistance is vain, but escape ispossible. Let us consult our safety, and fly while yet our horses cancarry us.'
'Fly if you will!' answered the earl, scornfully; 'but God forbid thatany but liars should ever have it in their power to tell that myfather's son fled from the face of a Saracen.'
And now the heavens and the earth seemed to resound with the noise ofhorns and enormous kettle-drums; and, urged on by Bibars Bendocdar, theSaracens rushed upon their enemies. The plight of the Crusaders wasdesperate. 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 ofArtois. But fearful in the meantime was the carnage. Full fifteenhundred knights had fallen; and of these, three hundred were of theorder of the Temple. Gradually the numbers diminished, till thereremained not a dozen of the men who had that morning invaded Fakreddin'scamp; and among these were the Earl of Salisbury, Lord Robert de Vere,the Grand Masters of the Temple and the Hospital, Bisset the Englishknight, and Walter Espec, still unwounded, and fighting as if he bore acharmed life, and felt invulnerable to javelins or arrows.
But all possibility of continuing to resist was now at an end, and everyhope of succour had vanished. Salisbury, resolved to sell his lifedearly, faced the Saracens with desperate valour, and used hisbattle-axe with such effect that a hundred Saracens are said to havefallen 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, hefell covered with wounds. Robert de Vere, already bleeding andexhausted, no sooner saw Salisbury sink than he wrapped the Englishstandard round his body, and lay down to die by the great earl's side.Bisset, Walter Espec, and the two grand masters, found themselvessurrounded by a host of foes, and defending themselves desperatelyagainst every species of assailant.
'Alas!' exclaimed the grand masters of the Temple, 'we are clearlydoomed.'
'I would fain hope not,' answered Bisset, resolutely. 'Our weapons arenot 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 downopposition, the four survivors made a stern endeavour to reach thegate,--the axe of Bisset and the swords of the military monks doingterrible execution. Twice the Saracens formed in a mass to prevent theirreaching the only gate which was not closed; as often Bisset,penetrating singly into the Saracen ranks, dealt death and destructionto his foes, and opened the way for his friends; till gradually, havingby force of arm overthrown every obstacle in his path, he reached thegate, and, followed by the Grand Master of the Temple, dashed throughthe opening, with a shout of defiance at his assailants.
But the Grand Master of the Hospital and Walter Espec had not such goodfortune as the Templar and the English knight. Bibars Bendocdar, enragedat 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 himselfprisoner. Wounded by an arrow and a javelin, but still struggling tofight his way out, Walter Espec cut down a Saracen soldier, and, risingin his stirrups and shouting, 'St. Katherine for Espec!' made a fiercethrust at Bendocdar. But next moment he was felled to the ground; hefelt that his blood was flowing fast, and that horsemen were riding overhim; and then he lost all consciousness, and lay prostrate andinsensible among the dead and the dying.