CHAPTER XX.
PASSING THE ACHMOUN.
MORE than six weeks had passed since the Crusaders found their progressarrested by the Achmoun; and still the causeway by which they had hopedto pass the canal was not constructed. Indeed, the workmen had made verylittle progress since the first week; and Louis was despairing of seeingthe work brought to a completion, when, much to his gratification, helearned that there was a prospect of crossing the canal by the simplestof all processes.
On the day when Guy Muschamp was carried off as a captive, the Constableof France was surprised by a visit from a Bedouin, and demanded hisbusiness. The Bedouin thereupon offered, for five hundred goldenbezants, to point out a ford by which the Crusaders might, withoutdanger or difficulty, cross in safety to the opposite bank. Theconstable at once promised the required reward, in the event of theinformation proving satisfactory; but it was not till the money was tolddown that the Bedouin conducted him to the spot, and convinced him thatthe ford was there. Gladly hastening to Louis, the constable revealedthe means of extricating the armed pilgrims from their embarrassment;and the king, assembling the princes and nobles, decided on leaving theDuke of Burgundy on the Damietta side with a sufficient force to guardthe camp; and then, mastering their men and mounting their horses, theyat midnight marched along the bank of the canal to the ford pointed outby the Bedouin, and awaited the break of day to dash through the waterand move towards Mansourah.
It was the morning of Tuesday, the 8th of February, 1250--ShroveTuesday--when the armed pilgrims, under the auspices of King Louis,halted on the Damietta side of the Achmoun, and awaited the signal topass to that on which Mansourah was situated. Everything so far had gonequite as smoothly as could reasonably have been expected. Some horsemen,indeed, rode too near the margin of the canal, and, getting on soft andslippery ground, they and their horses fell in and were drowned. Amongthem was Sir John of Orleans, a valiant knight, who bore the Frenchbanner. But this was a slight misfortune compared with that which thefolly and presumption of one man was preparing for that ill-starredhost.
At all times, and under all circumstances, the Count of Artois was oneof the most unreasonable of human beings; and at this moment, soimportant to Louis, to France, to the Crusaders, and to the Christiankingdom of Jerusalem, nothing would satisfy his ambition but being thefirst to cross. Not unaware of his brother's failings, Louis protested;but the count persisted; and, promising to wait with patience on theopposite bank for the main army, he placed himself at the head of thevan, which was formed of the Templars, the Hospitallers, and the EnglishCrusaders, and dashed into the canal.
Now, at this moment the opposite bank was occupied by several hundredSaracen horsemen, who seemed prepared to oppose the landing of theCrusaders. No sooner, however, did the Saracens perceive that theCrusaders were fording the canal safely than they gave way, and fledtowards the camp of the Emir Fakreddin at Djedile.
It was then that, in spite of all the warnings he had received and allthe promises he had made, the Count of Artois gave way to theimpetuosity that was destined to lead to the ruin of the pilgrim army.At the sight of the flying Saracens, he threw all discretion to thewinds, and, attended by his governor, an old deaf knight, who held hisrein, pursued the fugitives towards the camp. In vain the Grand Mastersof the Temple and the Hospital shouted out remonstrances. The count paidno attention whatever; and the aged knight, who was too deaf to hear aword, urged on the pursuit, crying loudly, 'Hurrah! hurrah! Upon them!upon them!'
The Saracens who occupied the camp at Djedile were panic-stricken; and,supposing that the whole French army was upon them, fled in confusiontowards Mansourah. But there was one man who did not fly; and that manwas Fakreddin. When the camp was invaded, the emir was in his bath, andhaving his beard coloured, after the custom of the Orientals; but heimmediately roused himself, dressed himself hastily, and, springing onhorseback, endeavoured to rally his troops, and attempted to resist.Inspired by Fakreddin's example, the Saracens who had not fled offered afeeble resistance. But it was unavailing, and they followed thefugitives streaming towards Mansourah. Fakreddin, however, disdainingeither to fly or yield, continued to struggle bravely; until, leftalmost alone, he fell in the midst of his foes, covered with wounds, andconsoling himself, as his breath went, that his end was glorious, thathe died a martyr for Islamism, and that he would be conveyed to thebanks of the celestial river.
'By the head of St. Anthony!' exclaimed the Count of Artois, lookingfiercely on Fakreddin's mangled corpse, 'it was this emir who boastedthat he would dine in the red tent of my lord the king; but now he willnot grumble at a humbler resting-place.'
'My lord count,' said Salisbury, gravely, 'the emir, had he been tentimes a Saracen, was a brave man; and let us merit the praises of thevaliant by showing that we know how to honour the memory of our enemiesas well as of our friends.'
'Amen,' said both the grand masters, in significant accents.