The Boy Crusaders: A Story of the Days of Louis IX.

'I have slain the sultan,' said he.

'Well, then, reign in his stead,' replied the bystanders.

The Mameluke chief was Bibars Bendocdar; and, having been proclaimed as successor to the man he had murdered, he ascended the throne, and, as sultan of Egypt and Syria, began to govern with despotic power.

Meanwhile, Louis was anxious to redeem from captivity the Crusaders who had been left in Egypt, and sent ambassadors to Cairo with the money that had been agreed on as their ransom. But the ambassadors could hardly get a hearing. At length they did obtain the release of four hundred of the Christian prisoners, most of whom had paid their own ransom; but when they pressed for the liberation of the others, they were plainly told that the King of France might deem himself fortunate that he had regained his own liberty; and that if he gave more trouble, he might expect the Mamelukes to besiege him at Acre. On hearing this Louis was much perplexed, and consulted his nobles, especially the Lord of Joinville.

'Sire,' said Joinville, after some consideration, 'this is a serious question, and one not to be hastily disposed of; for I remember that when I was on the eve of leaving home, my cousin, the Seigneur de Bollaincourt, said to me, "Now you are going beyond the seas, but take care how you return; no knight, either rich or poor, can come back without shame, if he leaves behind him, in the hands of the Saracens, any of the common people who leave home in his company." Now,' added the seneschal, 'these unhappy captives were in the service of the king, as well as the service of God, and never can they escape from captivity if the king should abandon them.'

On hearing this Louis was more perplexed than ever. In his anxiety, however, he bethought him of the caliph, and resolved, great as was the distance, to send ambassadors to Bagdad, where reigned Musteazem the Miser, the thirty-seventh of his dynasty.

Now, albeit Moslems were in the habit of paying great reverence to the caliph as the successor of Mahomet, he exercised very little substantial power over the fierce warriors who fought for Islamism. Nor, indeed, had the history of the caliphate been such as to add to the sacredness of the office, or to increase the superstitious veneration with which it was regarded. For several centuries, the East witnessed the spectacle of rival caliphs, both professing to be the representatives of the prophet, and each claiming all the privileges attaching to the character. The rivals were known as the Fatimites and the Abassides. The Fatimites claimed the caliphate as being the heirs of Ali, Mahomet's son-in-law, and established their throne at Cairo. The Abassides, who were Mahomet's male heirs, maintained their state at Bagdad. At length, in 1170, the struggle for supremacy was terminated by Saladin the Great, who killed the Caliph of Cairo with his mace, and rendered the Caliph of Bagdad undisputed chief of all Moslems; and, from that time, the Abassides, though sunk in effeminacy, and much given to sensual indulgences, continued to exercise their vague privileges and their shadowy authority.

Nevertheless, King Louis, bent on obtaining the relief of the captive Crusaders, despatched ambassadors to Bagdad to treat with the caliph. The ambassadors were a Templar, and Bisset the English knight; and with them, in their train, went Walter Espec, now, at length, hopeful of ascertaining something about his brother's fate.

It was not without encountering considerable danger, and having to endure much fatigue, that the Templar and the English knight, under the guidance of Beltran the renegade, who had opportunely appeared at Acre, and whom Bisset had pressed into the service, traversed the country; and, after many days' travel, drew nigh to the capital of the caliphate, which had been built, in the eighth century, by Al Mansour, one of the Abasside caliphs, out of the ruins of Ctesiphon, and afterwards enlarged and adorned by Haroun Alraschid, the great caliph of his dynasty.

But the journey had not been without its novelty and excitement; and Walter Espec was riding by the side of Beltran the renegade, towards whom, in spite of his prejudices as a Crusader, he felt the gratitude due to a man who had saved his life, when he was cut down at Mansourah. At present he was much interested with the account given by the renegade of the ostriches or camel-birds, and eager to learn how they were hunted.

'And so, good Beltran,' said he, 'you have actually hunted this bird, whose height is gigantic, whose cry at a distance resembles the lion's, and which is to be found in parched and desolate tracts, deserted even by antelopes and beasts of prey.'

'In truth have I,' replied Beltran.

'I envy you,' said Walter; 'nothing would please me more than such an enterprise.'

'Nevertheless,' rejoined the renegade, 'it is somewhat irksome, and requires much patience. But the Arabs have a proverb, that patience is the price that must be paid for all success, and act accordingly. They have horses trained for the purpose; and, when they first start the ostrich, they go off at an easy gallop, so as to keep the bird in view, without going so near as to alarm it. On discovering that it is pursued, the ostrich begins to move away, gently at first, but gradually increasing its speed, running with wings extended, as if flying, and keeps doubling. It generally takes two days to run one down; but the hunter gets the best of the race at last; and, when the ostrich finds itself exhausted and beaten, it buries its head in the sand; and the hunters, coming up, kill it with their clubs, taking care not to spoil the feathers.'

'On my faith,' said Walter, 'I do own that such a pursuit would be irksome; and I hardly think that my patience would brook so much delay.'

'However,' said Beltran, suddenly raising his hand and pointing forward, 'there lies before you the city of the caliph.'

Bagdad, as the reader may be aware, is situated on the Tigris, at the distance of two hundred miles above the junction of that river with the Euphrates, and the Tigris is here about six hundred feet in breadth. The city, which is of an oblong shape, and of which the streets are so narrow that not more than two horsemen can ride abreast, is surrounded with a high wall, flanked with towers, some of an immense size, built by the early caliphs; and several old buildings remain to attest its ancient magnificence – such as the Gate of the Talisman, a lofty minaret, built in 785; the tomb of Zobeida, the most beloved of the wives of Haroun Alraschid; and the famous Madressa College, founded in 1233 by the Caliph Mustenatser.

No traces, however, are left of the palace so long inhabited by the caliphs; nor does anything mark the place where, though its glory was about to depart, it still stood in all its pride, with the black banner of the Abassides floating over its portals, when the ambassadors of St. Louis reached Bagdad, and craved an audience of the heir of the prophet. It was a sight to impress even men accustomed to the wealth and splendour of Acre; and they thanked God for having conducted them in safety to a place where there was a prospect of food and rest.

But Walter Espec was not thinking of such things; his whole mind was occupied with the question, whether or not his lost brother was a captive within these walls.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

THE LAST OF THE CALIPHS

ASTONISHED as the Caliph Musteazem might be at the audacity which prompted a Frankish king to send ambassadors to the heir of the prophet, he did not venture to decline receiving the message of a prince who so recently had threatened the empire of Egypt with destruction, and might have the power of doing so again. Besides, Musteazem was not in the most celestial humour with the Mamelukes, who seemed inclined to defy his and every other person's authority; and, on hearing that the result of all the disorders and revolutions had been the elevation of Bibars Bendocdar to the throne of Saladin, he remarked, in homely oriental phrase, 'when the pot boils, the scum rises to the top.' Above all, Musteazem was a miser, and covetous to the last degree; and when it was explained to him by his grand vizier, whom the Templar had already bribed with a purse of gold, that the King of France was liberal in money matters, and was ready to pay handsomely for the ransom of his captive countrymen, the caliph's ruling passion prevailed – his avarice got the better of his dignity; and, without farther words, he consented to grant an audience to the Franks.

Meanwhile, the ambassadors and their attendants were admitted within the gates of the palace, and conducted into an immense garden, there to wait till suitable apartments were assigned them. And this garden made them stare with wonder; its regal magnificence was so surprising as to make them start and stop simultaneously, and to make Bisset exclaim —

'Of a truth, the lines of this pope of the infidels have fallen in pleasant places. None of King Henry's palaces can boast of anything like this. Surely it must be the terrestrial paradise.'

Now, this garden might well surprise the ambassadors. In the centre was a kiosk of the richest architecture, constructed entirely of marble and alabaster, with an arcade composed of countless marble pillars. In the court was a marble reservoir, surrounded with marble balustrades, which at each angle opened on a flight of stairs, guarded by lions and crocodiles sculptured of white marble; and alabaster baths with taps of gold. On one side of the garden was a large aviary; on the other a huge elephant, chained to a tree. The walks were set in mosaic of coloured pebbles, in all kinds of fanciful patterns; and around were groves, bowers, arbours, and trellis-covered paths, with streams, fountains, hedges of box and myrtle, flowers, cypresses, odoriferous plants, and trees groaning under the weight of lemons, oranges, citrons, and fruit in great variety. It was more like such a scene as magicians are supposed to conjure up, than reality; and the Crusaders gazed for a while with silent admiration.

'On my faith,' said Bisset, at length breaking the silence, 'this is marvellous to behold; and yet, had I the ear of the pope of the infidels, I should recommend an addition which would be to the purpose. I mean such a statue of the goddess Minerva as once stood in the great square of Constantinople.'

'And wherefore?'

'Because Minerva is the goddess who presides over prudence and valour; and my eyes have deceived me if, in this city, there is not a lack of both. Marked you not, as we rode along, that the place is well nigh without defences and fighting men; and think you that, with such spoil in prospect, the Mamelukes, not to mention the Moguls, would hesitate about seizing it?'

'You err,' replied the Templar: 'the caliph, as you say, is the pope of the infidels, and the Mamelukes hold everything he possesses as sacred.'

'So did they last century,' remarked Bisset, elevating his shoulders; 'and yet Saladin killed a caliph with his mace; and as for the Moguls, you know they are almost Christians, and Father Rubruquis is now in Tartary, completing their conversion. Beshrew me, sir Templar, if I deem not this caliph foolhardy to run the risk of being attacked, without fighting men to defend him.'

As the English knight spoke, an officer of the caliph appeared to conduct the ambassadors to their lodgings; and they, having refreshed themselves with the bath, and with food, were invited by the grand vizier to repair to the presence of the caliph.

It was not, however, without much ceremony, and some mystery, that the Templar and the English knight were admitted into the interior of a palace within whose precincts no Christian, save as a captive, had ever before set foot. First, they were guided through dark passages, guarded by armed Ethiopians, and then into open courts so richly and beautifully adorned, that they could not refrain from expressing their admiration.

'Certes,' exclaimed Bisset, halting, 'the caliph must, of all princes, be the richest; and I should not much marvel to hear that he had discovered the philosopher's stone, which turns everything into gold, and of which my countryman, Roger Bacon, is said to be in search. Nevertheless, he does not seem to have studied the Roman poet, who tells us that treasure is hardly worth having, unless it is properly used.'

'In truth, sir knight,' said the Templar, 'the farther we go, the greater is the splendour and state.'

At length the ambassadors reached a magnificent chamber, where the caliph awaited them. At first, however, he was concealed from them by a curtain wrought with pearls. But the grand vizier thrice prostrated himself to the ground; and, as he did so, the traverse was drawn aside, and the caliph appeared arrayed in gorgeous robes, seated on a throne of gold, and surrounded by his eunuchs, who seemed both surprised and grieved to see Christians in that place and presence.

And now the grand vizier kissed the caliph's hand, and, presenting the ambassadors, explained their errand. A long conversation, which was carried on chiefly by the Templar and the grand vizier, followed; and the caliph having expressed his willingness to treat, the grand vizier desired him, in token of his good faith, to give the ambassadors his hand. Musteazem, however, shook his head, to indicate that he was not prepared to derogate so far from his dignity. At length, after some persuasion, he consented to give them his hand, gloved.

'That will do,' said the grand vizier.

'I fear not,' replied the Templar, hesitating.

'Sir,' said Bisset, addressing the caliph – for by this time the English knight had recovered all his reckless audacity, and felt quite as much at home as if he had been in the palace of Westminster, and speaking to the good King Henry – 'truth makes no holes to hide herself in; and princes, if they will covenant, must deal fairly and openly. Give us, therefore, your hand, if you mean to treat; we will make no bargains with your glove.'

But the caliph, still unsatisfied, stood upon his dignity, and refused to be persuaded. However, at the instance of the grand vizier, he consented to consider the subject, and promise the ambassadors another audience on the morrow. But who can tell what a day may bring forth? Ere the morrow, an event occurred which raised more important questions than whether he could, without degradation, give his ungloved hand to a Templar and an English knight.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

A RECOGNITION

WHEN the Templar and the English knight left the lodgings that had been assigned to them in the palace of Bagdad to enter the presence of the caliph, and were honoured with the audience described, Walter Espec, excited by the novelty of his situation, thinking of his lost brother, and bearing in mind that he had a mission to accomplish, strolled, heedless of rules or regulations, into the garden of the palace, and took his way along one of the walks, set in mosaic-coloured pebbles, towards the kiosk. He had not proceeded far, however, when he perceived, coming from the opposite direction, six youths, apparently about his own age. All were so fettered as to be impeded in their walking, and seemed to be under the charge of an aged Saracen, who, in his turban and flowing robes, looked a most venerable personage.

'Christian captives, as I live,' muttered Walter, compassionately.

Of the six youths, five paced moodily along, with their eyes bent sadly on the ground; the sixth neither seemed sad, nor had his eyes bent on the ground, but held his head aloft with the air of one whom circumstances could not depress; and Walter felt his heart beat and his brain whirl, and stopped suddenly, with an exclamation of surprise, as in this youth he recognised an old acquaintance.

Immediately it appeared that the recognition was mutual. Indeed, the captive no sooner observed Walter than, disregarding the remonstrances of the old Saracen, and forgetful for the moment of his chains, he broke away from his companions, and hobbling, not without danger of a fall, fairly flung himself into the Boy Crusader's arms.

'Oh, good Walter,' exclaimed he, 'what a surprise! The idea of your being here, and at a time when they are threatening to put me to death because I will not embrace the filthy religion of their false prophet. But, thanks to our lady the Virgin, I now feel that I am saved.'

'In truth, brave Guy,' replied Walter, much affected, 'you are saved, if my efforts can save you. I have mourned for you as for one dead; and I swear by holy Katherine, who hath preserved me miraculously through manifold dangers, that if I fail I remain to share your fate, for weal or for woe. But how came you hither?'

'By St. John of Beverley,' answered Guy, 'not with my own goodwill, as you may swear on the Evangelists. I was dragged out of the galley of the Lord of Joinville, and, with my hands chained behind my back, I was, in that base, unworthy plight, led captive to Cairo; and, when the Mamelukes killed their sultan, and the sultana, that dark-eyed woman, who outdoes Jezebel in wickedness, wished to propitiate the caliph, she sent me and five other Christian prisoners whom you see as a peace-offering. And so,' added Guy, looking down at his fetters, 'here you see me, an Anglo-Norman gentleman, of great name, in captivity and chains, and threatened with a cruel death; which, however, I would fain escape; for, tempting as may be the prospect of the crown of martyrdom, beshrew me, good Walter, if at my age I deem not life too sweet to part with willingly.'

And in spite of his fetters and his perilous plight, Guy looked as blithe and gay as he was wont to do in the tiltyard of the castle of Wark.