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Medieval Sourcebook:
William of Newburgh:  Book Four

Book One | Book Two | Book Three | Book Four | Book Five | Introduction

Index:

Chapter 1:  Of the commencement of the reign of King Richard, and of the events which occurred at his coronation    <to index>

[1] In the one thousand one hundred and eighty-ninth year from the fullness of time when the Truth arose from the earth -- Clement presiding over the holy see, Henry the son of Frederick holding supreme dominion over the Roman empire, and Philip governing the French -- Richard, the son of Henry II, that most illustrious king of England, succeeded to the throne upon the death of his father. After the burial of his father, he entered upon his inheritance beyond the sea, and was received, amidst rejoicings and solemn vows, by the nobles as well as the people. After public affairs had been quickly arranged beyond the sea, he crossed over into England in a happy hour, where his arrival was expected with joy: and, in order that the accession of the new sovereign might be attended with general rejoicings, all prisoners were released through out England by his proclamation, although at that time the jails were overflowing with numerous offenders, who were awaiting release or punishment. Thus, on his entrance into the kingdom, those jail pests, by his clemency, went forth from prison to rob and plunder more boldly, perhaps, than ever.

[2] On the day appointed for his coronation, almost all the nobility of the kingdom, and from the parts beyond the sea, came to London, together with a great number of men of distinction. Richard -- the only monarch of the age who bore that name -- was consecrated king at London, and solemnly crowned by Baldwin, archbishop of Canterbury, on the third day of the nones of September [3 Sept.], a day which, from the ancient superstition of the Gentiles, is called Evil, or Egyptian, as if it had been a kind of presage of the event which occurred to the Jews. For that day is considered to have been fatal to Jews, and to be Egyptian rather than English; since England, in which their fathers had been happy and respected under the preceding king, was suddenly changed against them, by the judgment of God, into a kind of Egypt where their fathers had suffered hard things. Though this is an event that is fresh in our memory, and known to all who are now living, yet it is worth the trouble to transmit to posterity a full narration of it, as proof of an evident judgment from on high upon that perfidious and blasphemous race.

[3] Not only Christian nobles, but also the leading men among the Jews, had come together from all parts of England to witness the solemn anointing of the Christian sovereign. For those enemies of the truth were on the watch, lest, perchance, the prosperity which they had enjoyed under the preceding monarch should smile upon them less favorably under the new king; and they wished that his first acts should be honored by them in the most becoming manner, thinking that undiminished favor would be secured by ample gifts. But whether it was that they were less acceptable to him than to his father, or whether he was on his guard against them from some cause of which I am ignorant, through a superstitious precaution advised by certain persons, he forbade them (by a proclamation, it is said) to enter the church while he was being crowned, or to enter the palace while the banquet was being held after the solemnity of the coronation. After the celebration of the mass was finished, the king, glorious in his diadem, and with a magnificent procession, went to the banquet; but it happened that, when he was sitting down with all the assembly of the nobility, the people, who were watching about the palace, began to crowd in. The Jews, who had mingled with the crowd, were thus driven within the doors of the palace. At this, a certain Christian was indignant; and remembering the royal proclamation against them, he endeavored, as it is said, to drive away a Jew from the door, and struck him with his hand. Aroused at this example, many more began to beat the Jews back with contempt, and a tumult arose. The lawless and furious mob, thinking that the king had commanded it and supported them, as they thought, by his royal authority, rushed like the rest upon the multitude of Jews who stood watching at the door of the palace. At first they beat them unmercifully with their fists; but soon becoming more enraged, they took sticks and stones. The Jews then fled away; and in their flight, many were beaten, so that they died, and others were trampled under foot and perished. Along with the rest, two noble Jews of York had come thither, one named Joceus, and the other Benedict. Of these, the first escaped; but the other, following him, could not run so fast, while blows were laid upon him; so he was caught, and to avoid death was compelled to confess himself a Christian; and being conducted to a church, was there baptized.

[4] In the meantime, an agreeable rumor that the king had ordered all the Jews to be exterminated pervaded the whole of London with incredible celerity. An innumerable mob of lawless people, belonging to that city and also from other places in the provinces, whom the solemnity of the coronation had attracted thither, soon assembled in arms, eager for plunder and for the blood of a people hateful to all men, by the judgment of God. Then the Jewish citizens, of whom a multitude reside in London, together with those who had come thither from all parts, retired to their own houses. From three o'clock in the afternoon until sunset, their dwellings were surrounded by the raging people and vigorously attacked. By reason of their strong construction, however, they could not be broken into, and the furious assailants had no engines. The roofs, therefore, were set on fire; and a horrible conflagration, destructive to the besieged Jews, afforded light to the Christians who were raging in their nocturnal work. Nor was the fire destructive to the Jews alone, though kindled especially against them; for knowing no distinction, it caught some of the nearest houses of the Christians also. Then you might have seen the most beautiful parts of the city miserably blazing in flames, caused by her own citizens as if they had been enemies. The Jews, however, were either burnt in their own houses, or, if they came out, were received on the point of the sword. Much blood was shed in a short time, but the rising desire for plunder induced the people to rest satisfied with the slaughter they had committed. Their avarice overcame their cruelty; for they ceased to slay, but their greedy fury led them to plunder houses and carry off their wealth. This, however, changed the aspect of affairs, and made Christians hostile to Christians; for some, envying others for what they had seized in their search for plunder arid wicked emulation in avarice, were led to spare neither friends nor companions.

[5] These events were reported to the king as he was banqueting in festivity with all the assembly of nobles; and Ranulph de Glanville, who was justiciary of the realm -- a man both powerful and prudent -- was thereupon sent from his presence, with other men of equal rank, that they might turn aside or restrain the audacity of the mob; but it was in vain, for in so great a tumult no one listened to his voice or showed respect to his presence; but some of the most riotous began to shout against him and his companions, and threatened them in a terrible manner if they did not quickly depart. They, therefore, wisely retired before such unbridled fury; and the plunderers, with equal freedom and audacity, continued to riot until eight o'clock on the following day; and at that time satiety or weariness of rioting, rather than reason or reverence for the king, allayed the fury of the plunderers.

[6] This hitherto unheard-of occurrence in the royal city, and this destruction, so emphatically begun, of that unbelieving race, and this novel confidence of the Christians against the enemies of the Cross of Christ, distinguished the first day of the reign of that most illustrious king Richard -- evidently presaging the promotion of Christianity in his days, not only according to the rule by which doubtful events are rather to be explained for the better than for the worse, but also according to the most apt interpretation; for what does it signify more suitably, if it signifies anything, than that the destruction of that blasphemous race ennobled equally the day, and the place, and his consecration as king, and that in the very commencement of his reign the enemies of the Christian faith began to grow weak, and to fall around him? Should not, therefore, the conflagration of a certain part of the city, or the unreasoning fervor of lawless men, affect every one in this way, and lead him to become a good and pious interpreter of a noble result to come? Since, although events of this kind may militate against the order of that rule which is from on high, yet the Omnipotent may frequently execute His will (which is most good) by the will and the acts (which are most evil) of men even the most wicked? Certainly, the new king, who was of a lofty and fierce disposition, was filled with indignation and grief that such events had occurred, almost in his presence, amidst the solemnities of his coronation and at the commencement of his reign; and he was irritated and anxious as to what he ought to do upon this occasion. To overlook so great and unexampled an affront to his royal dignity and to let it pass unpunished, seemed an action unworthy of a king, and also injurious to the realm; since his connivance at an atrocity so great would encourage the audacity of evil-doers to attempt similar acts of violence in the hope of impunity.

[7] Moreover, it would be utterly impossible to enforce the rigor of royal censure upon such an indefinite multitude of guilty persons. For hatred towards the Jews and the hope of plunder had united in the performance of the work, which I have mentioned, almost all the retainers of the nobles who had come with their lords to the solemnity of the coronation, besides the nobles themselves, who were feasting with the king; and of them the number was so great that the ample space of the royal palace seemed all too small for them. It was, therefore, necessary to connive at that which could not be punished; and, without doubt, it was ordained by God, that those who were the ministers of Divine vengeance upon the perfidious and the blasphemous should not be subjected to human judgment on account of this. The design of that watchfulness which is on high demanded that those blasphemers, who in the time of the late sovereign had been beyond measure stiff-necked and perverse towards Christians, should be humbled at the commencement of the reign of his successor. That Benedict, however, who, as I have said, had received Christian baptism under compulsion, yet not giving credence in his heart to that which was right, but only beating the air by the empty confession of his lips, being brought the next day to the king, and interrogated by him whether he was a Christian, replied that he had been compelled by the Christians to be baptized, but in his heart he had always been a Jew; and he would rather die as such, since he could not possibly live now, for he was treading close upon death by reason of the blows he had received the day before. Being, therefore, cast out from the presence of the sovereign, the Christian apostate was restored to the Jews; and being made the child of hell two-fold more than before, he died after a few days, having been made a Christian only for this, that he might die an apostate. The king, however, after the slaughter of the Jews, established peace by proclamation; of which, nevertheless, they did not long enjoy the fruits, as shall be narrated in its place: for justice from on high required that the pride of that blasphemous race should be yet more severely punished.

Chapter 2:  Of the appointments to vacant churches after the coronation of King Richard     <to index>

Among the first subjects to which the new king gave his attention was that of the many vacant cathedral churches in England, in order that they should, by his nomination, enjoy their proper bishops. Therefore, Richard of Ely, the royal treasurer, accepted the see of London; Godfrey de Lucy, the cathedral of Winchester; William Longchamp, the royal chancellor, the bishopric of Ely, and Hubert, dean of York, the church of Salisbury. Moreover, to Geoffrey, the king's brother -- who had formerly been elected to the church of Lincoln, and for many years (as it has been said in its place) had been in possession of that church, and received its temporalities; and being at length removed thence, presided over the royal treasury until the decease of his father -- to him, I say, the king granted the metropolitan see of York, which had been void for nearly ten years. We have been informed that the election of this Geoffrey took place in this wise. On the death of his father, letters were obtained (as it is said) from the new duke, who was yet remaining in Normandy, by the artifice of certain persons in the interest of the same Geoffrey, and directed to the chapter of York, requesting that his brother Geoffrey should be elected archbishop, and threatening peril to those who should resist the royal intention. The precentor, and those who were there (for the dean and many others were absent), were terrified and awed by those letters, and regarding only the favor of their future monarch, they solemnly elected the aforesaid Geoffrey; but when the king had assumed his diadem, and was presiding over his paternal kingdom, he was angry at that election, and recalled those letters by which the electors had been influenced, as being surreptitious, or at any rate not his. He was, however, pacified by the promise of a large sum of money, for the exigencies of his expedition to Jerusalem, and finally gave his assent; but what came to pass afterwards with regard to that election shall be explained in its place.

Chapter 3:  Of the affection of the king toward his brother John    <to index>

The king, moreover, declared his personal affection, in a remarkable manner, to his uterine brother John; for, besides his extensive paternal acquisitions in Ireland, and the earldom of Mortaine in Normandy, of which he had already received the gift from his father, the king bestowed upon him so many gifts in the kingdom of England, that he seemed to possess almost a third part of it. At length he conferred upon him Cornwall, Devonshire, Nottinghamshire, and Lancashire, with the adjacent province, and many other portions of the royal demesne. He likewise gave him the daughter of the earl of Gloucester, his own cousin in the fourth degree, with the whole of her paternal inheritance, which (as is well known) is very great. He thus provided for him in a way that was scarcely legitimate, and one that hardly became a brother; but this immoderate and improvident liberality towards his brother produced many and great evils in the time that followed, and punished him, who bestowed so profusely, with deep regret. For John, being indulged with this tetrarchical power, became first ambitious of obtaining the monarchy, and afterwards faithless to his brother, and finally, manifestly hostile. This, however, will have its place in the order of our history, and be more fully explained.

Chapter 4:  Of the successor of Ranulph de Glanville in the justiciarship of the realm     <to index>

Ranulph de Glanville, a man of the greatest prudence, was still justiciar of the realm, as he had been in the time of the previous king, though the king considered that he had become old and acted with much less wisdom and forethought than he had shown when new in office. The justiciar, too, wished to be released from the burden of this office, that he might with greater convenience prepare himself for his departure for Jerusalem, since he had assumed the sign of the Lord under king Henry. He, therefore, solemnly renounced his office, and had less able successors. The office was then entrusted by the king to the bishop of Durham, who did not hesitate to accept it; though, if he had been wise, he would have been content with his own office and continued a minister of the Divine law rather than have become a minister of human law, since no one can worthily serve both; and that injunction to the apostles, "Ye cannot serve God and mammon" [Matt. 6:24], applies in the highest degree to the successors of the apostles. For if the bishop was willing equally to please a heavenly and an earthly king, and to divide himself between both offices, it is certain that the King in heaven, whose will it is that men should serve Him with all the heart, all the soul, and all the mind, does not approve, nor accept any half-service: but what will be the fate of the bishop who does not perform even half of those duties which belong to God, and which become a bishop, but commits his duties to unworthy persons, who perform them remissly while he attends wholly to the affairs of this life, or to the court, or to public assemblies? No one can administer half the functions of an earthly king by giving half his time to its requirements, Wherefore, the bishop, whom I have mentioned, being already in years, after he had undertaken this secular office, resided in the south of England, and devoted himself entirely to public affairs.

Chapter 5:  What the king did in England before he embarked    <to index>

[1] The king of England (who, when he was earl of Poitou, was the first of the potentates who had accepted the cross of the Lord) then carefully made ready for his departure towards Jerusalem, and commenced all kinds of preparations for the necessary expenses, chiefly at the instance of the king of France, that they might set out together at a suitable time, and employ the interval of delay which they had agreed upon, in making complete arrangements. Nor did he think that his paternal treasures, together with that which his father had amassed especially for this journey, would be sufficient; but he employed his own industry and labor in this work, thinking it would he disgraceful to him were he to stop short of the glory of his father even in this respect. He, therefore, by urgent letters, summoned the king of the Scots, who was then suffering under intense sorrow for the loss of the castles which had been taken from him by the chances of war (as was mentioned above), that is to say, Roxburgh and Berwick; for in the reign of king Henry he had recovered the third castle, which is called "Castellum. Puellarum" [Edinburgh], when, by his advice and good-will, he had received a wife from foreign parts. Coming, therefore, to the king of England, he agreed to pay him ten thousand marks of silver for the surrender of those castles; and returning to his own country, he extorted that sum from his subjects by the exercise of royal power. When he had paid this to the king of England, he, with much joy, received the castles.

[2] The new king also craftily persuaded the bishop of Durham, whom he believed to be wealthy, to purchase from him the province of his own bishopric, that he might become at once a bishop and the earl of that province, by annexing the earldom to the bishopric. In doing this, think of the acuteness of the king in getting the bishop's money, and of the immoderate ambition of the old bishop of a see which is known to be excessively rich, and yet not content, at his age; and who thought not of that prophetic passage, uttered even by the prophet of the Lord, "Woe unto them that join house to house, that lay field to field" [Isaiah 5:8], as he joined the earldom to the bishopric, without caring which was the greater. Thus, for the purchase of the earldom, he gave the king whatever he had accumulated in preparation for his expedition to Jerusalem, and all that he was able to rake together from his see. The king gloried in a bargain of this kind, and jokingly said, "I am a wonderful workman; for out of an old bishop I have made a new earl." But when the bishop had thus divested himself of his money, which he had devoted to the sacred pilgrimage for the sake of Christ, he next studied how to revoke the vow he had made to Almighty God on solemnly assuming the cross; and since he could not say to the Roman pontiff, by his messengers, "I have purchased an earldom, and therefore I cannot set out for Jerusalem; so I pray thee have me excused" -- which, indeed, he might have said with truth -- he spoke of his failing age, and alleged that he was unequal to so laborious a pilgrimage. Being thus left to his own conscience, he thereupon weakly and irreverently cast away the sacred emblem of devotion, and rested in the possession of that precious pearl which he had found in the king, and for which he had given so much; which however is not a solid possession, but, in regard to the changes of times and things, is but brief and transitory.

[3] The king, however, with the same art by which he had exhausted the bags of this bishop, also enticed many others to vie with each other in pouring out their money in the purchase of certain dignities, or liberties, or public employments, and even in the purchase of the royal demesnes. He thus dissipated his own property to set off early, as if he had no intention of returning: and when, in familiar boldness, he was blamed by his friends on account of this, he is said to have replied, "I would sell London also, if I could find a suitable purchaser." At length, amidst these sales he seemed to lose his judgment; and on that account many persons bought more freely, because it was thought he would never return to his country: for he was said also to be already broken down and languid through the premature and immoderate use of arms, in which he had indulged more than was prudent from his youth upwards, so that he seemed likely to be speedily exhausted by the labor of the Eastern expedition. Others said that his system was so corrupted and consumed by a quartan ague, which he had endured for a long time, that he could not long exist in that disorder, and especially amidst labor so great. An argument in favor of this view was a certain unbecoming symptom that appeared in him, together with paleness of the face and swelling of the limbs. Others even said that he had more than a hundred issues on his body, to carry off the corruption of the humours. Such were the reports concerning the king that flew about in the ears and through the mouths of almost all men; and his indiscreet and immoderate donations and sales gave the appearance of truth to them; and, as if he understood that he would finish his career soon, he was supposed to care very little for the kingdom, because he divided or disposed of it in such a manner; but afterwards it was clearly seen with what subtle craft he had done or feigned all this, in order that he might drain the bags of all those who seemed rich.

[4] After he had remained some months in England, he left the administration to his chancellor, the bishop of Ely, and crossed over into Normandy before the solemnities of Christmas. Almost all men were enraged against him, on seeing so noble a king, when about to set out for distant countries, leave his own kingdom with so little ceremony; and at his departure evince less care than became him, in committing, without the advice and consent of the nobility, the direction of affairs to a man who was a foreigner of obscure name, and whose industry and fidelity were not much approved; but whether they undervalued, justly or otherwise, this appointment made by the king, was shown clearly by the events of the time that followed.

Chapter 6:  Of a certain prodigy which at that time was seen in the air     <to index>

Nor ought I to pass over in silence a most amazing and fearful prodigy, which about this time was seen in England by many, who to this day are witnesses of it to those who did not see it. There is upon the public road which goes to London a town, by no means insignificant, called Dunstaple. There, as certain persons happened to be looking up at the sky in the afternoon, they saw in the clear atmosphere the form of the banner of the Lord, conspicuous by its milky whiteness, and joined to it the figure of a man crucified, such as is painted in the church in remembrance of the passion of the Lord, and for the devotion of the faithful. As they stood thus in astonishment, gazing with their eyes fixed on this marvelous object, many persons going on the public road wondered at their amazement, with faces upturned to the sky, and also looked up and began to be equally astonished when they saw the novelty of this appearance. When this fearful sight had thus been visible for some time, and the countenances and minds of those who were curiously watching it were kept in suspense, the form of the cross was seen to recede from the person who seemed affixed to it, so that an intermediate space of air could be observed between them; and soon afterwards this marvelous vision disappeared; but the effect remained, after the cause of this prodigy was removed. At length, the report of this was spread far and wide, and the rumor of this prodigious appearance was circulated, with the astonishment expressed at it. Let every one interpret this wonderful sight as he pleases; for I am but a simple narrator of it, and not a presaging interpreter. What the Divinity may have intended to signify by it, I know not.

Chapter 7:  What was done against the insolence of the Jews at Lynn    <to index>

[1] When (as it has been related above) Richard, the illustrious king of England, had settled his kingdom as he wished, he crossed over into Normandy, and held a solemn conference with the king of France, at which both of them confirmed their oaths of mutual alliance and, promising brotherly love on either side, bound themselves yet more strongly to the expedition towards the East, with their nobles who had accepted the sign of the cross; and appointed the next summer as the time of their departure. When these acts had been solemnly performed, each of the princes made preparations in proportion to his own greatness and the magnitude of the undertaking.

[2] But while these things were passing in France, the zeal of the Christians against the Jews in England, which had been inflamed a short time before at London (as I have related), now vehemently broke forth; not, indeed, from a pure motive -- that is, on account of the faith alone -- but through envy at their prosperity or desire to seize their fortunes. Bold and covetous men thought they were doing service to God, while they were despoiling or ruining men who were rebels against Christ; and they performed with joyful fury, and without even the slightest scruple of conscience, the work of their own covetousness. The justice of God, indeed, little approved of such deeds, but ordained then, as it is meet, that by these means He might coerce the insolence of that perfidious people, and bridle their blasphemous tongues.

[3] There is a city called Lynn, famous for its provisions and its commerce, where many of those people resided: arrogant from their numbers, the magnitude of their riches, and the royal protection; and here the first movement was made against them (as we have heard) on an occasion of this kind.

[4] It happened that a certain person had been converted from their superstition to the Christian faith; and thirsting for his blood, as a deserter and renegade, they sought for an opportunity of completing their malicious intent; and on a certain day they seized their arms and attacked him as he passed; but he took refuge in the nearest church. Yet the raging Jews did not go quietly away, but with perverse fury and violence began to attack that church, to break the doors open, and drag the fugitive out for slaughter. A loud shout was raised by those who were within the church, "Help for the Christian!" was demanded with loud voices. The cries and the rumor inflamed the Christian population, and collected those who were near at hand, while those who were farther off armed themselves at the intelligence and ran to the rescue. The inhabitants of the place acted with remissness, for fear of the king; but some strange youths, of whom a great multitude had come thither for the purpose of traffic, valiantly attacked those proud assailants. The Jews soon ceased to assault the church; and, not being able to endure the attack of the Christians, took to flight, in which some were killed; their houses were attacked and plundered by the Christians, and at length burnt in avenging flames; many of them bedewed with their blood either the hostile fire or the sword of the enemy. On the following day, a certain Jew, who was a celebrated physician, arrived, and on account of his skill, and his orderly behavior, was held in honor, and treated with familiarity by Christians also; but he, deploring the slaughter of his people, rather immoderately, and by prophesying vengeance, roused the fury that was yet breathing. Him the Christians soon seized, and there made him the last victim of their rage against the Jews. The strange youths, loaded with plunder, sought their ships and quickly departed, apprehensive that they would be examined by the king's officers; but the inhabitants of the place, when they were questioned on this matter by the king's officers, threw the blame of the affair on the strangers who had already gone away.

Chapter 8:  What was done against the Jews at Stamford, and of a certain popular superstition     <to index>

[1] After these events, the movement of a new storm against the Jews arose at Stamford. At that place fairs are held during the solemnities of Lent; to which had come a multitude of young men from different counties, who had received the sign of the Lord, and were about to set out for Jerusalem. They were indignant that the enemies of the cross of Christ, who lived there, should possess so much, while they themselves had so little for the expenses of so great a journey; and they thought they would extort from the Jews, as unjust possessors, that which they could apply to the needful purposes of the pilgrimage which they had undertaken. Thinking, therefore, that they would render service unto Christ by attacking His enemies, whose goods they desired to possess, they boldly rushed upon them; while none of the inhabitants of the place, or those who had come to the fairs, opposed such attempts; and some even co-operated with them. Several of the Jews were killed, and the rest, who escaped with difficulty, were received within the castle. Their houses, however, plundered, and a great quantity of money was seized.

[2] The plunderers decamped with the fruits of their labor; and no one, through a desire to maintain public order, was questioned on account of this affair. One of these, by name John, a most audacious youth, going to Hampton, deposited a part of his money with a certain man, by whom -- from a desire to obtain the same money -- he was secretly murdered, and his body cast out of the town at night. When it was found, and accidentally recognized by some people, the avaricious murderer took to secret flight. Soon after, some old women having had some visions, and some delusions of fallacious prodigies appearing there, these simple people ascribed to the murdered youth the merit and glory of a martyr, and honored his sepulchre with solemn watches. Roused by his reputation, the senseless common people came at first from places in the neighborhood, and afterwards poured in from different counties, in a curious spirit of devotion, desiring to witness the miracles of the new martyr, or to obtain his intercession; and no one came to his sepulchre empty-handed. This was laughed at by prudent people; but it was agreeable to the clergy on account of the advantages that resulted from the superstition. The matter was referred to the bishop, a man of exalted virtue; he came to the place in the spirit of strength, and profaned the marks of honor to this false martyr, which bad been arranged by the care of the simple and the covetous; and he forbade this superstitious veneration for the dead man, by his pontifical authority and by imposition of an anathema. So by the pious and efficacious labor of a good shepherd, the whole of that work of the spirit of deceit was extinguished and vanished away.

Chapter 9:  How the Jews of Lincoln and York were treated    <to index>

[1] The people of Lincoln, hearing what had been done to the Jews, seizing the opportunity and animated by example, thought they might venture upon something; and having assembled together, they broke out in a sudden commotion against the Jews who lived there with them. But they, having heard of the fear or destruction of their people in diverse places, were rendered very cautious; and after a few of them had been exposed to danger, they retired quickly with their money into the royal fortress. Thus this slight commotion was soon quieted.

[2] The people of York, however, neither by the fear of a most courageous prince, nor the vigor of the laws, nor reason, nor humanity, were prevented from satiating their personal fury in the general destruction of their perfidious fellow-citizens, and sweeping away the whole race in their city. Inasmuch as this is most worthy of remembrance, it ought to be transmitted to posterity by a full narration.

[3] Of the Jews of York (as I have mentioned above) the principal were Benedict and Joceus, men who were rich, and who lent on usury far and wide. Besides, with profuse expense they had built houses of the largest extent in the midst of the city, which might be compared to royal palaces; and there they lived in abundance and luxury almost regal, like two princes of their own people, and tyrants to the Christians, exercising cruel tyranny towards those whom they had oppressed by usury. When they were in London, at the solemnity of the royal coronation, Benedict (as it has been mentioned) had, by the judgment of God, a most unhappy lot assigned him for his end, and appeared to be in this accursed; but Joceus, having been with difficulty rescued from danger for a time, returned to York. Now, although the king, after the tumult at London, had passed a law for the peace of the Jews, and acted in good faith towards them throughout England, according to the ancient custom; yet, when the king was afterwards resident in the parts beyond sea, many people in the county of York took an oath together against the Jews, being unable to endure their opulence while they themselves were in want; and, without any scruple of Christian conscientiousness, thirsted for their perfidious blood, through the desire of plunder. Those who urged them on to venture upon these measures were certain persons of higher rank, who owed large sums to those impious usurers. Some of these, who had pledged their own estates to them for money, which they had received, were oppressed with great poverty; and others who were under obligations, on account or their own bonds, were oppressed by the tax-gatherers to satisfy the usurers who had dealings with the king. Some also of those who had accepted the sign of the Lord, and were now in readiness to set out for Jerusalem, could more easily be impelled to aid the expenses of a journey undertaken for the Lord, out of the plunder of His enemies; because they had very little reason to fear that any question would arise on this account after they had commenced their journey.

[4] Late at night no small portion of the city was blazing in a conflagration that was kindled by chance, or rather (as it is believed) by confederates; so that while the citizens were occupied with their own houses, because of the peril of fire, they could offer no impediment to the plunderers. An armed band of the confederates, with iron tools made ready for this purpose, and with great violence, broke into the house of the said Benedict, who had died miserably at London (as it is mentioned above); in this house his wife and sons, and many others, were living; and after they had slain all that were in it, they set fire to the roof also; and while the fire was sullenly gaining strength, they swept away all the wealth, and left the house in flames; and thus, favored by darkness and well-laden, the plunderers retired to their secret retreat. The Jews, struck with consternation at this event and especially Joceus, who was more eminent than the rest, earnestly entreated the governor of the royal castle, and secured his assistance. They carried thither vast loads of their money, as if they bad been royal treasurers ; and, moreover, they had a very vigilant guard for their own security.

[5] After some days, those nocturnal plunderers returned with greater confidence and ferocity; and, being joined by many others, they fiercely attacked the house of Joceus; which, from the magnitude and strength of its construction, might be said to be equal to a castle of no small size. At length they took it; and after plundering it, they set it on fire, while all those persons whose misfortune it was to be in the house were destroyed either by the sword or by fire. Joceus, however, cautiously foreseeing this misfortune, had a short Lime before removed into the castle with his wife and sons. In like manner the rest of the Jews acted, very few remaining abroad to be victims. After the plunderers had decamped with the booty acquired by so daring a deed, a promiscuous mob rushed in when it was morning, and carried off different kinds of things, and household furniture of every sort -- the remains left by the plunderers and the fire. After this, those who had previously regarded the Jews with hatred, uniting with the confederates, and entertaining no respect for the vigor of the law, openly and with unbridled license begin to rage against them; and, not being content with their substance, they gave to all they could find outside the castle the option either of holy baptism, or of death. At length, some who were baptized united themselves with the Christians; but they only feigned conversion in order to escape death; but others were slain without mercy, who refused to receive the sacrament of life, even though feignedly.

[6] While these events were occurring, the multitude which had fled into the castle seemed to be in safety. The governor of the castle, however, happening to go out upon some kind of business, when he wished to enter the castle again, he was not permitted by the multitude inside and on the watch, as they were uncertain whom they could trust, lest, perchance, his faith towards them might happen to waver; and if he were corrupted, he might, after having received them for protection, expose them to their enemies. However, he instantly went to the governor of the county, who happened to be there on the king's business, with a large company of knights of the shire, and complained that he was defrauded by the Jews of the custody of the castle, which had been committed to him. The governor was indignant and enraged against the Jews; while those, in particular, who had been the authors of the confederacy, continued to inflame his anger. They alleged that the timorous precaution of those miserable wretches was nothing else than a proud occupation of the royal castle, which of itself was greatly to the injury of the lord the king. Since many people were determined to attack those faithless men in every possible way, and to rescue the royal castle from them, the governor gave orders that the people should be assembled, and that the castle should be attacked. The irrevocable word went forth; the zeal of the Christian people was roused, and immense bands of armed men, not only from the pity, but also from the county, gathered around the castle.

[7] Then the governor began to regret the order which he had issued, and endeavored, in vain, to recall his command, and wished, but too late, to forbid the assault. But he had no power, either by the weight of reason or of authority, to restrain their minds, which were now inflamed, nor to prevent them from pursuing their design. The nobility of the city, and the more respectable citizens, apprehending danger from this commotion, cautiously declined to join such a riot; but the whole class of workmen, and all the young men in the city, with a very great mob of country people, and not a few military men, assisted with such alacrity, and urged forward the work of blood, as if each one sought his own private advantage, and something great for himself. Many of the clergy, too, were present; and among them a certain hermit, who appeared more fervent than the rest. Equal zeal inflamed all; thinking that they performed a great service to God, if they swept away a race rebellious against Christ, while, in their blinded understandings, they perverted that passage of David, that is to say, of the Lord, which is uttered in the person of the Savior, "God shall let me see my desire upon my enemies. Slay them not, lest my people forget" [Psalm 59:11]. In fact, the perfidious Jew that crucified the Lord Jesus Christ is suffered to live amongst Christians, from the same regard to Christian utility, that causes the form of the cross of the Lord to be painted in the church of Christ; that is to say, to perpetuate the highly beneficial remembrance of the passion of the Lord amongst all the faithful; and while in the Jew we execrate that impious action, in that sacred form we venerate the Divine majesty with due devotion. Thus the Jews ought to live among Christians for our own utility; but for their own iniquity they ought to live in servitude. The Jews who were living in England under king Henry II, by a preposterous proceeding, had been made happy and famous above the Christians; and out of their great prosperity, lifting themselves up imprudently against Christ, they had inflicted many sufferings upon the Christians; on which account, in the days of the new king, they underwent by the just judgment of Christ this peril of their lives -- those lives which they possessed by his clemency; and yet, in the admirable order of His justice, those men can by no means be excused, who, by an unexpected commotion, inflicted slaughter upon them.

Chapter 10:  Of the destruction of the Jews at York    <to index>

[1] Thus were the Jews besieged in the royal castle; and in consequence of the want of a sufficient supply of food, they would, without doubt, have been compelled to surrender, even if no one had attacked them from without, for they had not arms sufficient either for their own protection, or to repel the enemy. Nevertheless, they kept off the besiegers with stones alone, which they pulled out of the wall in the interior. The castle was actively besieged for several days; and at length engines were got ready and brought up. That hermit of the Premonstratensian order, whom I have mentioned, urged onward the fatal work more than any one else.

[2] Roused by the rumor, he had lately come to the city, and in his white frock was sedulously engaged among the besiegers of the castle, repeating often, "Down with the enemies of Christ!" with loud shouts, and inflaming the warriors by the example of his co-operation; and it is said that, during the days of the siege, before proceeding to the bloody work, he immolated in the morning the unbloody Sacrifice, for he was a priest. To such an extent had he persuaded himself, by his mental blindness, that he was employed on a religious matter, that he labored to persuade others of it; and when the engines were moved forward, he fervently helped with all his strength. Whence it came to pass that, approaching the wall incautiously and not observing a large stone which was falling from above, he was crushed by it; he fell forward, and when he was lifted up, he instantly expired. It thus became manifest that, either by reason of his profession, or of his order, a greater judgment fell upon him than upon any other, for he was the only one of our people who happened miserably to die there. The engines being brought up, the capture of the castle was certain; and it was no longer doubtful that the hour fatal to the besieged was come. During the following night the besiegers rested, rejoicing at the certainty of their approaching victory; but the Jews, strong and unbending through desperation alone, had but little rest, and debated among themselves what was to be done in such an emergency.

[3] There was among them a certain elder, a most famous doctor of the law, according to the letter which killeth, who had come from countries beyond the sea to instruct the Jews in England, as it is said. This man was held in honor among them all, and was obeyed by all, as if he had been one of the prophets. So when at this conjuncture his advice was asked, he replied, "God, to whom we ought not to say, 'Why dost Thou this?' commands us to die now for His law -- and behold our death is at the doors, as ye see; unless, perchance, which be far from us, ye should think that the Holy Law ought to be deserted for the short span of this life, and should choose that which to good and manly minds is worse than any kind of death, that is to say, to live with the greatest disgrace, as apostates, through the mercy of our impious enemies. Since, therefore, we ought to prefer a glorious death to an infamous life, it is plain that we ought to choose the most honorable and easy kind of death: for if we should fall into the hands of the enemy, we should die according to their pleasure, and amidst their mockery. Therefore, let us willingly and devoutly, with our own hands, render up to Him that life which the Creator gave to us, since He now claims it, and let us not wait for the aid of a cruel enemy to give back that which he reclaims. For this, indeed, many of. our people are known to have done laudably in divers tribulations, setting before us a precedent for that choice which is most fitting for us to make." When he had said this, many embraced the fatal advice; but to others this discourse seemed hard.

[4] Then the elder said, "Let those to whom this good and pious counsel is not pleasing, sit apart, cut off from this sacred band: for to us, for the sake of the Law of our fathers, this temporal life has already become vile." Many, therefore, went away, preferring to make trial of the clemency of their enemies, rather than die in this manner with their friends. Soon after, at the suggestion of that mad old man, to prevent their enemies from being enriched by their wealth, the fire consumed their precious vestments, in the sight of all; and their most valuable vessels and other things, which could not perish in the flames, were by an artful kind of scheme prevented from being used again by being thrown into a place which I am ashamed to allude to. When this was done, the roof was set on fire, so that the flames, while a horrid deed was being done -- for they were preparing their necks for the knife -- might slowly gain strength among the solid timber, and deprive of life even those who had departed from the rest through love of life. Then it was decided, by the direction of that man who had grown old in evil days, that the men whose minds were more firm, should kill their wives and children -- that most infamous Joceus, with a very sharp knife, cut the throat of Anna, his most beloved wife, and spared not even his own children. When this had been done by other men also, that most cursed old man cut the throat of Joceus, because he was more honorable than the rest. When all were killed, together with the leader of the crime, the fire which (as it was said) they had lighted when they were about to die, began to burn the interior of the castle. Those, however, who had chosen life, contended as well as they could against the flames, which had been lighted by their own people, in order that they themselves might die with them, though against their will ; and they fenced themselves in certain extreme parts of the castle. in which they would suffer least from the fire. This irrational fury of rational creatures against themselves is truly astonishing; but whoever reads the History of the Jewish War by Josephus understands well enough that madness of this kind, arising from their ancient superstition, has continued down to our own times, whenever any very heavy misfortune fell upon them.

[5] In the morning, when a large multitude of people had assembled together to storm the castle, they found the wretched Jews who had survived standing on the battlements, announcing, in melancholy voice, the massacre of their people, which had taken place in the night; and to give ocular proof of this great sacrifice, they threw the dead bodies over the wall, and cried out to this effect: "Behold the bodies of those unfortunate people, who, in their mad fury, inflicted death upon themselves; and, when dying, set fire to the interior of the castle in order to burn us alive, because we refused to commit the like act, and chose rather to throw ourselves upon the mercy of the Christians. God, however, has preserved us from the fury of our brethren, and from the destruction of the flames, in order that we shall embrace your religion -- for in our trouble we have gained understanding, and acknowledge the truth of Christ; we, therefore, pray your charity, for we are prepared to do that which you usually require, to be cleansed by holy baptism -- to put away our ancient ceremonies, and to be united to the church of Christ. Receive us, therefore, as brethren instead of enemies; and let us live with you in the faith and peace of Christ." While they thus spoke, with tears in their eyes, many of our people looked with deep horror and astonishment upon the mildness of those who were dead, and pitied the survivors; but the chiefs of the confederacy, among whom was one Richard, truly surnamed Malbeste, a most daring fellow, were unmoved by pity for these miserable wretches. They deceitfully addressed kind words to them, and promised the favor they hoped, under the testimony of their faith, in order that they might not fear to come forth; but, as soon as they came out, those cruel swordsmen seized them as enemies, and slaughtered them in the midst of their continual cries for the baptism of Christ.

[6] With regard to these persons, who were thus butchered with savage ferocity, I will affirm, without hesitation, that if, in their entreaty for holy Baptism, there was no fiction, they were baptized with their own blood, and were by no means defrauded of its efficacy; but whether they sought the holy font feignedly or unfeignedly, the cruelty of those murderers is to be execrated. Their first crime, doubtless, was that of shedding human blood like water, without lawful authority; their second, that of acting barbarously, rather through the blackness of malice than the zeal for justice; their third, was that of refusing the grace of Christ to those who sought it; the fourth, that of deceiving those miserable people by telling lies to induce them to come forth to be victims.

[7] When the massacre was complete, the confederates proceeded immediately to the cathedral church and, by violent representations, compelled the terrified wardens to deliver up the acknowledgments of the debts by which the Christians were bound, and which had been deposited there by the Jews, who were the farmers of the royal revenues, having obtained possession of those evidences of detestable avarice, they solemnly committed them to the flames in the midst of the church, and thus freed themselves and many others from their bonds. After these things were done, those among the confederates who had accepted the emblem of the Lord, commenced their intended journey before any inquiry could be instituted; but the rest remained in the county under the apprehension of an inquiry. These events at York occurred at the time of the Passion of our Lord, that is to say, o the day before Palm Sunday [17th March].

Chapter 11:  Of the king's anger against the murderers of the Jews    <to index>

The act committed at York was soon reported to the king beyond the seas, who, after the commotion at London, had granted peace and legal security to the Jews within his realm. He was indignant and enraged, not only on account of the treason against his royal majesty, but for the great injury his revenue had sustained -- for whatever the Jews, who are the king's farmers, possess in goods, appertains to the treasury. A mandate was immediately issued to the bishop of Ely, the king's chancellor and guardian of the realm, ordering condign punishment to be inflicted on the perpetrators of this audacious act. The bishop, a man of fierce disposition, and desirous of glory, proceeded with an army to York, about the time of the solemnities of the Lord's Ascension [3 May], and commenced an inquiry most formidable to the citizens. The principal ringleaders in the sedition, however, fled into Scotland; and the citizens stoutly denied all agency in the tumult for which they were suffering, and which had arisen, neither by their wish, their advice, nor their co-operation; and they pleaded that their scanty numbers had not been able to check the unbridled fury of that undisciplined mob. The chancellor, in the end, accepted pecuniary fines, which were imposed upon each man, according to the amount of his fortune, in lieu of more severe punishment; while the promiscuous and countless multitude, whose irregular zeal had chiefly caused that dreadful outbreak, could not by any means be brought to judgment, or punished. The chancellor then removed the person who presided over the county; and, since he could not execute the king's mandate more efficaciously according to justice, he returned without shedding blood: nor, until this day, has any one been condemned to punishment for that massacre of the Jews.

Chapter 12:  How the king's arrived at Sicily, and how the king of England stormed Messina     <to index>

[1] In the following summer, in the one thousand one hundred and ninetieth year from the delivery of the Virgin, the illustrious kings of France and England commenced their journeys to Jerusalem and, with suitable preparations and a large army, met at Marseilles. After making such a delay there as was necessary, the king of France, in the autumn season, set sail first with his troops and with prosperous gales arrived in Sicily; but the king of England remained at Marseilles some days after the departure of the king of France. At length, the fleet weighed anchor; and, with the army under his command, he ventured upon the sea and with propitious winds arrived at the same island. He who arrived first at Messina -- that most renowned city -- was received with such gladness by the citizens, that he determined to winter there; and he who followed, after landing his forces, also desired to pass the winter there in a social manner, on account of the size of the city and its conveniences of every description. Therefore, he dispatched some of his people forward for that purpose; but the citizens, content with the presence of one king among them, and refusing to be burdened with the entertainment of two great sovereigns, contumeliously drove from the city those whom he had sent forward and killed a few of them in the tumult. At this the king of England was moved to wrath, and he considered that he ought to demand satisfaction of the people of Messina for the injury they had done him; but they, conscious of their own strength, and relying upon the assistance of their noble guests, proudly declined to give any satisfaction.

[2] At this insult the courageous monarch was inflamed to seek revenge; and he commanded his troops to arm and attack the city. In this operation he not only urged forward his men by his command, but he animated them also by his own example; and though the city was valiantly defended for some time by the citizens, as well as by the French, yet he broke into it mightily at last. After he had entered the city as a victor, with the loss of but few of his men, he observed a becoming moderation in his revenge, and mollified the anger of his mind by the pleasure of his triumphant glory. Pacified, therefore, by the tardy satisfaction of the citizens and by the respect which he compelled them to observe, he restrained his impetuosity and desisted from his threats. Soon after, out of regard to the king of France, he marched out of the city, which he willingly resigned to him and his army; and he constructed a fortification outside the walls and arranged his camp there, where he passed the winter with his troops amidst abundance of every description. The king of France, however, considered the attack upon the city that had sheltered him as an insult towards himself, and, leaving out of view the advantage of that hospitality which he had enjoyed, he conceived an implacable rancor against the king of England, which entered even into the marrow of his bones. Though this was concealed for a time, yet it broke out in due season, and became manifest to the whole world, as it will be narrated in its place.

[3] While the kings were thus passing the winter in Sicily, immense bodies of troops, who had assembled from many countries, under the banner of the Lord, were passing the winter in Dalmatia, Istria, and Venice, and were awaiting with eagerness the approach of spring.

Chapter 13:  Of the German expedition, and of the death of the emperor    <to index>

[1] In the meanwhile, Frederick, emperor of Germany, who in the preceding year (that is, in the year one thousand one hundred and eighty-ninth from the delivery of the Virgin), with his son the duke of Swabia, and the forces of Germany, had commenced their march towards Jerusalem, as it is said above. He was conducting his army at a slow pace, on account of the numerous obstacles, through the upper countries. Having passed Pannonia, he proceeded to the dominions of the emperor of Constantinople, as he was desirous to obtain the favor of that Christian monarch in this expedition which was most eminently Christian; but he found him little better than Saladin himself. At length, that Greek (for though the Greeks are Christian, yet they are known to abominate the Latins, not less, nay, even rather more ferociously than the Saracens) -- that Greek, I say, (as it is reported) after Jerusalem was taken, made a treaty with Saladin, that most atrocious enemy of the Christian name, promising that, by land and sea, he would, in his dominions, prohibit the passage of the Latins into Syria. Therefore, when the Latin emperor, by his messengers, sought as a Christian from the Greek emperor another Christian, that which Israel under Moses sought of old time from Sihon, king of the Amorites, "Let us pass through thy country: we will not pass through the fields, or through the vineyards ... we will go by the king's highway ... until we have passed thy borders" [Numbers 20:17]; but that Greek, resembling the impious king in this respect, and being more faithful to Saladin than to Christ, was unwilling to allow the Christian army even to pass through his territories. Whereupon the Latin emperor said to his men, "We seek Saladin, the enemy of Christ; and, behold, one equal to, or rather worse than Saladin, openly stands in the way of those who are zealous for Christ. Let us, then, turn those arms against him that we have assumed against Saladin; and open for ourselves a way with the sword, since we can do nothing else." This was pleasing to all; and in a hostile manner they entered the territory which was under the government of Constantinople, and valiantly attacked that most noble city Thessalonica, which they took; and having reduced the adjacent province under their power, they resolved to winter there.

[2] I certainly am not, by any means, of opinion that this movement and attack upon Christian men can be approved, especially as they were made by Christians who had taken arms against Pagans, although those Christians acted in a manner far from brotherly; neither, on the other side, was it right that Christians should have refused to concede a harmless passage to Christians. Lastly, this is proved by ancient examples, and those taken from the Holy Law. The people of Israel under Moses, on their petition to the king of the Amorites for a free passage (as it has been said) suffered a repulse, and, by the command of the Lord, made an attack upon him, and took possession of his territory. Perhaps our emperor and his men, regarding this precedent, invaded the territory of the Greek emperor, in consequence of the passage that was denied him, when he ought rather, as I think, to have given attention to another precedent. For, it is written, "Moses sent messengers unto the king of Edom, Thus saith thy brother Israel, ... 'Let us pass, I pray thee, through thy country: we will not pass through the fields, or through the vineyards ... we will go by the king's highway, we will not turn to the right hand nor to the left, until we have passed thy borders.' And Edom said unto him, 'Thou shalt not pass by me ...' And the children of Israel said unto him, 'We will go by the high-way: and if I and my cattle drink of thy water, then I will pay for it: there shall be no difficulty about the price, we can pass through so quickly.' And he said, 'Thou shalt not go through ...' Wherefore Israel turned away from him." [Numbers 20:14-21]

[3] Behold, the children of Israel, acting under their great prophet Moses, twice suffered a repulse from their brethren, the sons of Esau, in their very moderate petition for a passage only; and yet they were not impelled by that affront received from a brother to seek revenge, or to open a passage with the sword; but wisely they turned away from their ungrateful brethren, as if they remembered not the injury. But afterwards, in circumstances not dissimilar, they endured one repulse only from the Amorite, who was not of the race of Abraham; and, by the command and aid of the Lord, they broke out in just revenge. Therefore, the Christian emperor would have acted more wisely if he had turned away from the emperor, who, though disobliging, was yet a Christian ; and had sought another passage into Syria, though with much labor and increase of expense: and the event which followed clearly showed this.

[4] The Greek emperor, however, saw that it was no slight act of hostility which had been committed against him by the Latins, and conjectured from this light taste of their ferocity, that worse might again happen, unless he took precautions; therefore, he made a treaty with our emperor, and granted the passage which was demanded: and he made satisfaction, according to justice, for the expenses of the delay which he had caused by having obstructed their passage. So the Latin emperor with his army passed through Constantinople and made a prosperous passage over the strait which is called "The arm of St. George."

[5] On his arrival in Asia Minor, part of which is under the government of Constantinople, while the sultan of Iconium presides over the rest, he soon became terrible to that sultan and the Turks by his mighty acts. Whence it came to pass that this sultan, although he was great and powerful, studied to break the force that threatened him, more by art than by making trial of their strength; and with crafty dissimulation he treated with the emperor about the adoption of the Christian faith; and, through the pious simplicity of the credulous Crusaders, he suspended their advance by frequent messengers and by long discussions. After the cunning of this Gentile had thus deluded our people by his tricks, the Christian army captured the city of Iconium, which was very large and very rich in plunder, which they seized. Soon after, by the arrangement of the emperor, the army was divided into two parts, and stationed in two camps, which were separated by a river that flowed between them. Having committed one division of the army to the command of his son, the duke of Swabia, the emperor devoted the whole of his solicitude to the other division; whereupon, suddenly, by the hidden judgment of God, a most lamentable accident (which no one could have apprehended) deprived the world of a man of much renown. The emperor desiring to visit and consult his son, who was stationed on the other side of the river, mounted his horse, with the intention of fording the stream with a few of his attendants; but he was dissuaded from his purpose by his companions, lest a man of his importance should rashly commit himself to an unknown current. Impelled, however, by fate, he did not obey; and forgetful of his imperial dignity, he spurred his horse, and it leaped forward into the gulf which seemed contemptible through its deceitful shallowness; and while his companions were looking on, but unable to assist him, he was drowned in a moment.

[6] Some, however, say that he went incautiously into the river in the hot weather, for the purpose of cooling himself or of bathing, and that he was suddenly swallowed up by the waves, which were ignorant of the respect due to imperial dignity. Whichsoever of these accounts be true, it is evident that in this petty stream the waters entered in even unto his soul. Oh, the extreme depth of the judgments of God! This man so great and who, by a kind of Divine fervor, had quitted the luxuries and opulence of empire and exposed himself to a thousand perils for Christ's sake -- even he was cut off by all unforeseen and pitiable accident. Nevertheless, so great and so conspicuous was his transgression that perhaps it could not be expiated amid the blandishments of empire; and therefore it became necessary (lest he should incur eternal punishment) that, by the merciful ordinance of the Divinity, he should be more severely chastened in the present life. For indeed, during the time of the venerable pope Alexander, he had been the principal supporter of a fatal schism; and by means of his imperial power, he was for a long time the disturber of the peace of the church. At length, however, openly yielding submission to the truth, he nevertheless did not sufficiently bewail his heinous crime amid the luxuries of a palace. Moreover, lest on this account he should suffer grievous torments after death, or rather that the poignant misfortune of a sudden decease should perfectly wipe away this baleful evil, I believe that this matter was effected through that singular devotion with which, for Christ's sake, he left his kingdom and encountered dangers of such magnitude.

[7] The Christian army was so confounded and grieved at the violent death of the emperor that, losing all their spirits, they seemed on the eve of becoming a prey to their savage adversaries; but taking courage in some degree, they manifested their attachment and obedience to the duke of Swabia, in place of his deceased parent. Taking with him the remains of his father (which, as it is said, were with difficulty found, and rescued from the waters, some days after this most unfortunate accident), he advanced with the army and encountered a host of difficulties and labors. Finally, this immense force, gradually worn down and diminished by battle and disease on its long and tedious march, at last so languished and fainted, through fatigue and want of supplies, that, without performing any memorable exploit, its wretched remains arrived at Palestine, with the above-mentioned duke. After the bones of his father had been buried at Tyre with due solemnity, he joined with all his retinue the Christian armament, which was then besieging Acre, where he shortly afterwards died of disease. Such a termination through the hidden counsels of God, experienced this famous expedition of the emperor of Germany.

Chapter 14:  Of the chancellor's insolence and pride after the king's departure     <to index>

[1] The course of our narrative must now return from the East to our Western clime, and relate the situation of England during the king's absence.

[2] When Richard was departing (as above mentioned) on his Eastern expedition, he had committed his functions in the administration of the kingdom, together with its sinews -- I mean the royal fortresses -- to his chancellor, the bishop of Ely. This prelate, who for audacity and artifice was almost without an equal, having transmitted a great sum of money to Rome, had petitioned also to become the representative of the papal see; and, by an entreaty of this kind, had easily obtained it. Craftily dissembling this circumstance, he called together the bishops and nobility of the kingdom, as though on business relative to the state; and showing them, unexpectedly, the instrument conferring the legation on him, proudly exhibited himself as the representative of the holy see; at which, though numbers were displeased, they were by no means able to resist it. Finally, in order that he might appear to have reached the summit of power and, from being equally conspicuous in state and church, might grieve the eyes of his rivals, he celebrated a general council of England, held in great consternation, at London, with equal pomp and vanity, under the pretext indeed of religion and the mask of ecclesiastical benefit, but, in fact, only for the display of his personal ostentation. This he did so much the more confidently and securely because, as there were then no metropolitans, he had less to fear from the rivalry or indignation of the bishops against him. For the see of York had been vacant for almost ten years, and the new archbishop of that see was resident abroad; and, from the impediments he threw in his way, was unable as yet to obtain convenient consecration. Again, the archbishop of Canterbury, who, by virtue of the prerogative of his see, was the pope's representative in England, had taken the cross of Christ under king Henry, and after the coronation of king Richard had, in pursuance of his vow, proceeded to the East, and arriving at Tyre, had there departed this life, previous to the arrival of the kings.

[3] Thus, the chancellor, every obstacle to his progress in matters too great and wonderful for him being removed, relying on his twofold power, legatine and royal, domineered with most consummate arrogance equally over the clergy and the people. And, as it is written of a certain person, that he used either hand for the right, so also did he, for the readier accomplishment of his designs, make use of either of these powers to supply the deficiency of the other. For, if his secular authority was ineffectual in compelling or restraining any of the powerful laity, he supplied the deficiency by the censure of apostolical coercion; but if, perchance, any of the clergy resisted his will, doubtless he overwhelmed such a one, vainly defending himself according to the canon, by the might of his secular arm. Nor was there any one who could hide himself from his indignation; for the secular must fear the rod or the sword of his apostolical authority; and the ecclesiastic could defend himself by no mode, nor find any shelter against his royal dignify. At length, proud of his power beyond all bounds, that the metropolitan churches, which as yet seemed to mock his authority, might feel his consequence, he proceeded to make himself an object of terror to both of them.

[4] First, he took his journey to York, to whose bishop-elect he was most inimically disposed, on his dispatching a mandate, with intimidations to the clergy of that church to meet him with due solemnity as legate of the holy see, they thought fit to appeal against him: still, however, he paid no deference to this appeal to a higher power, but gave the appellants the option either to comply with his commands, or else, as guilty of treason, to be confined in the king's prison. Owing to this intimidation, they obeyed; and, not even daring to whisper against him, they dissembled their sorrow, and allowed him, as if in triumph, all the honor and glory he required. The precentor of this church, however, had just before gone out of the way, that he might not be a spectator of what must shock his feelings. Having discovered this, and raging against that absentee as though he had been a rebel, he, in his implacable fury, robbed him of all his effects by the hands of his attendants. Having plundered the archbishopric and placed its revenues in the exchequer, this noble hero went his way; and soon after, as no one dared longer oppose him, he claimed an equal triumph over the church of Canterbury. Thus, having humiliated both the metropolitan sees, he made use of them at his pleasure.

[5] Finally, the laity at that time felt him to be a king, and more than a king in England -- the clergy, a pope and more than a pope; and, indeed, both of them an intolerable tyrant. For from the accession to his twofold power, he assumed a double tyranny; and abstaining only from his accomplices and associates, to all others he was alike unsparing, not merely through desire of money, but even from the pleasure of domineering. His pomp in almost everything exceeded that of a king. After the manner of Eastern princes, as if perpetually on the watch, he was desirous of having guards about his chamber. His progresses were attended by a thousand horse, and sometimes more; under pretence of his legation, he extorted entertainment from all the monasteries throughout England, and from such small ones its could not support the burden of his reception, he exacted a certain sum, that is to say, eight or five marks, with which they were to buy off the charge of his entertainment. As for the larger ones, he preyed upon them like a locust. The revenues of the bishopric of Ely are known to be indeed ample, but what was their amount to supply the immoderate profusion of its bishop? By the prodigality of his expenses, he exhausted not only the king's treasury, but also whatever he could scrape together from the kingdom, the monasteries, and the churches, by any means, whether by himself or his creatures. He had appointed rulers over every province, more for the purpose of destruction than protection; the most abandoned ministers of his rapacity, who would spare neither clergy, nor layman, nor monk, nor show any regard to them if it interfered with the advantage of the chancellor: for so he was called, though he was a bishop; but of a truth, there was little or nothing of the bishop in him; whereas, as chancellor, he was notorious and terrible throughout all England.

[6] Moreover, he directed that the rulers of provinces, in order to overawe the inhabitants, should, under pretence of public security, as if to repel or check the audacity of robbers, have under their command armed bands of savage barbarians, continually on the scent, by whose lawless and unrestrained violence innumerable outrages and enormities were committed in the different counties. And truly, as he could not trust himself to the nobility of the realm, who execrated his insolence and pride, he was careful to get over to his party numbers of powerful and noble persons, by uniting them in marriage to his female relations. For what man of quality was there at that time unmarried, or desirous of procuring a wife for his son or nephew, who would not with open arms accept the offer of one of the chancellor's relations (of whom he had brought over from Normandy multitudes for this purpose), and anxiously for an honorable alliance, under the hope of high advancement? When, therefore, by these means, he had allied to himself many of the nobility and had subdued others by intimidation, or soothed them by artifice and assiduity, his only object of dread was John, the king's brother, as he was far more powerful than the others, and expected to become the successor to the kingdom, should the king, perchance, not survive his laborious and perilous undertaking; for his return was not uncertain, but from very probable causes was hardly to be expected.

[7] Lastly, lest from the likelihood of the king dying abroad and John succeeding in due course, his own power should cease, he determined, it is said, to have recourse to artifice, in order that John, though of age, should not succeed his brother, but that he might lengthen out the period of his authority by introducing a successor of tender age. Wherefore, dispatching his two brothers to the king of Scotland, he requested that he would unite with him in firmest league to set Arthur the Breton, Richard's grand-nephew, over the kingdom of England; more especially as the succession of the realm most rightfully belonged to him, as being the son of Geoffrey, the king's elder brother; protesting that the king, in letters transmitted to him from Marseilles or Sicily, had designated Arthur, his nephew, as successor to the kingdom, in case he himself should not return; and that he had commanded that the kingdom should be reserved for him (he being now little more than five years of age) until he came to man's estate. This secret, however, though only agitated in secret whispers, between these two powerful personages, was not long concealed from John. Dissembling the indignation which he had conceived with wary caution for a time, he busied himself in prudently gaining over to his party all whom he could influence, and in eluding artifice by artifice.

Chapter 15:  The reasons why the king sent the archbishop of Rouen from Sicily into England     <to index>

While such things were taking place in England through the overbearing insolence of an individual, a full account of them, through the faithful relation of various persons, reached the ears of the king, during his winter's residence in Sicily; upon which he immediately dispatched into England Walter, archbishop of Rouen, a man of prudence and modesty, who was wintering with him; appointing him, by the authority of a royal instrument, the associate and colleague of the chancellor in the management of everything, and strictly commanding him that, in this administration, nothing should be transacted without his concurrence. He also sent with him Hugh, surnamed Bardulf, a discreet and distinguished man, to be governor of the province of York, which the chancellor's brother was ravaging in a barbarous manner. Nevertheless, the chancellor, in the plenitude of his own confidence, set the royal mandate at defiance, alleging that he was best acquainted with the king's intentions, to which he ought to pay more regard than to sounds devoid of sense, that is, letters surreptitiously obtained. And when the archbishop alluded to a meditated journey to Canterbury, to fill up the vacancy in that church, as he had been instructed by the king, the chancellor, already aspiring to the honor of that see, quickly divested him of his solicitude in this respect, furiously threatening that he should quickly repent his presumption, should he even attempt to go thither. In consequence of this, the archbishop of Rouen continued in England without employment. The chancellor, however, not enduring a colleague in the management of the realm, devoured the kingdom like a ravenous wild beast. This most audacious man, however, did not long exercise his tyranny unmolested; for difficulties gradually sprung up around him, chiefly through the contrivance and instigation of John, the king's brother, from the causes before mentioned; but the origin of the first commotion against him was as follows.

Chapter 16:  On what account John, the king's brother, opposed the chancellor     <to index>

[1] Gerard de Camville, a wealthy nobleman, had purchased from the king at a great price the custody of the castle of Lincoln, which belonged to his wife by hereditary right, and had also bought the government of the adjacent province for a certain period. But while the king was occupied in his Eastern expedition, and hardly any one expected his return, the chancellor having nearly the whole of the royal fortresses throughout England in his power, was anxious also to have the castle of Lincoln at his disposal. So, framing a reason, real or pretended, he first despoiled the aforesaid Gerard of his government, and shortly after commanded him to resign the fortress. Pressed by this emergency, he proceeded to John and, relying on his favor, set the order at defiance. The chancellor, indignant and purposing to besiege the castle, hastily collected an army from his surrounding provinces; but as he suspected many of the nobility, and justly conjectured that they were more inclined towards John, he sent for a foreign force, which was allured by the greatness of his pay. Their arrival, however, was not awaited by this man, furious and impatient of delay; for, entering the city of Lincoln with vast forces, he obstinately laid siege to the castle, and employed vast labor and expense in the rapid formation of engines.

[2] While he was thus engaged in carrying on the siege, John, with his party, suddenly made an attack on the royal fortresses of Nottingham and Tykehill; and finding them slenderly supplied with men and victuals, he carried them at the end of two days. With increased confidence, he then told the haughty opponent that he must either raise the siege and depart, or otherwise be fully prepared to receive his attack immediately. The chancellor, aware that many of the nobility who were apparently on his side favored John in their hearts, retreated with confusion, and learnt, after a few days, that one of his horns was broken off, that is, that his legatine office was at an end by the death of the Roman pontiff. Alarmed at this, through the mediation of his friends, he held a solemn conference with John and made peace with him on what terms he could. Soon after, however, learning that the foreign armament, which he had sent for, had landed in England and was approaching, he resumed courage, and broke the treaty, protesting that either himself or John must be ousted from England; implying that, such a limited space was all too small to contain two men so great and so aspiring. At length, however, peace was concluded between them on new conditions; for (as it is said) he satisfied John by abandoning Arthur's interest, and gave security to restore the royal fortresses to John, as the rightful heir, if perchance the king should not return from abroad. After these transactions, John remained quiet for a time; but the chancellor, proceeding with his accustomed pride, did not lay aside the tyrant: for, like another Herod, he feared John alone, and hearing him did many things unwillingly, though it was evident that he heard him with awe.

Chapter 17:  Of the capture of the archbishop of York, and the expulsion of the chancellor     <to index>

[1] In the meantime, Geoffrey, archbishop-elect of York, resided abroad and, reversing the established order of things, previous to pontifical consecration, he asked and received the metropolitical ensign, that is, the pall from the Roman pontiff. Moreover, after receiving the pall, his consecration was delayed for a considerable time, as a number of his enemies, and principally the chancellor aforesaid, impeded him by various objections. Nevertheless, through the perseverance of his chaplain, Simon the Apulian, a man of prudence and learning, he carried his point at last; and obtaining a bull from pope Celestine, who had succeeded Clement, to the archbishop of Tours, to consecrate him, if no appeal or other impediment should interpose, he was formally consecrated at Tours, in the month of August, in the year one thousand one hundred and ninety-one from the delivery of the Virgin. When this was known by his capital enemy, the chancellor, he presently, in a tyrannical manner, invaded the possessions of the archbishop of York by means of his satellites; and, with the exception of what could not be carried away, this daring pilferer, or rather plunderer, swept off the rest. He also commanded the seaports to be carefully guarded, that the archbishop might not enter England without molestation or have access to his church: but he, nevertheless, approaching boldly, landed at Dover, where however he encountered a greater storm on shore than he had experienced at sea. For the governor of Dover castle, who had married the chancellor's sister, forbade his proceeding further after he had landed, and apprized the chancellor of his arrival with the greatest possible dispatch. By no means dissembling the fury of his irritated mind, he ordered the archbishop to be stripped of everything, to be dragged from the monastery of Dover, where he had taken up his temporary residence and to be confined in the castle. When the officers dispatched by the tyrant arrived, they plundered his carriages, baggage, and whatever else belonged either to him or to his chaplains; and finding him in the church, they paid neither reverence to his illustrious rank, nor to the sanctity of the place; but violently tearing him from the holy altar, and ignominiously dragging him from the building, together with his chaplains, they shut him up in the castle, and truly made him a prisoner.

[2] The report of this enormity, spreading rapidly, and flying, as it were, upon the wings of the wind, in a short time was prevalent throughout all England. The nobility were indignant with the chancellor, the commonalty execrated him, and all united in detestation of the tyrant. John was grievously concerned at the captivity of his brother, and was inflamed (and most justifiably) with desire, not only for his liberation, but also to avenge him. In consequence, he made ready for this purpose, by hastily collecting troops from every district which belonged to him, as well as a considerable number from Wales. These were soon after joined by the bishop of Winchester, very many barons, some earls, and a copious armament. Nor were the bishops of Bath and Chester wanting in this business, who but a little before had been the principal associates and supporters of the chancellor; but, offended with his overbearing manners and inordinate pride, together with, or rather before others, they raged against him both in speech and in action.

[3] The chancellor, however, urged at last by vexation for having kindled such a flame against himself, through his intemperate conduct, ordered the captive prelate to be released. On his liberation he came to London, and received a compensation for the injurious outrage committed upon him in the abundant kindness and good offices of various persons; but the indignation which his detention had excited in the minds of the prelates and nobility could not be proportionally allayed by his liberation; for their spirits once roused were not to be tranquilized by this kind of satisfaction; but the wishes and inclinations of all united in laudable perseverance to break the horns of this rhinoceros. The chancellor, being of sturdy and inflexible spirit and forced to activity by pressing necessity, surrounded his person with an army of friends and foreign soldiers and made a stand in a plain, not far from Windsor, ready to receive the enemy, if, perchance, they should think proper to advance. Alarmed, however, and terrified at the number and confidence of the approaching army, he began to retreat. Soon after, some of the nobility, who appeared to be on his side, going over to John's party, although he might have found a safe place of retreat in the adjacent royal fortress of Windsor, yet, being harassed, and not knowing what to do, and pressed by the enemy on the rear, he fled with his whole party to London. Here entering the city, he humbly entreated the citizens -- to whom but a little before he had been an object of dread -- not to desert him in this emergency; but remembering his former arrogance and brutality, they manifested their favor to John in preference. Disappointed, therefore, in his hopes, he did all that remained for him to do, and took shelter from the face of the approaching foe in the royal Tower with all his adherents, who were so numerous, that, within the confined space of a single fortress, their own multitude was far more prejudicial to them than the valor of the indignant enemy without. The interior of the Tower rocked with the pressure of the pent-up mass, soon to disgorge those whom it had taken in to betray, rather than to defend. At length, after one night, he, who was just before a rhinoceros, but now a man again, went out to John and the other assailants, and by his humble address obtained leave for the besieged to depart. As for himself, after having given up the Tower, as well as the other royal fortresses throughout England, he proceeded to Dover, degraded and disgraced, to the husband of his sister.

[4] Here, then, might be contemplated a man, who, a little before, not content with human greatness, but almost thinking to exalt his throne above the stars of heaven and to ascend beyond the clouds, bore the disgrace of his overthrow in such a manner that even Sicilian tyrants could not find a greater torment than a mind like his. Being a bishop, he ought to have retired to the management of his own cathedral, had his disgrace produced in him a sober understanding; yet, on the contrary, after remaining some time at Dover, he was anxious to go abroad, as if unable to endure his degradation in England, or certainly for the sake of more freely planning his schemes of vengeance in another country. Fearing, however, that he should be arrested, he discovered a stratagem of exquisite art, whereby to elude every obstacle. Having long since put off the episcopal character, both in mind and merit, he divested himself of the habit also; and, after the custom of the effeminate, he adapted most disgracefully to his limbs, which were not only those of a man, but even of a bishop, a female dress, a thing never before heard of; and covering his head and the greater part of his face with a veil, he walked about amidst the multitude on the shore, like a delicate woman, having a roll of linen under his left arm, as if for sale, and in his right carrying a measure, thinking that through this disguise he should escape all observation, and that there would be no obstacle to his embarkation with the rest of the passengers. But being accidentally recognized and exposed, the veil was torn off, and he was beaten by the surrounding mob as a detected cheat, in a very ignominious and unepiscopal manner. Afterwards, he was brought before the magistrate of the place, and detained until it should be known what steps the nobility of the realm would take in this affair.

[5] On learning what had happened, John exulted with the feelings of an enemy, and was anxious to substantiate some charge for his further degradation; but the prelates, justly ashamed that the person of a bishop should have encountered such a disgrace, labored with ecclesiastical energy for his release. He was, therefore, released; and outwardly dissembling, as far as he was able, his inward agony, he went abroad.

Chapter 18:  Of the settlement of the kingdom after the chancellor's expulsion, and his fruitless attempts    <to index>

[1] On the expulsion of the tyrant, who had caused the disturbances in the kingdom, the bishops and nobles, together with John, assembled at London and began to deliberate on the settlement of the kingdom. First of all, having sworn fidelity to king Richard (who, for Christ's sake, was on a foreign expedition), they delivered the management of the kingdom, by common consent, to the archbishop of Rouen, the person whom the king had dispatched from Sicily to England for this very purpose; and having removed the officers of the late tyrant, they determined on the better government of the province. Then England received peace in all her borders and began under her new masters to be properly governed; since many of the evils which had sprung up and flourished under the tyrant were cast forth with him, according to the saying of Solomon, "Cast forth the scorner, and contention shall go out; yea, strife and reproach shall cease" [Proverbs 22:10]. Moreover, the persons, by whose laudable activity this security had been obtained for England, not ignorant of that man's artifices, and that he would take care to be beforehand and inflame the king, though so far distant, with lies prepared for his purpose, deemed it necessary to declare the whole truth of these circumstances to Richard by letters, attested by the seals of many persons.

[2] Again, it seemed fit to the archbishop of Rouen, who was the principal manager, and the bishops of the realm, that a pastor should be quickly provided for the vacant primacy (to which the tyrant had aspired, and perhaps did still aspire), in order that his hopes should be disappointed. The chapter of Canterbury being summoned, according to custom, to elect their future metropolitan, solemnly chose the bishop of Bath -- but, in a short time, even before he was enthroned, he departed this life, and by his decease revived the dying hopes of the chancellor. Being now resident abroad, he poured his lamentations into the ears of pope Celestine, through his emissaries, to the injury and disgrace of the king, who was in pilgrimage on account of Christ; he bewailed his own expulsion, and John's invasion of the kingdom; and being re-appointed legate of the holy see, as he had been under pope Clement, he obtained a most formidable bull for the coercion of John, and the restoration of England to its former state. This document, however, was eluded by the caution of the bishops of England and it failed of its effects. Thus, discovering that while John was adverse to him, nothing could be done, through means of secret messengers he tampered with him; and gaining his favor, either by the actual payment or promise of a large sum of money, he came confidently over to England.

[3] Landing at Dover, as soon as he touched the shore which he had such fatal cause to remember, as though to wipe off the disgrace which he had there incurred, he displayed the ensigns of his legation, and shone forth conspicuously. Still, he proceeded no further, but took up his residence with his brother-in-law, until he could learn whether his enemies, swayed either by regal or apostolical dread, would receive him; as he had now appeased John, the most formidable of them all. For this cause he dispatched messengers to London, and letters to the queen (the king's mother), who had lately come from Sicily, and was then accidentally resident at London with the archbishops of Rouen and York, and her son John, and many others, bishops as well as nobles. But here he found matters otherwise than he hoped. For when John dissembled with all possible caution his collusion with him, the truth was discovered from his irresolute conduct; and having been reproached for it by his mother and the rest, he yielded at length, and subscribed to the general decree. In consequence, the whole of them, together with the queen, sending men of influence to the chancellor, commanded him with threats quickly to depart from the shores of England, for he was the disturber of the kingdom, and a public foe. At length, terrified and confounded, he retired and held his peace, groaning until a proper season.

[4] But since, in our late narration, we have been relating how the affairs of England stood during the king's pilgrimage abroad, we now come to particularize the events of his foreign expedition, as we have beard them from those who were present.

Chapter 19:  Of the progress of the kings from Sicily, and the difficulties of the Christian army at Acre    <to index>

[1] While the illustrious kings of France and England were wintering in the island of Sicily, with the intention of pursuing their journey in the spring, queen Eleanor (forgetful of her advanced age and thinking nothing either of the length or difficulty of the undertaking, or the severity of the winter, when led on, or rather forcibly attracted by maternal affection) came from the extremity of the earth to her son in Sicily, bringing with her, as his destined wife, the daughter of the king of Navarre, a lady of distinguished beauty and modesty. It appeared to be quite as idle as unusual to think of pleasure amid warlike preparations, and shortly after to take with him to the wars the wife he had espoused. Still, this circumstance was palliated in a youthful prince, not only on the score of utility, but also of prudence. For, even at such a juncture, when he had no son to succeed him, it was useful to provide issue; and as he was frail by reason of his time of life, and his luxurious mode of living, and exposed to danger for the sake of Christ, he was wise in adopting such counsel as furnished him with a competent remedy against the crying sin of fornication. So he married the princess who came with his mother, purposing that she should accompany him amid the perils of the ocean, and of the battle, together with his own sister, a noble widow, the widow of the illustrious William, formerly king of Sicily. She had sold absolutely to king Tancred the very ample property of her noble husband, which she possessed in Sicily or Calabria, under the title of dower, in order that she might accompany her brother, and had, by these means, vastly increased his treasures.

[2] At length, the long-expected month of March arrived: the sea was calm, the sky serene. A vast concourse of Christians, who had left their homes ere winter began and passed that season in different provinces, purposing to proceed into Syria, now embarked with joy and alacrity. The aforesaid kings also weighed anchor with their forces -- the king of France preceding the king of England, who designed to follow him in a few days. He arrived, after a prosperous voyage, in Syria, about the octaves of Easter [April 1] and, with all his troops, joined the Christian army, which (as it has been said above) had now for nearly the space of two years laid siege to the city of Ptolemais. The spirit of this army, which was employed on a matter of such importance, and for so long a time had been exposed to the open air, was as laudable as astonishing, as well as its perseverance. It was blunted neither by accident, nor peril, nor inconveniences, nor labors, from driving their most atrocious enemies to the destruction they deserved.

[3] This city, which had formerly been advanced by the Christians to the highest pitch of celebrity and was of considerable strength, after it had fallen into the hands of the most impious Saladin (in which, in proportion as his efforts were small, so much more manifest was the judgment of God), had many additional and stronger walls erected for its defense at the prudent and lavish expense of the same tyrant, as though it was to receive the first attack of the Christians. All its defenders were chosen men, and there was not a cowardly or feeble person within it; and if it happened that any one was incapacitated for service, he was immediately changed. On account of the harbor, which lay close to the city, being possessed by the Pagans, the assailing Christians could not prevent them from getting every necessary supply, by seizing the opportunity of favorable winds and seasons. The besiegers exhausted their art and money in vain in the formation of different kinds of engines; for when advanced to the walls, they were consumed by the enemy by a species of fire which is called Greek. Fire of this composition is said to be of singular power, and not even to yield to the opposing element of water. Again, the city possessed abundant supplies, while frequently our army suffered from extreme want; for our people, in consequence of the Turkish army keeping perpetual watch, and preventing all egress, were unable to make excursions into the adjacent region, for the sake of obtaining forage and sustenance for the army. This extensive Christian force, therefore, was supported solely by supplies brought by sea; and when these, through any accident, became scarce, it wasted away with the pangs of hunger. So great a number perished daily, through want or disease, that the army sensibly diminished, and appeared as though it must shortly be totally consumed. Still, by God's providence, the multitude was not even moderately lessened, though subjected to such a considerable daily diminution; for even greater numbers than those, who every day were taken to eternal rest from their labor in Christ's service, came out of the Christian districts, and Christ, by calling away the veterans, so renovated His army by a fresh supply of soldiers, that the gain exceeded the loss.

[4] Moreover, certain domestic evils, at the suggestion of the devil, were serviceable to the enemy, in proportion to their increase among our party. For Guy, formerly king of Jerusalem, and the marquis of Mont Ferrat, disagreeing from the cause before mentioned, had joined the army, and settled themselves in places distinct from each other, as divided, indeed, in place as in inclination. Even during the heat of the siege they had drawn many followers after them; insomuch, that while many of the chiefs espoused different sides, the holy order of Hospitallers of Jerusalem became split into two parties according to their several feelings. From this opposition among the leaders the army became less effective, and the Christian cause made but little progress. Again, it is said that the infection of avarice had tainted some of our princes, sums of money being clandestinely sent to them by Saladin, to tempt them to relax their efforts at the time when they would have been most efficient.

[5] Such causes, therefore, combined in operating against the design in view; our army exhausted its efforts in vain for a considerable time in attempting the subjugation of this city. But the king of France, arriving with a fresh supply, increased the confidence of the desponding; and after that time they applied to the business with greater energy and exertion. At length, the king of France zealously favoring the marquis, and declaring more that the person who had saved only a remnant was preferable, in point of governing the Christian state, to him who had destroyed it, for a time weakened the party who adhered to Guy.

Chapter 20:  By what means the king of England obtained possession of the island of Cyprus     <to index>

[1] The king of England having continued some days in Sicily after the departure of the king of France, at length trusted himself with his forces, and a far greater retinue, to the deceitful winds, having in his company a great number of galleys, as well as ships of burden; for he had not been indolent during his winter sojourn, but had employed that leisure season in collecting the necessary supplies for his army, and in completing engines for the war. By the predeterminate provision of God, however, as it afterwards appeared, a sudden tempest drove the shattered fleet on the island of Cyprus, as if that it might be reassembled by the faithful and safe hospitality of its Christian inhabitants and be soothed by their attentions.

[2] But they encountered a greater tempest in the port which they had wished for, than on the raging ocean; for the tyrant who had now for many years oppressed this island with his barbarous sway, and had there usurped the title of emperor, being in league with Saladin, the enemy of the Christian race, and, though called a Christian, more faithful to him than to Christ, hastened forward with his army; and seizing the first who came into port, more cruel than the waves which had driven them thither, he treated them with barbarity; and when he had despoiled them of all their effects, he hardly deemed them worthy of life. Some also he shut up in prison, to be consumed by hunger; threatening, with terrific voice, to treat the king, who was shortly expected, in the same manner. Aware of this circumstance, and justly roused to vengeance, he entered the harbor with all his fleet. The tyrant was ready to receive him, and the battle began with fury on either side. The Greek effeminacy, however, could not long withstand the impetuosity of the Latins. The tyrant was overcome and, while attempting to fly, fell into the hands of the enemy; his army was dispersed and the city adjoining the port was taken. The king at first was inclined to treat the tyrant with lenity; and on his promising whatever might be demanded for his release, he entered into covenant with him, and gave him his liberty; but when set at liberty he violated the treaty and added perfidy to his former atrocities. Repenting of his ill-timed clemency, the king determined on seeking out and hunting down the renegade. He in vain attempted to collect his force and assemble his army, and fled from the face of his pursuer; but, at length, he was found by the king in a certain monastery, where he lay concealed, for he was betrayed by some of the islanders, by whom he was deservedly hated; and then he was seized, and confined with the chains which he so richly deserved. When orders were given to put fetters on him, he is reported to have said, that if bound with iron chains he should expire. To which the king replied, "He speaks well; and as he is of noble race, I do not wish him to die; but, however, that he may live without doing mischief, let him be bound in silver chains."

[3] Soon after, the whole island, harassed by his barbarous conduct, voluntarily submitted to the rule and service of king Richard, resigning to him all the cities and fortresses, as well as the tyrant's ample treasures, together with his only daughter. Having prosperously concluded the affair, he celebrated with great pomp this conquest, with his victorious troops, during several days in his newly-acquired kingdom; carefully devoting these magnificent spoils to the furtherance of the Christian expedition.

[4] These matters were not concealed from the Christian army which was besieging Ptolemais and which anxiously awaited his arrival; but the report of his glorious enterprise, which demanded congratulation rather than blame, excused his unavoidable delay. Continuing, however, rather more than two months in Cyprus and arranging matters of great importance in so short a period, he summoned his high-spirited forces to embark for Syria. Therefore, having put the island into that fitting state which his inclinations and the nature of the case required, and having properly settled all things, he went out of the harbor with favoring winds; and, as he was hastening in a straight course for Ptolemais, he espied, at a distance, a vessel of very great burden, which had been dispatched by Saladin to carry copious supplies to the besieged of that city. On finding this to be the case, he ordered her to be attacked. But when, on account of the enormous magnitude and the valor or her crew -- who fought, as it were, from a lofty citadel -- she could not easily be taken, a quick mode of conquering her was sought by the king's command, though with the loss of her cargo; for, by a certain contrivance, she was bored through under water. Thus, the sea having been secretly let in through the apertures, she gradually subsided with the weight and at length sunk to the bottom, with all her lading; the whole cargo was thus lost, with part of her crew -- the remainder, by leaping on board the enemies' ships, wisely preferred trusting themselves to the foe, rather than the deep -- the royal fleet, also, with safety and with exultation, reached the wished-for shore.

Chapter 21:  Of the causes of the difference which arose between the kings at Acre     <to index>

[1] The illustrious king of England, departing from Cyprus, after Pentecost [13 May], landed a few days before the festival of St. John the Baptist [24 June], with all his forces at Ptolemais (now commonly called Acre), and there he was received by all the chiefs and the whole army with a degree of joy proportionable to the anxiety with which he bad been looked for. His surpassing glory, however, had already begun to vex the king of France, and he could with difficulty conceal the venomous workings of his soul on beholding himself far inferior in strength and resources; while Richard, from the extent of his force and wealth and the celebrity of his successes, was proudly conspicuous above him, and more favorably regarded by the army; and whatever was now to be carried into effect, seemed to be only awaiting his pleasure.

[2] "Lord Jesus, sower of good, didst Thou not sow good seed in the hearts of these two princes, as in thine own field? Whence, then, had that field of thine tares so soon? Surely an enemy hath done this -- the enemy of mankind, envious of the zealous purpose of the Christian people and desirous of frustrating such great labors undertaken in Thy service. The good seed of holy fervency, which Thine hand had sowed in the hearts of princes, to make them for Thy sake relinquish the most opulent kingdom, and exchange on Thine account the luxuries of a palace for labors and perils, have been overpowered by the pestilential tares of rivalry and contention, by which such good seed, and sown by a hand so good, m