Belt and spur


Material Information

Belt and spur stories of the knights of the Middle Ages from the old chronicles
Physical Description:
xii, 298 p., 16 leaves of plates : col. ill. ; 19 cm.
Seeley, E. L ( Emma Louisa )
Scribner & Welford ( Publisher )
Strangeways & Sons ( Printer )
Scribner and Welford
Place of Publication:
New York
Strangeways and Sons
Publication Date:


Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Chivalry -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Middle Ages -- History -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Knights and knighthood -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Kings and rulers -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Biographies -- 1883   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1883
Biographies   ( rbgenr )
collective biography   ( marcgt )
non-fiction   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- New York -- New York
England -- London


Statement of Responsibility:
with sixteen illustrations.
General Note:
"Third thousand."
General Note:
Frontispiece and plates illustrated in colors by Hanhart Lith.
Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management:
All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier:
aleph - 002237286
notis - ALH7770
oclc - 33117103
System ID:

Full Text
Err' - '"-"' 'X.. . r4 - -'-... ..,-rr-" i ::
.. .. .. .... . . .- . . .. .-.-. ..
- *j',", -"**i-'- '. -" .-
- . . . .. .,,_
.-*9-o. -.-. ..
.. .t.% T .
; I. t.
;...;;: ; .. (-v- '
,. -- ;,:i,.. .- ""

*S* *S~ *O. ... ..,.'..%.... -.I.
,: ..3_ -'-;

7 -- ..

." ."
S~' '? .
--' _~~--- - _,. -... ...-.. .: . ;." j'


,. ,74

-I---",;..-. ,. .. '

t ....'r
;.:I .. .. --~ -.~~~ : '~ ,, .:

".. . 0~A -

,.. ",. 3../ 4
i':~~;' 2 .'-_t

:;'. ,[:.'

'- -; ,. -
I .;g

*~: F

1 ,. , . . ,, ... .

I. *'

"-.4.I 1
-. 47~

o< -; ., .. 4:. 1., .= ,, . ,' -L'-
.. ..-4
::~~~. (."" '. '' ; ".- .- "
: -+ .. .:., :": : ?. ... '7. :;
"'" ;, ~::, ..., .. ": .. .. .U,'':; -
.!'; :- -; ,':-.: -. .. . .-,.i: .. . .., ,< ..

~c -. ;i Y t .... ,..:
S -. : .: ... ",. ".--, -. ", . .- .
L._ -: ,:--; : ': '':._, . . .. -" " ";
: ,: -.. . __Z: -:-, -- _- _.-,..,. -= .. .. ,_ __. ,; ., : .-. .. '.-. ,.
S. : [ ,.'-: ...,,,._-..!o% '. : -,,. .'" -.,- -.,. .. "- :,,t
a - . .., .. . ::, .- .. .- ... -r .' . -.. ...... .. '....,-.,,-
.: ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ... :. .. ..... -....

.. .. .. .
... ... -. .. .;-, ,, ;-,, . .. -. .
S.... ,, .,, ;
"--.:. :.. . [. ... . . .. ..- ,., ,
;:-- :' -'---",--<- T-,.-" .'..""' -""
;r- f1- ., ', :,; -. '.". ,- .- -r.' .,.- .",\ '. .'.'
"-' I.''- --- { .. .. . ,o..' ,.ll ".I " -'-" :,.
"--;: -'.- "..'<-'- -- %', ." ." 'b .: .....- ..'-. ;,r. .
:,..;-.-t I. : .' >, ; .: ... :. ,
,. ..o .,o __ ,.. ,. ... . ... .... :. 1 ... .. o.., -` .,:

,. ..:...: ... .. .. : I... ,, ... ... ..-., ..,. o ,

"" L'." : .E "' ':: l .I "' .

1. o.- "
".-lf~;lr; ,o- .' ,
..i. ,,-

.~ ...

" "- ~ "i": ; ' .: ,"- . .
:i, = -. .' .. '

S... '. ., .: . -, .- ...'.
--, .. : : ., '. :
.-: .. . % : ., ,-
: "1 """ "2 -'. .;: >
""~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~~ {- :" .,4.. 't


The Baldwin Library

T .






n! !
,9 H,


~~ nL

II r (It I ,f




,0 T. BO0 ,



ftorift of tfe &nifgFt" of tbe 9f)ibble Age

from the 01b Cbronfctle

'The heraudes left hir priking up and doun.
Now ringen trompes loud and clarioun.
Ther is no more to say, but est and west
In gon the speres sadly in the rest;
In goth the sharpe spore into the side.
Ther see men who can just, and who can ride.
Ther shiveren shaftes upon sheldes thicke;
He feleth thurgh the herte-spone the price.
Up springen speres twenty foot on highte;
Out gon the swerdes as the silver brighte'
CHAUCER. The Knighztes Tale

With Sixteen Illuminations




How the young King Henry weznt away to the King of
France, and how the Bretonu Barons rebelled against
their King 23
How King Willi;lmz raised an army and entered North-
umberland 27
How the Earl of Leicester came into England 34
fHow King William of Scotland came again into Eng-
land 38
How King William was taken Prisoner 45
How the tidings were brought to King Henry . 49
How Saladin took the Holy City, and how Kin Richard
set ot on a Crusade 54
Of te taking of tie City of Miessina, and the coming of
the Princess Berengaria 56
Of the coming of Richard to Cyprus . 6
Of the marriage of Richard and Berengaria, and the
conquest of C)yruzs 63


Of the coming of Richard to Acre, and the taking of the
city 67
Of the departztre of the King of France, and of the
march of the army 70
Of the battle of Arsur, and the wonderful victory of the
Christians 7
How William de Pratelles gave himself u for the King,
and of the deeds of the Earl of Leicester . 76
Of the rebuilding of Ascalon, and the discord among the
Christians 79
How the Marquis Conrad was chosen King, and how
he was slain by two young men 82
How King Richard took Darum and prepared to go
up to Jerusalem. 85
How Saladin came against 7ofpia, and of the admir-
able deeds of King Richard .. 90
How King Richard made peace with Saladin for three
years, and set forth to return into his own land 94

How Guarin of Metz won the love of Melette of the
White Tower .. 97
How Fulk Fitz Warine saved the life of Sir Joce de
Dynan 100
How Fulk Fitz Warine lost Whittington 103
How Fulk the younger angered Prince John, and how
he, when he became king, refused Fulk justice 104
How Sir Fulk and his brothers hid in the woods, and
the King afpointed a hundred knights to take them 107
How Sir Fulk married Dame Maud e dCaus, and
slew a Knight named Sir Piers de Bruville 112
How Sir Fulk went to the Prince of Wales 116


Of Sir Audulf de Bracy and John de Rampaigne I19
How Sir Fulk and his brothers went cover the sea to
the King of France 122
How Sir Fulk took Ki;ng John prisoner in the forest of
Windsor 125
How Sir William Fitz Warine was rescued 129
How the King made peace with Sir Fulk and gave him
back his lands, and how Sir Fulk died and was
buried ... 131



Of the En/erprise of the three Knzghts 181
Of the First Day . 186
Of the Second Day. 193
Of the Third Day 195
Of the Fourth Day 197

Of Owen Glendower and the Earl Douglas 202
Of Henry Percy and Shrewsbury Field . 209

Of the Siege of Harfeur 220
How the King marched through the land 226


Of the Battle of Agincourt . . 229
Of the entry of the King into London 233

How Sir Jacques challenged James Douglas 260
Of the Lists of Stirling . 264
Of an English Squire who came to Bruges to fight
with SirJacques 271
GUNDY .284



















THE following stories of battles and tournaments
have been drawn from the pages of the old chroni-
cles, and are told as the chronicler tells them;
sometimes in an abridged and condensed form, but
as far as possible, in the spirit and style of the
The story of Cceur de Lion's Crusade is taken
from the 'Itinerary of Richard the First,' by Geoffrey
Vinsauf. The deeds of the Scottish Knights in the
ieign of Edward the Third are related by Jean Le
Bel, the chronicler whose work was so largely
borrowed by Froissart. The Jousts of St. Inghel-
berth are described by Froissart himself. It is
Henry the Fifth's chaplain who tells of his sove-
reign's achievements in France; and Chastelain, the
Burgundian chronicler, who gives us the story of
the tournaments at Stirling and at Bruges, in which
Sir Jacques de Lalain bore a part.
Several of the other stories are taken from rhym-
ing chronicles or historical poems. The account of


the preparations for the conquest of England is drawn
from the poem of the Norman, Robert Wace, whose
father was an eye-witness of the events; and the
story of William the Lion from Fantosme's 'Chro-
nicle of Henry the Second.' The Battle of Poitiers
is told as Chandos Herald relates it in his rhyming
'Life of the Black Prince;' and the Siege of Roucn
is from the old English poem by John Page. The
romance of Fulk FitzWarine, if less strictly history
than the other tales, seems to have been founded
on fact, and being probably nearly contemporary,
gives at least a picture of the times.
The illustrations are mainly adapted from illumi-
nated manuscripts in the British Museum.

E. L. S.



Now Duke William was in his park at Rouen, and in
his hands he held a bow ready strung, for he was
going hunting, and many knights and squires with
him. And behold, there came to the gate a mes-
senger from England; and he went straight to the
Duke and drew him aside, and told him secretly how
King Edward's life had come to an end, and Harold
had been made king in his stead. And when the Duke
had heard the tidings, and understood all that was
come to pass, those that looked upon him perceived
that he was greatly enraged, for he forsook the chase,
and went in silence, speaking no word to any man,
clasping and unclasping his cloak, neither dared any
man speak to him ; but he crossed over the Seine in
a boat, and went to his hall, and sat down on a
bench; and he covered his face with his mantle, and
leant down his head, and there he abode, turning


about restlessly for one hour after another in gloomy
thought. And none dared speak a word to him, but
they spake to one another, saying, 'What ails the
Duke? Why bears he such a mien?' Then there
came in his seneschal riding from the park, and he
went through the hall humming a song, and passed
by the Duke; and there came many to him, asking
him wherefore the Duke did so. And he answered
them, 'You will hear the tidings soon, but be not in
haste, for it is sure to leak out in time.' Then the
Duke raised himself, and the seneschal came to him
and said, 'Why conceal your tidings, sire, for if we
know it not now, we shall hear it soon, and you will
gain nothing by hiding it, nor lose by telling it;
and though you may take great pains to hide it, all the
town knows it? For they go about the city, little and
great, saying that King Edward has passed away,
and Harold is become king, and has received the
'That is it that troubles me,' said the Duke. 'I
grieve because Edward is dead, and that Harold has
done me wrong; for he has taken my kingdom
who was bound to me by oath and promise.'
To these words answered FitzOsbern the bold,
'Sir, tarry not, but make ready with speed to avenge
yourself on Harold, who has been disloyal to you; for
if you lack not courage, there will be left no land to
Harold. Summon all whom you may summon, cross
the sea and seize his lands; for no brave man should
begin a matter and not carry it on to the end.'
Then William sent messengers to Harold to call


upon him to keep the oath that he had sworn; but
Harold replied in scorn that he would not marry his
daughter, nor give up his land to him. And William
sent to him his defiance; but Harold answered, that
he feared him not, and he drove all the Normans out
of the land, with their wives and children, for King
Edward had given them lands and castles, but Harold
chased them out of the country; neither would he let
one remain. And at Christmas he took the crown,
but it would have been well for himself and his land if
he had not been crowned, since for the kingdom he per-
jured himself, and his reign lasted but a short space.
Then Duke William called together his barons,
and told them all his will, and how Harold had
wronged him, and that he would cross the sea and
revenge himself; but without their aid he could not
gather men enough, nor a large navy, therefore he
would know of each one of them how many men and
ships he would bring. And they prayed for leave to
take counsel together, and the Duke granted their
request. And their deliberations lasted long, for
many complained that their burdens were heavy, and
some said that they would bring ships and cross the
sea with the Duke, and others said they would not
go, for they were in debt and poor. Thus some
would and some would not, and there was great con-
tention between them.
Then FitzOsbern came to them and said, 'Where-
fore dispute you, sirs? Ye should not fail your
natural lord when he goes seeking honour. Ye owe
him service for your fiefs, and where ye owe service


ye should serve with all your power. Ask not delay,
nor wait until he prays you ; but go before, and offer
him more than you can do. Let him not lament that
his enterprise failed for your remissness.'
But they answered, 'Sir, we fear the sea, and we
owe no service across the sea. Speak for us, we pray
you, and answer in our stead. Say what you will,
and we will abide by your words.'
'Will ye all leave yourselves to me?' he said.
And each one answered, 'Yes. Let us go to the
Duke, and you shall speak for us.'
And FitzOsbern turned himself about and went
before them to the Duke, and spoke for them, and he
said, 'Sir, no lord has such men as you have, and who
will do so much for their lord's honour, and you
ought to love and keep them well. For you they say
they would be drowned in the sea or thrown into the
fire. You may trust them well, for they have served
you long and followed you at great cost. And if
they have done well, they will do better; for they will
pass the sea with you, and will double their service.
For he who should bring twenty knights will gladly
bring forty, and he who should serve you with thirty
will bring sixty, and he from whom one hundred is
due will willingly bring two hundred. And I, in
loving loyalty, will bring in my lord's business sixty
ships, well arrayed and laden with fighting men.'
But the barons marvelled at him, and murmured
aloud at the words that he spake and the promises
he made, for which they had given him no warrant.
And many contradicted him, and there arose a noise


and loud disturbance among them; for they feared
that if they doubled their service it would become a
custom, and be turned into a feudal right. And the
noise and outcry became so great that a man could
not hear what his fellow said. Then the Duke went
aside, for the noise displeased him, and sent for the
barons one by one, and spoke to each one of the
greatness of the enterprise, and that if they would
double their service, and do freely more than their
due, it should be well for them, and that he would
never make it a custom, nor require of them any
service more than was the usage of the country, and
such as their ancestors had paid to their lord. Then
each one said he would do it, and he told how many
ships he could bring, and the Duke had them all
written down in brief. Bishop Odo, his brother,
brought him forty ships, and the Bishop of Le Mans
prepared thirty, with their mariners and pilots. And
the Duke prayed his neighbours of Brittany, Anjou,
and Maine, Ponthieu, and Boulogne, to aid him in
this business; and he promised them lands if England
were conquered, and rich gifts and large pay. Thus
from all sides came soldiers to him.
Then he showed the matter to his lord the King
of France, and he sought him at St. Germer, and
found him there; and he said that if he would aid
him, so that by his aid he won his right, he would
hold England from him and serve him for it. But
the King answered that he would not aid him, neither
with his will should he pass the sea; for the French
prayed him not to aid him, saying he was too strong


already, and that if he let him add riches from over
the sea to his lands of Normandy and all his good
knights, there would never be peace. 'And when
England shall be conquered,' said they, 'you will
hear no more of his service. He pays little service
now, but then it will be less. The more he has, the
less he will do.'
So the Duke took leave of the King, and came
away in a rage, saying, 'Sir, I go to do the best I
can, and if God will that I gain my right you shall
see me no more but for evil. And if I fail, and the
English can defend themselves, my children shall
inherit my lands, and thou shalt not conquer them.
Living or dead, I fear no menace.'
Then he prayed to the Count of Flanders, as his
friend and brother-in-law, to come and aid him; and
the Count answered that he would know first how
much he should have of England, and what part it
would be. And to that the Duke answered that he
would take counsel of his barons, and send him
answer by letter. But when he came home he did a
thing such as was never done before; for he took a
little piece of parchment on which was neither writing
nor letter, and he sealed it up, all blank as it was, and
wrote outside that he would give him as much of
England as was written within. And he gave it to a
servant who had been long with him, and he brought
it to the Count. And the Count broke the seal and
spread open the parchment, and looked within; but
when he found nothing, he showed it to the mes-
senger. And the servant answered courteously,


'There is nothing within : nothing will you have.'
I know not what the Count answered, but the servant
took his leave.
Then the Duke sent to Rome clerks that were
skilled in speech, and they told the Pope how Harold
had sworn falsely, and that Duke William promised
that if he conquered England he would hold it of
St. Peter. And the Pope sent him a standard and a
very precious ring, and underneath the stone there
was, it is said, a hair of St. Peter's. And about that
time there appeared a great star shining in the south
with very long rays, such a star as is seen when a
kingdom is about to have a new king. I have spoken
with many men who saw it, and those who are
cunning in the stars call it a comet.
Then the Duke called together carpenters and
shipbuilders, and in all the ports of Normandy there
was sawing of planks and carrying of wood, spreading
of sails and setting up of masts, with great labour and
industry. Thus all the summer long and through the
month of August they made ready the fleet and as-
sembled the men; for there was no knight in all the
land, nor any good sergeant, nor archer, nor any pea-
sant of good courage of age to fight whom the Duke
did not summon to go with him to England.
When the ships were ready they were anchored in
the Somme at St. Valery, and there came men to
the Duke from many parts. There came Hamon,
the Viscount of Thouars, a man of great power, and
served by many; and Alan Fergant, who had great
lands in Brittany ; and Bertran FitzPeleit, and the


Lord of Dinan, and Raoul of Gael. And there came
many a Breton from many a castle, and they of Bre-
cheliant, of which the Bretons tell that there is a
forest there, great and large, and much famed in
Brittany, where the fountain of Berenton rises. There
in times of great heat the hunters go, and, filling
their horns with the water, pour it out on the rock,
and then it rains all around the forest, I know not
why. And there, too, fairies may be seen, if the Bretons
speak the truth, and many other marvels; and it is
wild with great plenty of large stags, but the peasant
has forsaken it. There I went once seeking marvels,
and I saw the forest and the land, and sought for
marvels, but found none; a fool I went, and a fool
And as the renown of the Duke went abroad there
came to him soldiers one by one, or two by two, and
the Duke kept them with him, and promised them
much. And some asked for lands in England, and
others pay and large gifts. But I will not write down
what barons, knights, and soldiers, the Duke had in
his company, but I have heard my father say (I re-
member it well, though I was but a boy) that there
were seven hundred ships save four when they left
St. Valery-ships, and boats, and little skiffs. But I
found it written (I know not the truth) that there
were three thousand ships carrying sails and masts.
And at St. Valery they tarried long for a favour-
able wind, and the barons grew weary with waiting;
and they prayed those of the convent to bring out to
the camp the shrine of St. Valery, and they came to



it and prayed that they might cross the sea, and they
offered money till all the holy body was covered with
it, and the same day there sprang up a favourable
wind. Then the Duke put a lantern on the mast of
his ship, that the other ships might see it and keep
their course near, and an ensign of gilded copper on
the top, and at the head of the ship, which mariners
call the prow, there was a child made of copper
holding a bow and arrow, and he had his face toward
England, and seemed about to shoot.
Thus the ships came to a port, and they all arrived
together and anchored together, and they ran them
together on the beach, and together they all disem-
barked. And it was near Hastings, and the ships lay
side by side. And the good sailors, and sergeants,
and esquires sprang out, and cast the anchors, and
fastened the ships with ropes; and they brought out
their shields and saddles, and led forth the horses.
The archers were the first to come to land, every one
with his bow bent and his quiver and arrows by his
side, all shaven and dressed in short tunics, ready for
battle, and of good courage; and they searched all
the beach, but no armed man could they find. When
they were issued forth, then came the knights in
armour, with helmet laced and shield on neck, and
together they came to the sand and mounted their
war-horses; and they had their swords at their sides,
and rode with lances raised. The barons had their
standards and the knights their pennons. After them
came the carpenters, with their axes in their hands
and their tools hanging by their side. And when


they came to the archers and to the knights they
took counsel together, and brought wood from the
ships and fastened it together with bolts and bars,
and before the evening was well come they had made
themselves a strong fort. And they lighted fires and
cooked food, and the Duke and his barons and
knights sat down to eat; and they all ate and drank
plentifully, and rejoiced that they were come to land.
Now before the Duke was departed from the
Somme there came to him a clerk learned in astro-
nomy and necromancy, and he esteemed himself a
seer, and foretold many things. And he had foretold
to the Duke that he would pass the sea safely, and
accomplish his design without fighting, for Harold
would agree to hold the land of the Duke, and to
become his liegeman, and that he would return in
safety. He divined well about the passage, but
about the battle he lied. And when the Duke had
passed over, and was arrived safely, he remembered
the seer, and asked for him. And one of his sailors
answered that he was missing, and that it was said he
had been drowned by the way. 'Then,' said the
Duke, 'his knowledge was not great; he could not
prophesy truly of me who knew not his own fate. If
he knew the truth of everything, he would have fore-
seen his death. He is a fool who would fix the end
of another and knows not his own time, but takes
care for others and forgets himself.'
When the Duke came forth of his ship he fell on
his hands to the ground, and there rose a great cry,
for all said it was an evil sign ; but he cried aloud,


'Lords, I have seized the land with my two hands,
and will never yield it. All is ours.' Then a man
ran to land and laid his hand upon a cottage, and
took a handful of the thatch, and returned to the
Duke. Sir,' said he, 'take seizin of the land; yours
is the land without doubt.'
Then the Duke commanded the mariners to draw
all the ships to land, and pierce holes in them, and
break them to pieces, for they should never return by
the way they had come.




IN the year of our Lord 1138, King Stephen being
occupied in the south country, the King of the Scots
gathered together an innumerable host, not of those
only who owned his rule, but also not a few from the
islands and from the Orkneys. With great ferocity
and audacity he entered into the land of England,
purposing either to subdue to his authority all the
north of England, or to devastate it with fire and
But the Archbishop Thurstan and Walter Espec
roused the leaders beyond the Humber, and they,
coming together, covenanted to resist him with force.
Therefore they assembled an army, few, indeed, in
numbers, but strong in arms and valiant men, and,
gathering together in a wide field near Allerton with
the royal ensign, which is commonly called the
Standard, waited to receive the enemy. For Thur-
stan, the archbishop, had sent his edict throughout
his whole diocese, commanding that all who could go
to war should gather hastily to the leaders to defend
the Church of Christ against the barbarian host, and
that from every parish they should come, led by the


priests with the cross and the holy ensigns. In the
southern army among the leaders there was William,
Earl of Albemarle, young but valiant, and well exer-
cised in arms, having with him many soldiers, and
being not less excellent in military astuteness than in
courage. And there was Walter de Ghent, in extreme
old age, a gentle and good man, himself leading his
Flemings and Normans, and encouraging the people
much by his wisdom and the weight of his words.
Neither was Gilbert de Lacy slow to come; and he,
having lived long in exile in King Henry's time, had
grown used to toil and hardship, and in this time of
necessity remained unmoved. And Robert de Bruce,
though he was in friendship with the King of the
Scots, failed not the people in this extremity, but
came to this place with his young son Adam and a
company of brave youths. And so fervently were all
men moved to resist the Scots that there came Roger
de Mowbray, who was but a lad, to be with the army,
though it would have been more proper for him at his
age to have remained at home. And with him as-
sembled all the men of his lands with such zeal and
devotion that neither in wisdom, courage, nor numbers,
did they seem inferior to the rest, so that the little
age of their lord seemed no loss to any of the army.
And there was Walter Espec, an old man and full
of days, acute in mind, prudent in counsel, modest in
peace, wary in war, ever loyal to the King and faithful
to his friends. He was a man of great stature, with
mighty limbs and thick black hair and beard, and a
voice like a trumpet, and he was great and ready in


speech. He came of noble race, and was noble in
deeds of Christian piety.
Then he, being held in honour by the whole army
on account of his age and wisdom, ascending the ma-
chine which was constructed round the royal ensign,
encouraged the dejected and animated the -eager.
'Hear me, oh, brave men !' he said, 'for I have lived
long and seen many wars and changes of time. I see
many of you wavering and hesitating, fearing greatly
that our little company will be swallowed up by the
great host of the Scots; but victory depends not on
multitudes, but on strength and a good cause. There-
fore, considering what a cause, what a necessity brings
us here to fight against such enemies, I stand intrepid,
as secure of victory as of battle. Why should we
despair of victory when victory has, as it were, been
given in fief to our race by the Highest? Did not
our ancestors, in small numbers, invade a large part
of Gaul, erasing even the name ? Did not our fathers
and we, in short space, subdue this island, which cost
the victorious Julius many years of hard fighting?
We have seen with our own eyes the King of France
and all his army turn their backs, and the greatest
leaders of his kingdom led captive. Who subdued
Apulia, Sicily, and Calabria? Did not both the
emperors flee before the Normans almost on the
same day and hour, one fighting against the father
and the other against the son ? And who would not
rather laugh than fear at having to fight with half-
naked Scots ? These are they who yielded without
resistance when William, conqueror of English and


Scots, advanced to Abernethy? What are their
spears that they should terrify us so greatly ? Of
fragile wood and blunt iron, they break in piercing,
and are scarce strong enough for one thrust. Save for
a stick, the Scots are unarmed. And shall we fear
numbers ? The greater the numbers the greater the
glory of conquest. And for what a cause do we
fight! None will deny us the right of fighting for
our country, for our wives and children, and for our
Church in such extreme peril. Remember what be-
fell beyond the Tyne, and hope for nothing better if
the Scots conquer. I will not speak of the slaughter
and rapine, such as no history related of the cruellest
tyrants. No order, no age, no sex, were spared.
Noble boys and girls were carried away captive, and
little children borne on the points of spears by the
men of Galloway, churches entered and polluted.
You have to fight not with men, but with beasts, who
know no humanity nor piety, whom Heaven abhors
and the earth abominates, and who would have been
swallowed up by the earth, or struck down by light-
ning, or drowned in the sea, but that they are reserved
for you to conquer. Then let us join battle with as-
sured minds, for ours is the just cause; our hands are
stronger, necessity, glory urge us, Divine aid will be
ours, and all the heavenly host will fight for us.'
Then he turned him to the Earl of Albemarle, and
taking him by the hand, 'I swear,' said he,' this day
to conquer the Scots, or fall by the hands of the
And all the leaders bound themselves by a like


vow. And that all hope of flight should be entirely
taken away, they dismounted to fight on foot, and all
the horses were removed to a distance, for they desired
either to conquer or die.
In the meanwhile the King of the Scots, having
assembled his earls and the chief leaders of his king-
dom, began to hold counsel with them; and some
advised that armed men and bowmen should go
before the army, so that armed men might be op-
posed to armed men, soldiers to soldiers, and bowmen
to bowmen. But to that the men of Galloway replied,
that it was their right to hold the front rank and first
attack the enemy, animating the rest of the host by
their valour. But others thought it perilous thus to
make the first attack with unarmed men, for if not
sustaining the force of the battle, the first line should
take to flight, the hearts of the strong would melt.
Nevertheless the men of Galloway demanded that
their right should be conceded to them. 'What
fearest thou, 0 King ? and why art thou so greatly
terrified at those coats of mail ? Our sides are iron,
our breasts brass, our minds are free from fear, and
our feet have never known flight, nor our backs a
wound. We bore away the victory from the armed
men at Cliderhou, and this day will we overthrow the
But perceiving that the King leaned to the counsel
of the soldiers, Malis, Earl of Strathearn, cried out in
anger, 'Wilt thou, 0 King, yield to the will of the
Gauls ? but I swear that no man in armour shall this
day precede me in the battle.' At which words the


young Alan de Percy, a strong man and well proved
in military matters, restraining his anger with diffi-
culty, turned him to the Earl and said, 'Thou hast
spoken words this day which thou wilt not be able to
make good.' Then the King, bidding them both be
silent, lest a tumult should have arisen from the alter-
cation, yielded to the will of the men of Galloway.
The second line being given to the King's son, he
set the soldiers and bowmen in array with great skill,
the Cumbrians and men of Teviotdale being joined
with them. And the youth was handsome in person
and proper in demeanour, of so great humility that
he seemed inferior to all, of so great authority that he
was feared by all, gentle and affable, so that he was
beloved by all; decorous in manners, sober in speech,
honest in all things, devout, apt to speak, benevolent
to the poor, firm against evil-doers, a monk among
kings and a king among monks. He was also of such
valour that there was none like him in attack or in
sustaining an attack, swift in pursuit, fierce in re-
pelling, slow in flight. There was joined with him
Eustace FitzJohn, one of the great leaders of England
who had been familiar with the late King Henry, a
man of great prudence and counsel in secular matters,
who had forsaken the king of the English because an
accusation having been brought against him con-
cerning some castles that Henry had given him he
was compelled to restore them, on which account he
joined the enemy to take his revenge.
In the third line were the men of Lothian and the
Isles, and the Highlanders. The King retained in his


own line the Scots and the men of Moray, and
English and French knights to guard his person.
Such was the array of the northern army.
The little company of the southerners was ordered
with great skill in one body. For, the most valiant
men-at-arms being placed in front, there were mixed
with them lancers and bowmen, who, protected by
the armed men, might securely and fiercely meet the
enemy's attack; and the elder leaders assembled
round the standard, that they might thence command
the army. Then shields were joined to shield side
to side, lances with pennons unfurled were raised, the
coats-of-mail glittered in the sun, and the priests,
clad in their sacred white garments, went round the
army with crosses and relics of saints, strengthening
and animating the men with their exhortations.
Then Robert de Bruce, a man of great age and of
great deeds, grave in manners and of rare speech,
whose words were with weight, who, while he was by
oath one of the King of England's men, had in youth
joined the King of the Scots, and been admitted to
familiar friendship with him,-he, therefore, a man of
military experience and well known in such matters,
seeing the peril which hung over the King, moved by
his ancient friendship, went, with the leave of the
confederate leaders, to the King, that he might dis-
suade him from war, or persuade him to wage it more
lawfully. When, therefore, he was come to the King,
he spake thus, saying, 'I come, 0 King, to give thee
good counsel, useful to thy kingdom and to thy
posterity; for he is wise who looks not only to the


beginning, but to the results of deeds. Against whom
dost thou fight this day? Is it not against the
English and the Normans? And have they not often
aided thee ? Nay, wilt thou be safe from the Scots
without their aid ? With whose aid did thy brother
Duncan, son of Donald, overcome his enemies ?
Who restored thy brother Edgar to his kingdom ?
Thou thyself obtainedst the portion of land which
thy dying brother left thee from thy brother Alex-
ander through our terror. And remember how but
the year past there came to thy aid against thine
enemy Malcolm, gladly and swiftly, Walter Espec,
and other English leaders, and overcame him and
delivered him into thine hand; and, in truth, the Scots
hate us because we have served and aided thee. For-
bear then, O King, for thine own sake, and for thy
kingdom's sake, and, above all, for the sake of thy
noble young son. Why dost thou join in the sins of
wicked men, at whose hands will be required the
slaughter of babes and women, and the sacrilege of
holy things; against whom the blood, not of one
Abel, but of innumerable innocent victims, cries from
the ground ? Declare thou that these deeds are done
against thy will. For there is opposed to thee no
contemptible army, but one as much superior to thine
in arms and good soldiers as it is inferior to thine in
numbers. And thou knowest, O King, the courage
of despair. If thou conquer, we die certainly: we, and
our little ones, and our wives; and our priests will be
murdered at the altar. But we are resolved to con-
quer or to die gloriously; and none of us doubts of


victory. Therefore, I mourn, I weep, because for my
dear lord, my friend, my old companion, in whose
friendship I have grown old, whose generous munifi-
cence I have known, with whom I played in boyhood,
and in whose dangers I have shared, there remains
nothing but death or a shameful flight.'
He ceased, his voice choked with tears and grief;
and the King was moved to tears and instantly would
have made peace. But William, the King's nephew,
a man strong of will and bent on war, came between
them, and with great fury accusing Robert of treason,
moved the King from his purpose. Robert, therefore,
delaying no longer, according to the manner of his
country, renounced the faith by which he was bound
to the King, and returned to his men-not without
Then, straightway, the northern army advanced
with lances raised, and with the shrill blast of clarion
and trumpets and the clash of arms, the heavens and
the earth trembled, and mountain and hill resounded.
In the meantime, Radulph, Bishop of the Ork-
neys, whom Archbishop Thurstan had sent to them,
standing on a high place, gave absolution to the
people, who, beating their breasts and lifting up their
hands, prayed to Heaven for aid; and absolution being
pronounced, the Bishop blessed them solemnly. And
the people cried aloud, 'Amen amen! '
Then the men of Galloway, uttering after their
manner yells and horrible cries, ran upon the southern
army with such fury that they forced the spearmen to
give way; but they, being supported by the soldiers,


soon recovered their courage, and the lances of the
Scots proving of delusive brittleness, they drew their
swords and sought to fight hand to hand. But the
southerners poured upon them a dense rain of arrows,
and assailed them with such a ceaseless shower of
missiles in their breasts and faces, that they retarded
their attack. Nevertheless, the men of Galloway,
bristling with arrows as the hedgehog with its spines,
brandishing their swords, fell in blind fury upon their
enemies, striking vain blows upon the empty air.
Then, suddenly overcome by a panic of fear, they
dissolved into flight; when the King's noble young
son, coming up with his company, with lion-like fury
broke the southern lines like cobweb, and cutting
down all who opposed, swept beyond the royal
standard, supposing himself to be followed by the
rest of the army, and that he might make it impos-
sible for the enemy to escape, he attacked the place
where the horses were stationed, dispersed them and
drove them away for a space of two miles. Terrified
by the force of this attack, the unarmed men began
to give way; but a certain wise man, holding up the
head of a man that had been slain, cried out that the
King was slain; and thus they were encouraged and
stood firm.
Then the men of Galloway, being unable to stand
longer before the shower of arrows and the swords of
the soldiers, turned to flee, two of their leaders, Ulric
and Donald, being slain. And the men of Lothian,
scarce waiting for the first attack, melted away.
Thereupon the King and the leaders, leaping from


their horses, advanced upon the enemy. But the
Scots, panic-struck at the flight of the others, began
to drop away from the royal troop, until, in a short
time, there were but few left round the King. Then
the army of the English advanced upon them, and
the King himself, and all his men, would have been
taken or slain, if his soldiers, having vainly implored
him to flee, had not lifted him upon his horse and
compelled him to retire. And those who were flee-
ing, seeing the royal ensign, which being a dragon
was easily recognized, and perceiving that the King
had not fallen, returned to him and formed a body to
oppose those who were pursuing.
In the meantime, that flower of youth and glory
of chivalry-the King's son-looking behind him,
saw himself with but few men in the midst of the
enemy. Then, turning him to one of his companions,
he said, smiling, 'We have done what we could, and
certainly we have overcome as many as ourselves, and
it is a sign of a great mind not to be broken in
adverse fortune, and when we cannot overcome by
strength to do so by prudence. Therefore, let us
divide one from another, and join ourselves to the
enemy, as if we were pursuing with them, that so we
may pass them by, and get as soon as possible to my
father, whom I see yielding to necessity.' This said,
spurring his horse he passed through the midst of his
enemies, and having issued beyond, slackened his
horse's speed. Then he, with his knights, throwing
away their heavy armour, came to a poor cottage,
and, calling out the peasant, he took off his princely


chain, and casting it at the man's feet, said, 'Take
what is a burden to me, but may help you in your
And the King, having put a distance between
himself and his enemies, gathered a company and set
them again in array, hoping to capture some who
were pursuing, that thus he might deter others from
attacking; and he came to Carlisle, and there, being
in safety himself, he awaited his son in great fear for
two days, but the third day he received him safe and
And the English leaders pursuing far, took
prisoners and killed great numbers, both of the Scots
and the men of Galloway; and all the English
leaders returned safe and uninjured, and gathering
round Walter Espec, whom they venerated as their
captain and father, gave great thanks to Almighty
God for such an unhoped-for victory.




How the young King Henry went away to the King
of France, and how the Breton barons rebelled
against their King.

THE King of England called his barons together,
and caused his son to be crowned king, and made
the King of Albany and all his barons do homage
to him, saying,-' God curse all who would part you,
or break the love between you. Stand by my son,
and aid him against all the world, saving my
But between him and his son there grew up a
deadly hatred, which cost many a gentle knight his
life, for when he could not have his will, because of
his father, he went away secretly, and passed over
the Loire, and would tarry neither for meat and
drink till he came to St. Denis, and recounted all
to the King of France. Then there was held a
great assembly, and Philip of Flanders and Matthew
of Boulogne were summoned; and the Count of
Flanders encouraged the King to go to war with
the King of England. And Count Thibault rose


from his seat and said, 'Gentle King of St. Denis,
I am your liegeman by faith and homage, and am
ready to serve you for forty days; and I will do to
King Henry such damage as shall not be restored
all his life, nor shall he rest until he have given back
his heritage to the young King, his son.'
And the King and his barons agreed, and they
sent messengers to defy King Henry; and the host
of France was summoned in the month of April,
at Easter. King Henry rode against them with ten
thousand Brabanqons, and many a gentle knight of
Anjou and Gascony.
The host of France that Louis led was great, for
the son took great pains to destroy his father, and
trusted to lead him vanquished and a prisoner to
St. Denis; but the King, his father, vowed that he
should see many a banner, and many a costly horse,
and gaily painted shield, and many a bold joust
fought out, ere he would yield himself recreant and
conquered. But the lord of England was heavy at
heart, because his son, whom he nourished in child-
hood, made war upon him; yet would he rather die
than give his son the power while he could wield
sword or lance. And he went against Louis, the
mighty King of France, and Count Philip, and his
brother, the valiant knight Matthew. And God
aided the father that day, and Count Matthew of
Boulogne received a mortal wound, and the blood
ran down to his gilt spurs, and his brother sorrowed
greatly, and swore that his wrath against King Henry
should never be appeased.


And with the French and Flemings opposed to
King Henry rode the Earl of Leicester and all his
three sons, and the lord of Tancarville at the head
of a hundred knights. But, by my troth, I know
not why his vassals demeaned them so towards him,
for he was the most honourable and victorious king
that had ever reigned in any land since the time
of Moses, excepting only the King Charles, with
Oliver and Roland, and the twelve companions.
Then rode Count Philip through the land of
Normandy, wasting it by wood and plain; and the
barons of Brittany submitted to the young King's
command, which when King Henry heard, he was
much grieved. 'Lords,' said he to his knights,
'nothing in my life has vexed me so sore; I am
mad with rage that the barons of Brittany should
have gone against me, and joined those who hate
me to the death, King Louis of France and my
eldest son, who would disinherit me. I am not
yet so old that I should lose my lands because of
my great age. But Raoul of Fougeres has rebelled
against me, and Earl Hugh of Chester has joined
with him; but for no cost of gold will I fail to
follow them to their fortresses, and against such
enemies craft is better than war.'
Then his knights hastened, and leaving the palace
seized their arms, clad themselves in hauberks and
breastplates, and laced on their helmets, and took
up their Viennese shields. And King Henry, as he
rode out of the town at the head of his knights in
array, cried, 'It will be evil for the traitors to meet


us in the fields!' Then his men rode to Dol in
And the men in the castle looked out, and saw
William de Humet coming with the banner, and the
Brabanqons behind ; and they went to Sir Raoul and
cried, 'See the host of Normandy which is coming
upon us! Normans are good conquerors, as we
hear in every tale. The young king has betrayed
us. How can we defend ourselves?'
And Sir Raoul replied, 'He who has good counsel
let him speak. But let us not be dishonoured, nor
the land ravaged. The castle is not strong, let us
issue forth and assail them.' So they came out to
the plain and joined battle with William de Humet
and his company. There was no knight of name
who did not break a lance, but each one who would
joust found his match, and the Breton barons were
driven back into their fortresses. No mangonel nor
engine for stones would have helped them, but the
war which they had begun cost them dear. For a
messenger on a black horse rode to King Henry
at Rouen, and when he heard of the discomfiture of
his enemies he came with haste to Dol. And his
coming sent fear into his enemies, and for lack of
victual they rendered them up into his power.
'My lords,' said King Henry, 'my son takes rent
by force from all my fiefs, and it does not seem right
to me that it should be paid to him. They of
Flanders are against me. Aid me, lords, to guard
my rights. Earl Hugh of Chester take along with
you. As for Raoul of Fougeres, I let him go free


in his lands, if he will give me his faith; but if he
ever rebel against me again he shall hold in Brittany
neither fief nor heritage. Now, lords, to horse; my
son is in battle array. Let us go and pay him his
rent with our swords and sharp darts.' And his
knights were glad, and rejoiced at his words, but
the Earl of Chester mourned, fearing never to be
loosed from prison.

How King William raised an army, and entered
North m berland.
Then King Louis wrote a letter, and sealed it
with a ring, and called before him the messengers
of the young king; and they having received the
letter, traversed the salt sea, passed forests and plains,
and came to Scotland; and finding the King, pre-
sented the writing to him, on the part of the young
King Henry; and in the letter was written,-
'To the King of Scotland, William the Good, King
Henry the younger sends you love, and bids you remember
him who is your lord. I marvel much that so rich a king,
and a man of thy valour, with such force of men, gives me
no aid in warring against my father. I will give thee the
lands that thy ancestors held, the lands beyond Tyne. I
know no better under the heavens; and Carlisle will I
give, that none may be able to oppose thee in Westmore-
land, if thou wilt aid me against those who hold my lands.'
Then the King of Scotland had great searching
of heart when he heard how the young king claimed
his homage against all people, and how he would
give him the lands that all the kings of Scotland had


held, for he owed homage to the old king, the father,
also, and true allegiance; neither were it right that
he should destroy his land.
Then he called together his parliament, and told
them of the letter of the young king, and he said,
'I will send messengers to the father in Normandy,
that he give me back the part of my inheritance,
Northumberland, which he withholds from me; and
if he refuse to give it me, I owe him no longer either
faith or friendship.'
To that answered the Earl Duncan, 'The old
king is reasonable, seek not occasion to do him
outrage. Fair words are better than menaces. He
who holds not so, seeks his own death and con-
fusion. If he give you your rights you will serve
him as his liegeman.'
Thus spake Earl Duncan wisely, and the counsel
pleased the King and his barons; and the messen-
gers departed, and spurred their horses, and rode
with slack reins over the great paved roads. And
they came to Normandy, and found the old King
Henry, and gave him the letters of the King of
Scotland. And Friar William Dolepene said to the
King, 'I am a messenger from the King of Scot-
land, your kinsman, who should be dear to you.
Within a month he will come to you with a thousand
armed knights, and thirty thousand unarmed men,
against your enemies; neither will he ask of you a
penny, so you will grant him his rights, and chiefly
Northumberland; but if you will not, but will dis-
inherit him, he gives you back your homage.'


When the King heard this demand, he made
answer to the messenger, 'Say to the King of
Scotland I fear nothing from the war that I have
with my son, neither do I fear the King of France
and his men, nor the Count of Flanders. I will
make them lament the war they have begun. But
say to his brother David, my kinsman, that he come
to me with all the men he has, and I will give him
lands, and all that he desires.'
So the messengers departed from Normandy,
and traversed England, and came into Albany; and
there was none that harmed them from Dover to
Orkney, but soon will there be such tales of war as
shall make many weep.
'God save thee, sir King of Scotland! I am re-
turned from the King of England. Much he marvels
at you. He held you for a wise man, and no child
in age, and you demand his land as your inheritance,
as if he were a bird in a cage. He is no fugitive nor
outlaw, but the King of England; nor will he give
you increase of land.'
And-when the hot-blooded young knights heard
that, they swore great oaths, and said, 'If you do
not make war on this king, who shames you so, you
are not worthy to hold land nor lordship, but should
serve the son of Matilda.'
But there was not there Ingelram, the Bishop,
neither did Earl Waltheof counsel war-he knew
well it was folly; but the King, led away by foolish
men, answered him in anger, 'Your cowardice will
not prevent the war. You have treasure enough


-defend your lands; but if you will not give aid,
you shall not have of the spoil the value of a clove of
garlic.' But the Earl answered, 'I am your liegeman,
and so were my kinsmen. But trust not in strangers,
for if you prosper they will gain; but if you lose they
cannot suffer. Nevertheless, I will not fail you while
I live.'
Then the King sent messengers to Flanders to
the young King Henry, to promise him aid, and to
pray him to send to him Flemings with ships. And
they departed and came to Berwick, and entered into
barges, and hoisted their sails, and went on the high
sea; for they cared not to coast along England, for
those who were friends were now become their mortal
enemies. And they found their lord with King Louis
of France and Count Philip. And Count Philip gave
counsel and said, 'Pledge your faith to the King of
Scotland, and bid him make war on your enemies,
and waste their land with fire and destroy it utterly.
Within fifteen days we will give him aid from
Flanders.' And King Louis agreed, and the mes-
sengers returned to their own land.
And every man encouraged his neighbour, and
said, Let us go and take the Castle of Wark in
England.' And all boasted of the victory that was
promised them. And the King of Scotland as-
sembled his army, and there came men from Ross
and Moray, and the Earl of Angus came with three
thousand Scots; and there were assembled such a
multitude of naked men as had not been seen for
many ages.


So King William came to Wark in England,
which was a castle in the marches, and he sent to
the constable to know if he would hold it or yield it
up. Now the constable was Roger de Stuteville, no
lover of treason, but he saw that his force was not
enough to stand against the host of Scotland, and he
lamented with tears the fallen power of his King.
Then, in his wisdom, he came before the King of
Scotland, and prayed for forty days' space, that he
might send sealed letters across sea or go himself
and tell his lord that all his people were given up to
destruction. And King William, seeing his great
sadness, granted his request. And the wise knight
went himself to England and prayed for succour, and
within the term appointed he led back such a host
that he gave full leave to the King of Scotland to
attack him.
So the King William said to his knights, 'Let us go
through Northumberland; there is none to oppose us,
for the Bishop of Durham tells me by letters that he
wishes to be at peace. Let us go to Alnwick, and if
William de Vesci will yield up his father's castle I
will let him go without loss of limb.' So they came
to Alnwick, but William de Vesci being prepared to
defend it, they made no long stay, but departed and
came to Warkworth. Roger Fitz-Richard had it in
ward, but it was weak, and he could not hold it. But
he was Lord of New Castle on Tyne, and would make
no peace with the King of Scotland. And the King
came against him with his armed men and his naked
tribes; but the barons loved their lord, and held it

#A:vHHJ AIt N.


better to die or lose their heritage than suffer shame.
Then the King William saw well that he could not
conquer New Castle by storm; but his counsellors
said, 'Be not downcast, but let the host be ready
early in the morning, and let us go to Carlisle and
conquer it. When Robert de Vaux sees so many
shields and Poitevin helmets he will wish himself a
bishop.' But King William answered,' May I be for
ever put to shame if I make terms with Odonel, for
as long as Castle Prudhoe stands we shall never have
peace in Scotland.' And he bade them pitch his
tents before it; but his barons refused to aid him,
saying, 'Carlisle is the hardest to secure of all your
rights. Go, then, and conquer the chief place; lay
siege to it, and make your host swear not to depart
from it until it has been set on fire and the walls
pulled down with pickaxes and Robert de Vaux
hanging on a high gallows. He cannot long resist
you.' And to this counsel the King agreed.
So on the morrow, when day appeared, the
trumpets sounded, and King William and all his
barons and his host set out on their march. Now the
King of Scotland understood how to make war on
his enemies and to do them hurt and damage, but he
turned too much to new counsels, and cherished
strangers, holding them dear, but his own people he
loved not.
And having set his men in array, he assaulted
the walls. Great was the noise of clanging iron
-and clashing steel; scarce a helmet or hauberk was
left whole. That day those within showed them-


selves knights, and left many strewed round the walls
with no leisure to rise. But they must aid them-
selves and hold their barbican, and fight for it; and
they had no need of cowards, for the assault at the
gates was fierce.
Then there came in haste to the King a mes-
senger-a canon he was, and knew the language; and
the King was in his pavilion, and with him his
chamberlains and his friends, while the warriors stood
around. And he told them how he had seen armed
men and knights who were prepared to assail him
before the sun rose. 'And De Lucy will be with
them before midnight, and many come with him.
Listen to good counsel, and go for safety to
Roxburgh, for if you delay, evil will be the song
that is sung of you.' But the King answered
in anger, swearing by St. Andrew, 'We are safe
enough here, and will not refuse to give battle, for
a brave man must fight for his rights. My an-
cestors held this land, and I will not yield a foot
of it while I live.'
But his men gave him better counsel, and prayed
him to leave the siege. And he yielded, and none
drew rein till they came to Roxburgh. And they
rode by night as those in haste ere any assault had
been made, or they had suffered damage.

How the Earl of Leicester came into England.

Thus Sir Richard de Lucy, with the English host,
rode secure through the wasted and ruined country,


for whereas Northumberland had been fruitful and its
people honoured, now there was great famine all
was destroyed. And he cursed the war, and thought
in his heart that he would have revenge. But there
came to him a messenger bearing tidings that the
Earl of Leicester was come into the land, having
joined with the Flemings and the French to sub-
due England.
Then Sir Richard de Lucy sought to make peace
with the King of Scotland, but there was gone out
from his host Sir Humphrey de Bohun and the
barons of Northumberland, and had set on fire Ber-
wick and all the lands around. But Sir Richard, in
his wisdom, made a truce with the King of Scotland
for Northumberland until the summer.
Now Earl Robert of Leicester was come into
Suffolk and many Flemish gentlemen with him, and
all gave way before him until he came to Dunwich.
And Earl Hugh Bigod sent messengers to the men of
Dunwich that they should join the Earl, but they
would not assent. Then the Earl of Leicester swore
he would not leave a man of them alive, and set up
the gallows to put them in fear, and armed his men
in haste to assail the town. But the burghers ran to
their defences, and each one knew his business, shoot-
ing with bows or throwing darts, and the maidens
and women carried stones to throw from the pali-
sades. So the men of Dunwich defended themselves,
and showed themselves such brave men that Earl
Robert had to leave with shame.
Then at dawn of day he said to his constables,


'Bid the men mount their horses, for I will go to
Norwich.' As for those who would know the truth
how Norwich was taken, I was not in the country
when it was besieged; but a traitor of Lorraine be-
trayed it, and so it was taken by surprise. There is
no country worth Norfolk from here to Montpellier,
no better knights nor merrier dames, except the city
of London, to which there is no peer. Ah, gentle
King of England, what love you owe to London and
her barons for they never failed their rightful lord,
but were always first in his business. But there came
messengers enough from Flanders across the sea, pro-
mising them great honours. And your son sent them
letters promising to love and cherish them all the
days of his life, and give them great things if they
would give him aid; but they would not.
The Earl of Leicester went on wasting the land
of Norfolk, having with him Flemings by hundreds
and thousands; and Earl Hugh Bigod aiding him
in everything. Then the Earl Ferrars sent him
letters, bidding him ride through the land. 'The
King of Scotland, and David his brother, and Sir
Roger de Mowbray, will go to war to succour you. If
you can ride to Leicester before Easter, you will be
able to go as far as the Tower of London.'
And the Earl asked counsel of his knights; and
his wife answered him,' Will you fear to ride because
of Humphrey de Bohun and the Earl of Arundel? The
English are good boasters, but they know not how to
fight; they are better at drinking and guzzling. The
Earl of Gloucester is to be feared; but he has your


sister to wife, and for all the wealth of France would
commit no outrage on you.'
'Dame,' said the Earl, 'I must take your counsel
for the love I bear you.' And Sir Hugh du Chastel
gave like counsel. And the Flemings were glad, and
cried aloud, 'We came not into this land to sojourn,
but to destroy the old King Henry, and get his wool!'
For most of them were weavers and not knights, and
came to get spoil: and the lands of St. Edmund's
were rich.
The Earl of Leicester was a man of great power,
but too young and childish was the courage that
made him go through England robbing and destroy-
ing, with his wife armed and bearing shield and lance.
But the lands of St. Edmund's had knights of great
power, who armed in haste. There was Walter Fitz-
Robert, and the Earl of Arundel, and Sir Humphrey
de Bohun. And the Earl of Leicester saw the armed
men approaching, and cried to Sir Hugh du Chastel,
'Let us go no further, but give battle here; see the
helmets and the hauberks shining in the sun. Bear
yourselves as knights, and woe be to the man who
flees first!'
Then was Walter Fitz-Robert the first to attack,
and fell upon the Flemings fiercely; but they were
more than he by hundreds and by thousands, and
they drove him back with his men. And he cried to
the Earl for aid, and he came on fiercely with a great
oath; and Roger Bigod also, nor was Hugh de Cressi
wanting. Robert Fitz-Bernard made great slaughter
of the strangers, and they gathered little wool that


day; but the crows and buzzards came down upon
their dead bodies. Better would have been for them
to have stayed in Flanders.
The Earl of Leicester and Sir Hugh du Chastel
were helpless in the crowd. My lady the Countess
met with a ditch, in which she was nearly drowned ;
and lost her rings in the mud. They will never be
found again, I trow. She desired drowning rather
than life; but Simon de Vahille raised her up, saying,
'Lady, come with me; so goes the fortune of war-
now gaining, and now losing!' And Earl Robert
was dismayed, and turned pale when he saw his wife
taken, and his companions killed by hundreds and by
thousands. And Sir Humphrey de Bohun and the
Earl of Arundel took him and Hugh du Chastel,
and the villagers of the country came destroying
the Flemings with forks and flails; as the knights
knocked them down, the peasants slew them, throw-
ing them into the ditches by forties and fifties, and
hundreds and thousands.
Thus Earl Robert was discomfited, and England
made more secure; but the Flemings' lot was hard.

How King William of Scotland came again into
Then, in May, when the grass was growing green,
came David of Scotland into the land, a gentle
knight, who hurt not priest, nor robbed church nor
abbey; but the King of Scotland had given him
Lennox and Huntingdon to be his man, to fight
against King Henry. And he came with helmets and


hauberks, and many fine shields; and the Earl of
Leicester's men sent to him and prayed him to come
to their castle. And he came, and won him honour
and renown.
After Easter, the King of Scotland returned to
waste Northumberland, and Roger de Stuteville had
strengthened Wark; so the King by night arrayed
many knights and sent them to Bamborough Castle,
and they did marvellous damage, for the people were
asleep in their beds. And they came to the town of
Belford and assailed it, and scattered themselves over
the country, seizing the sheep and burning the towns,
and binding and dragging away the peasants, while
the women fled miserably to the minster. And they
returned to Berwick with great spoil of cattle and
horses, fine cows and sheep and lambs, and cloth and
So the King summoned all the knights of his
land, for he would lay siege to Wark; because he had
with him Flemings and archers, and good machines
for throwing stones, and slingers and cross-bowmen.
But Roger was not dismayed, and he had more than
twenty knights with him, the best that ever lord had,
and he had strengthened his house.
Then, on a Monday morning, the Flemings began
the assault, and with marvellous boldness came within
the ditches, and they fought hand to hand, all mingled
together; shields and bucklers breaking, pennons
waving, the wounded Flemings turning back from
the portcullis, or borne away never to cry 'Arras !'
again. The assault lasted long, and Roger encour-


aged his men and exhorted them, saying, 'Shoot not
your arrows too often, for they are without, and rich
in arms; but we are shut up here, so spare your
arms, but when you see the time, defend yourselves
like knights!'
Then the King, seeing that nothing was gained,
bade them bring near the great engine for casting
stones to break down the gate. But, behold the first
stone that was cast fell backwards, and brought to
the ground one of their own knights, that, but for his
armour, he would never have returned home. Then
the King, full of rage and fury, would have set fire to
the castle, but the wind was contrary; so, having
watched all. night, at dawn of day he made his earls
and barons assemble, and said, 'Gentle knights, let us
leave this siege, for we can do nothing, and have
gained great loss; burn down your huts and fold up
your tents, and let all the host return to Roxburgh.'
And when Sir Roger heard the noise of their
departure, and saw them going away towards Rox-
burgh, he said to his men,' Rail not at them, nor cry,
nor shout; but let us praise God our Father, that He
has delivered our lives from such a proud host.' So
there were no reproaches, nor insults, but songs and
glad rejoicings; for none were slain or wounded
within the castle. But the King was sore at heart,
and swore a great oath that he would not give up the
war, though he should lose his kingdom.
Then came Roger de Mowbray to the King,
having left his castles in the care of his two eldest
sons, and prayed the. King to come against royal


Carlisle, and with him Sir Adam de Port, and they
were the best knights in the world. And the King
was glad, and went with all his host against fair Car-
lisle, the strong city. And they came where they
could see it in its beauty, with the walls and turrets
shining in the sun. And there was trembling in the
city; but Robert de Vaux encouraged them.
And the King sent Roger, and Adam, and Walter
de Berkeley to the town to Sir Robert de Vaux, say-
ing, 'Yield up to me the castle, for there is none to
succour thee ; and if thou wilt not thou shalt lose thy
head, and thy children shall die, and all thy friends
and kinsmen will I exile.' So they came to Sir Robert,
and he leant on a battlement, clad in a hauberk with
a sharp sword in his hand ; and the messengers
summoned him to give up the castle to the King of
Scotland as the rightful lord. But Sir Robert an-
swered, 'We care not for threats nor promises; but
let the King go to King Henry and complain that I
hold the castle against him, and if my lord is angry
with me, send me his message. Or give me respite
till I cross the sea and tell my lord King Henry. If
he will not, I will die here, before I surrender my
lord's castle.'
So the messengers returned and told the King;
and he went away and came to Appleby, where there
was no guard, and took it; for the constable Gos-
patrick, son of Horm, an old Englishman, soon cried
mercy. At that the King was much rejoiced, and
swore great threats against our lord, Henry Fitz-
Matilda. So they put constables and guards in the


castle, and made great rejoicings. And they went
thence to Brough and besieged it on all sides, and the
first day they took the portcullis, and those within
withdrew to the tower. Then they set fire to it, but
when the defenders saw that, they surrendered to the
King. But one knight was but that day newly come,
and when his companions rendered themselves up, he
went back to the tower and took two shields and held
the battlements long; and he threw three javelins,
and with each he killed a Scot. And when they
failed him he threw all he could find upon them,
confounding them all, and shouting, 'You are all con-
quered !' But when the fire burnt his shield he was
forced to surrender. So Brough was taken ; at which
"Robert de Vaux was somewhat dismayed. And he
sent a messenger to Richard de Lucy; but de Lucy
encouraged him, saying, that within fifteen days he
would have news of the King.
Now the Bishop of Winchester, at the prayer of
de Lucy, had gone over the sea and came to King
Henry, and said to him, 'Richard de Lucy and the
other barons who hold to you salute you by me; but
hear the truth,-there are not ten who hold to you in
right loyalty.'
Then said the King, 'What is Richard -de Lucy
doing then ? Is he on my side ?'
'Yes, sire, truly; he would rather let himself be
bound with cords than fail you.'
'And the Earl of Arundel,-is he with me, or
making war against me?'
Sire, he is ever foremost in all your affairs.'


'And Humphrey de Bohun,-is he fighting my
enemies ?'
'Sire, he is one of the most loyal to you.'
'De Stuteville, does he still hold his castle?'
'Sire, De Stutevilles are never traitors.'
'And the Bishop elect of Lincoln, can he not fight
against his enemies ?'
'Sire, he is truly your friend, and has knights and
good soldiers enough ?'
'Thomas Fitz-Bernard and his brother,-do they
go with Richard de Lucy ?'
'In truth, sire, if it please you, they are your good
friends, and Roger Bigod, who never failed you.'
'But tell me truly of my land in the north; has
not Roger de Stuteville come to terms ?'
A thousand men would die, sire, an evil death
before Roger would do you wrong !'
'Ralph de Glanville,-is he at Richmond, and Sir
Robert de Vaux ? What do those two barons ?'
Then the messenger heaved a deep sigh, and the
King asked again, 'Wherefore sigh you ? Is Robert
de Vaux a traitor ? Has he given up Carlisle?'
'Nay, he holds it nobly, like a gentle baron ; but
it is right to tell you of his danger. The King of
Scotland came riding by Carlisle the other day, and
with great threats demanded that Sir Robert de
Vaux should give up the castle to him, covenanting
to give him great gifts; but if he refused, he would
starve them all, little and great.'
'By my faith!' said the King, 'here is a good
covenant. In little time God works," as the beg-


gar says. What did the Scot do ? did he besiege
'Nay, sire, if it please you, but he took Appleby
and the Castle of Brough.'
'How !' said the King,' is Appleby taken?'
'Yes, sire, in truth, and all the country round;
and it has greatly rejoiced your mortal enemies.
Sire, I am come from Robert de Vaux, for he can get
neither wine nor corn ; nor can he get aid from Rich-
mond. If he is not succoured quickly, all will be
famished, and Northumberland will be altogether
wasted, and Odonel de Umfraville disinherited, and
New Castle upon Tyne overwhelmed, and William de
Vesci lose his lands; for the Scots, like evil spirits,
overrun everything.'
Then said the King with tears and deep sighs,
'Nay, that would be an evil thing. But what does
the Bishop of Durham ?'
'He is agreed with King William.'
'Saint Thomas guard my kingdom!' said the
King. 'But tell me, what of the barons of my city
of London ?'
'They are the most loyal people of your kingdom.
There is none in the town of age to bear arms that is
not very well armed. But Gilbert de Montfichet has
fortified his castle, and says that the Clares are allied
with him.'
'Then God guard my barons of London!' said
the King. 'But go back, Sir Bishop, to your country.
If God give me health, you shall have me in London
within fifteen days, and I will take vengeance on all


my enemies.' And he summoned his people to meet
him at Rouen.
So the Bishop returned, and Richard de Lucy
came to ask news of the King. 'Sir,' said the Bishop,
'he is a king of worth indeed, and fears neither
Flemings nor the King of St. Denis; you will see
him here in fifteen days.' Then Richard de Lucy
was glad, and sent to bid Robert de Vaux not to
fear, for he would have succour from the King; and
Robert rejoiced greatly.

How King William was taken prisoner.

Then the same day came the King of Scotland
before the town and demanded that Carlisle city and
tower should be given up, or he would take it by
force. To that answered Robert de Vaux, 'Set me a
time,-name me a day; and if the King, my lord,
does not succour me, I will render up the castle.'
And said King William, 'You will have no succour ;
I have no fear of that.' And he went to the Odonel's
castle, wishing to surprise him; but the castle was
newly fortified and he had good men and strong;
but his people, knowing the great hatred that the
King of Scotland bore him, made him go out of his
castle. So, with a heavy heart, he departed. And
the host of Scotland, Flemings, and Borderers, came
and assailed the castle with great noise and shouting,
but those within defended themselves bravely.
But Odonel rode on his hairy bay to seek for suc-
cour, and he wandered about night and day on his


good brown horse till he had got together four hun-
dred valiant knights, with shining helmets, to succour
Prudhoe with their sharp swords. And the siege
lasted three days, as I know; and Odonel's good men
within defended themselves so well, that their enemies
gained not of the castle the worth of a silver penny;
but the fields were destroyed and the gardens
trampled by these evil men; and when they could
do no more, it came into their minds to bark the
Then King William, perceiving there was no more
to be done, said to his counsellors, 'Let us go to Aln-
wick and leave this. We will let our Scots waste the
sea-coast, and woe be to them if they leave house or
minster standing; and the men of Galloway shall go
another way and kill the men in Odonel's lands; and
we will go and besiege Alnwick, and the land shall be
destroyed.' So on Friday morning the trumpets
sounded and the host departed; and he came to
Alnwick, and the Scots wasted and burnt all the
land, and the church of St. Laurence was violated
and three hundred men killed.
But Odonel rode with his proud companions,
William de Stuteville and Ralph de Glanville, Sir
Bernard de Baliol and William de Vesci. The Arch-
bishop of York sent sixty knights of his retinue.
And he came to New Castle upon Tyne at dead of
night, and he heard news of the King of Albany that
he was at Alnwick with few men, for the Scots were
spread over the country, burning and wasting. Then
the knights took counsel together, whether they


should attack him; and Odonel said, 'Shame be to
him who refuses! I will be first, for he has done me
great harm. If he wait for us to attack him, he will
be discomfited.' And Bernard de Baliol said,' Who
has not boldness enough deserves neither honour nor
lands.' And Ralph de Glanville,' Let us be wise and
send a spy to see how many they be, and we will
come after.'
So Odonel called his men, and they came by night
to Alnwick ; and the knights of the King of Scotland
said to him, 'Northumberland is yours, whoever
may laugh or weep.' But he answered, 'Let us
wait for our host, and then assault the castle.' And
because of the heat he took off his helmet and sat
down to eat, and his servants brought him food there
before the castle. But our knights were hidden by a
mist, and their spy came to them, and related to them
what he had seen. 'Then seize your arms!' .ried
Ralph de Glanville, 'and fear nothing;' and they
mounted their horses in haste, and took their arms.
The King was brave, daring, and bold, and he stood
unarmed before Alnwick.
I tell the tale as one who was there, for I saw it
myself. And one raised the war-cry of 'Vesci,' and
'Glanville knights,' and 'Baliol' others, and Odonel
and de Stuteville raised their cries. But the King,
undismayed, armed himself in haste, and mounted
a fleet horse, and rode to the fight. And he brought
the first to the ground, and made a fierce assault;
but one rushed upon him, and with a lance pierced
through his horse, and the King and his horse fell


to the ground, and the horse fell upon him, so that he
could not rise, but lay unable to help himself and his
men; and the battle was strong and fierce on both
sides. Great slaughter was made of the Flemings,
and many will never cry 'Arras!' more. But the
King lay beneath his horse, and thus I, with my own
eyes, saw him taken, as he surrendered to Ralph de
Glanville, and all his bravest knights were taken.
But our knights, loving not the Flemings, slew them
all. So the King gave himself up to Ralph, for
what else could he do ? And Ralph was glad, for
he saw that the war was at an end, and England
would have peace. And he took off his armour and
mounted him up on a palfrey, and led him away
to New Castle upon Tyne.
Now the battle was fought well on both sides.
Sir Roger de Mowbray and Sir Adam de Port fled
away in haste, for all were their enemies, and if they
were taken there would be no safety for them. Sir
Alan de Lanceles defended himself as long as he
could. He was very old, and had not jousted for
thirty years; but he was taken, and will have to pay
great ransom, for he was very rich. And William
de Mortimer did well that day, going through the
ranks like a wild boar. He met Sir Bernard de
Baliol, and bore him down and his horse, and made
him yield. And Raoul le Rus did well; but more
than a hundred assailed him, so no marvel he sur-
rendered, but he will pay dearly for this war. And
Richard Maluvel took and gave great blows, fearing
none while he was on horseback, for he had a good


horse, and he did as much as thirteen men; but he
lost his horse, for it was wounded, and fell, and
numbers came upon him crying, 'Surrender, quickly!'
So he was forced to yield in bitterness of soul. But
it would be too long to tell you of all who were
taken, for there were near a hundred whom William
de Vesci put to ransom, besides the prisoners of
Bernard de Baliol, Walter de Bolebec, Odonel, and
the others.
But it was no marvel they were discomfited, for
there lay at St. Laurence the bodies of those whom
the Scotch had murdered; and they had wounded
and ill-treated more than a thousand, that there was
weeping, and mourning, and tears. For that sin
King William was that day discomfited. So he was
lodged that night at New Castle, and the next day
Ralph de Glanville took him and brought him to
Richmond, where he should sojourn till King Henry
made known his pleasure.

How the tidings were brought to King Henry.

Now the King was come by this time to England,
and came to St. Thomas at Canterbury, and confessed
himself a sinner and repentant, and took his penance.
Then he departed and came to London; for he had
great desire to see his city and his good people.
But his heart was heavy for the Scotch war. But
when they heard in London of his coming, each one
attired himself in his richest garments, apparelling
himself in rich cloth of silk, and every one had an


ambling palfrey, and issued forth of the city. Sir
Henry le Blunt was the first to kiss the King's hand;
but you might have gone a league while the King
was receiving his barons. And he thanked them
much, saying, they were very loyal men.
'Sire,' said Gervaise Suplest, 'let be; may the day
never come when any can call the Londoners traitors!
They would rather have their limbs cut off than com-
mit treason.'
'Certainly,' said the King, 'they have a right to
boast; and I will requite them, if they have any need
of me.'
So they conveyed the King to Westminster, and
rejoiced at the coming of their lord, and gave him
presents, and did him honour. Yet he was sad still,
because of the King of Scotland and Sir Roger de
Mowbray, who were destroying his lands. But before
the right time for going to bed came, there came to
him glad tidings. Now, he was entered into his
chamber, and was suffering much-for he had not
eaten nor drunk for three days of the week, nor slept
with his eyes shut, but had travelled day and night.
So he was leaning on his elbow, and slumbering a
little, while a servant rubbed his feet. And all was
silent: there was no noise, nor any one speaking, nor
harp nor viol sounding, when a messenger came to
the door and called softly.
Then the chamberlain said, 'Who is there ?'
'I am a messenger, friend. Sir Ralph de Glan-
ville has sent me to speak to the King of a great


And the chamberlain said, 'Leave the matter till
'By my faith !' said the messenger, 'but I must
speak to him at once. My lord is sad at heart; let
me enter, good chamberlain !'
But the chamberlain said, 'I dare not do it. The
King is asleep.'
But at those words the King awoke, and heard
some one crying at the door, 'Open! open!'
'Who is that ?' said the King.
'Sire,' answered the chamberlain, 'it is a messenger
from the north. I know him well. He is Ralph de
Glanville's man; Brien is his name.'
'By my faith!' said the King, 'he wants aid. Let
him come in.'
So the messenger entered and saluted the King,
saying,'God save you, Sir King! You first, and then
your friends.'
'Brien,' said the King, 'what news do you bring ?
Has the King of Scotland entered Richmond, taken
New Castle upon Tyne ? Odonel de Umfraville is
taken or driven out, and all my barons chased out of
their lands? Tell me the truth. They have served me
badly, if I do not avenge them.'
'Sire,' said the messenger,' listen to me a little.
Your barons in the north are good men enough, and
my lord sends you by me love and greeting, and my
lady too; and he says by me that you need not bestir
yourself, for the King of Scotland is taken and all his
Then said King Henry, 'Are you speaking truth?'


'Yea, sire, truly; by the morning you will know
it. For the Archbishop of York will send you two
private messengers; but I came first, knowing the
truth. I have not slept for four days past, nor eaten
nor drunk, and I am very famished. I pray you give
me a reward.'
And the King replied, 'You need not doubt of
that. If you have spoken truly, you shall be rich
enough. But tell me the truth: Is the King of Scot-
land taken ?'
'On my faith, sire, yea! Hang me by a rope,
burn me at a stake, if I am not proved true before
midday to-morrow !'
'Then God be praised!' said the King; 'and
St. Thomas the Martyr, and all the saints!'
So the messenger went to his lodging, and had
plenty to eat and drink. And the King was so glad
at heart, that he went to his knights and woke them
all, saying, 'Barons, awake! I have that to tell you
will make you glad. The King of Scotland is taken;
they tell me it is true tidings.'
And his knights answered, 'Now God be thanked,
the war is finished, and your kingdom at peace!'
The next day, before noon, came one named
Roger from the Archbishop of York; and the King
was glad when he saw they both said the same. And
he took a little stick and gave it to Brien, that he
should have ten liveries of his land for the labour he
had had.
Then he sent messengers to David, brother of the
King of Scotland; and he was at Leicester, like a


bold vassal. And the King sent him word that the
game was played out, that there was nothing for him
but to yield and come to his mercy. And David
knew no better counsel than to give up the castle and
come to the King. Eight days were enough for all
this; and the King had peace, and his enemies were
But the news came that Rouen is besieged; so he
tarried no longer, but passed the sea, taking David
with him. And Brien returned to his lord, and told
his lord how the King would have him bring the
King of Scotland with haste to Southampton. And
the King Henry tarried at Southampton for a good
wind, and Sir Ralph de Glanville made haste to
come, leading with him the King of Scotland, sad at
heart. But when they came thither, King Henry was
in Normandy; but he had left command that he
should cross in haste, and he tarried not.
Now the King came to Rouen at dawn of day;
and by vespers peace was established, and the war
was finished.




How Saladin took the Holy City, and how King
Richard set out on a Crusade.

Now about the year 1187, it came to pass that the
Christians in the land of Syria were, for their evil
deeds, given over into the hand of Saladin, who had
before made himself Sultan of Egypt and Damascus.
He captured Acre, Berytus, and Sidon; and took
prisoner Guy, king of Jerusalem, and advanced upon
the Holy City itself. It soon fell into his hands, and
all who could not ransom themselves were made
slaves. But when the tidings of these calamities
were brought by the Archbishop of Tyre into Europe,
many were moved with compassion, and determined
upon vengeance. And first of all Richard, earl of
Poitou, assumed the cross; and after him his father,
Henry II., king of England, and Philip, king of
France, and great numbers of nobles and knights.
But before King Henry could set out on his
journey to the Holy Land, he fell sick and died; and
Earl Richard returned to England to be crowned


king. He was a man tall of stature, with auburn
hair, a commanding carriage, and limbs strong and
well made for fighting, and long arms that were un-
equalled in wielding the sword. And he made haste
to set his kingdom in order, and to collect material
for the war, and passed over into France. He bade
his ships sail round Spain and tarry for him at
Messina, and with his chosen troops he marched to
Vezelai, where he had appointed to meet King Philip.
When the two armies came together, they were
so numerous that the hills were covered with the
tents and pavilions, and it seemed as if a new city
had arisen, bright with gay pennons and standards.
There the two kings made a treaty, and swore to
keep the peace towards one another; and the two
armies set forward, and marched by Lyons to the sea
in good fellowship and brotherly kindness.
King Philip had hired Genoese ships to carry him
and his men to Messina; and he sailed in them,
having engaged to tarry at Messina for the coming of
King Richard. The English army rested at Mar-
seilles three weeks, and then took ship and sailed
between the islands of Sardinia and Corsica, and
passed the burning mountains called Vulcano and
Strango, and came to the city of Messina, where the
ships of King Richard waited for them.
Now the king of the country, whose name was
William, had lately died; and he had married King
Richard's sister, but they had no children, and the
kingdom had passed to Tancred. But the people of
the country, who were commonly called Griffons,


being many of them of Saracen blood, made them-
selves hostile to the men in our ships while they
waited for King Richard, calling them dogs, and
other evil names, and insulting them often, and even
killing some of them as they had opportunity.
When King Richard's coming was known, all the
people ran out to see him, for his fame was spread
abroad; and the sea was covered with his galleys,
glittering with arms and standards, and the prows of
the galleys were painted each with its own sign,
while the King himself was seen standing on a part of
a ship higher and more gaily painted than the rest.
And thus, with the pealing of trumpets and clarions,
he came to land, and rode amid his own men and a
crowd of the wondering people to his hostel.

Of the taking of the City of Messina, and the coming
of the Princess Berengaria.

But the disputes between the pilgrims and the
natives of the city grew hotter day by day, and when
blood was shed in these quarrels, the two kings con-
sulted with the governor of the city how peace should
be maintained between them. But while they were
in conference, there came messengers in great haste
to the King Richard, saying that the people had at-
tacked and were slaying his men. Then the King,
mounting his horse in haste, rode out to stop the
quarrel; but when he reached the place, the Lom-
bards, mad with rage, railed upon him with loud
cries. Then he drew his sword and attacked them,

r rl------

I f



and though he had but twenty men with him, they
fled before him like sheep before the wolf and ran
into their city and shut the gates. Some of them
went to King Philip, and prayed him to come to
their aid; and there are those who say he avowed
himself more ready to help them than to fight for
the King of England's men, to whom he was bound
by oath.
Then King Richard, when he saw the gates shut
against him, made a fierce assault upon the city, and
they defended themselves with stones and darts
from the walls, so that many of our men were slain.
But the King, observing a postern neglected by
the citizens, ordered an attack to be made upon
it; and the gate was broken down, and thus the
whole army entered the city. Great spoil fell into
the hands of the victors, and many of the citizens
were slain, but King Richard stopped the slaughter.
Then when King Philip saw the standard of the King
Richard on the walls of the city, he was moved with
envy, and hated Richard in his heart. And he sent
to him and bade him take down his standard and
raise in its place the standard of France. To this
Richard, angered, returned no answer; but his coun-
sellors, fearing a breach between the kings, besought
him to yield, and the standards of both the kings
were raised on the walls.
King Philip sought also to inflame the mind of
Tancred against Richard; but he, fearing the ill-will
of so great a man, made peace and an alliance with
him, and they met at the city of Fatina, midway be-


tween Palermo and Messina, and swore to keep faith
with one another.
Then, it being now Christmastide, King Richard
gave a great feast, and sent out a crier to invite all
who would come. And with all respect he sent to
the King of France; and he came with a great
number of the nobles. The feast was held in the
castle of Mategriffon, which the King had constructed
to hold the city in awe, and was celebrated with
great splendour. The dishes and platters were all of
gold and silver, curiously wrought with the chisel and
ornamented with precious stones. And when the
feast was over, he sent the most beautiful cups to the
King of France, and bade him choose which he
would have; and to the nobles also he gave gifts
according to their rank.
When the winter was past, King Philip made
ready his ships, and set sail for the Holy Land; but
King Richard stayed yet in Sicily. For tidings were
brought him that his mother, Queen Eleanor, was
coming to him, and with her was the noble daughter
of the King of Navarre, whose name was Berengaria.
For when Richard was yet Earl of Poitou, he
had seen her and loved her, and the King, her father,
sent her to him now, that he might marry her be-
fore he crossed the sea. So King Richard went out
to meet them, and brought them with great joy to
Then King Richard made ready his ships to
follow the King of France, and gave the care of them
to Robert de Torneham. And the Princess Beren-


garia, with his sister, the widowed Queen of Sicily,
he put on board a ship called a dromon. These are
heavy ships and slow in sailing, but stronger and
firmer than the galleys.
Then the great fleet put to sea with a fair breeze,
and some rowing, and some sailing, passed out of
the port of Messina; the dromons in the rear, and
the galleys going slowly that they might keep with
them. But our voyage was beset with perils and
difficulties; for first the wind dropped so that we
could not proceed, and then it rose against us and
raged so furiously that the ships would not obey
the pilots, but were driven hither and thither through
the boiling sea. But while all the others were
overcome with fear and distressed with grievous
sickness, the King unmoved bade them not despair,
and as he had the best sailors on board his ship,
he caused them to light a great wax taper, and
hoist it in a lantern on the mast, that the other ships
might see it and follow him, as a hen gathers her
chickens. And when the storm was over we came to
Crete, and waited to collect the ships; but there
were five-and-twenty that came not, at which the
King was greatly moved.
Then, when the wind was favourable, we sailed
away; but it rose again, and drove us upon the
island of Rhodes, where we tarried certain days, and
then went on our way. The royal ship being always
first, the King perceived a very large ship called a
buss bearing down, returning from Jerusalem, and
those in the ship brought him tidings that the King


of France was landed at Acre, and with all diligence
was directing the siege.
Then King Richard hasted on his journey, but
the wind being contrary, he could not make way,
and the ship in which the two queens were was the
first to reach Cyprus; but they dropped anchor
outside the port, and feared to land. For there
reigned now in that land a wicked tyrant who had
usurped the name of emperor, of whom it was re-
ported that he was in league and alliance with
Saladin, and that in sign thereof they had drunk each
other's blood. Then the storm still continuing to
rage, three of the King's ships were broken to pieces
on the shore, and many of those on board were
drowned, among whom was the King's signet-bearer.
His body being washed on shore, the signet was
found and brought afterwards to the army for sale.
Those who escaped and swam to shore, as well as
all who ventured to land, were seized by the Griffons
and stripped of their arms; neither would they allow
them to return to their ships. But when the pilgrims
saw that their lives were in danger they contrived
to meet together in a body to fight their way back
to the ships. They had no arms except three
bows; but one of them named Roger de Hardecurt
found a horse, and rode down all who opposed him,
and William du Bois shot arrows upon them unceas-
ingly, and so they advanced towards the shore. And
the soldiers on board, seeing their danger, came in
haste to their aid, and brought them in safety to
the ships.


Of the coming of Richard to Cyprus.
The same day the Emperor came into the city of
Limasol, and sought by craft and guile to allure the
queens to land, sending them presents of bread and
meat and the famed wine of Cyprus. They, fearing
to offend him, gave their promise to come to land the
next day, and, very solicitous for the safety of the
fleet, of which they knew nothing, sat gazing out to
sea, taking sad counsel with one another, when, be-
hold! in the distance appeared two black things like
crows; and as they came nearer they perceived that
they were ships, and behind came another and an-
other, until, to their great joy, King Richard, with all
his fleet, appeared in sight.
Then, when King Richard had anchored in the
port, it was told him how some of his ships had been
broken, and how his men had been stripped and
plundered by the Griffons. Being much angered,
therefore, he sent two knights to the Emperor to
demand restitution and satisfaction. But he scorned
to yield any satisfaction to a king, and answered only
with contempt and insult. So the King cried aloud,
'To arms!' and, with his men, sprang into the boats
and rowed to seize the port. Then the Griffons
blocked up the entrance with old galleys, and casks,
and piles of old wood, to obstruct their landing; and
the Emperor and his army took up their position on
the shore. They made a brave show, with costly
arms and rich, bright garments, and fine horses and
mules, eager for battle. As our men approached they


were assailed by slingers and archers from five galleys
by the shore. But our men, unmoved, attacked the
galleys and took them, and from them poured a
shower of arrows on those who held the landing-
place. The Griffons gave way a little space, but
gaining higher ground, returned the arrows upon our
men; and King Richard, seeing that his men durst
not leave their boats, sprang himself into the water
and ran boldly at the Griffons. His men, encouraged,
followed him without delay, and fell with such force
on the enemy that they gave way and fled. Then
the King, finding a horse, mounted it and rode after
the Emperor, crying to him to turn and meet him in
single combat; but he turned not, and fled away.
Thus the King took the city of Limasol, and brought
the queens to land, and rested until his horses could
be brought from the ships. But the Emperor halted
within two leagues, and when morning came he re-
turned, and, with his army, took up his stand on a
hill overlooking us. And a certain clerk, dismayed
at the sight of so great a host, said to King Richard,
'My lord the King, in good truth it would be wisest
to avoid meeting so great a multitude.' 'My lord
clerk,' answered the King, 'keep to your Scriptures,
and leave arms to us, and keep out of the crowd.'
Then, with no more than fifty men, perceiving that
the enemy hesitated, he rode upon them, and broke
their line and dispersed them, and they fled in
great dismay. He fell also upon the Emperor, and
struck him from his horse, but he mounted an-
other, and made haste to escape. And the enemy




fled, and were overwhelmed by their pursuers, and
the field was heaped with the slain. And the Em-
peror's banner was taken, and his tent, with all his
silver and gold, and splendid raiment, and a great
booty of horses and cattle and choice wine.
Then the King made a proclamation that all who
would have peace might come to him in safety, and
many forsook the Emperor, so that he fled for safety
to a fort called Nicosia.

Of the Marriage of Richard and Berengaria and the
Conquest of Cyprus.

Now about this time there came into the port
three galleys, bringing King Guy of Jerusalem and
his followers; and he had come to ask the help of
King Richard against King Philip of France, who
wished to depose him and make the Marquis Conrad
king in his place. And King Richard received him
kindly, and gave him great gifts.
Being now established in safety at Limasol, King
Richard celebrated with great splendour his marriage
with Berengaria, daughter of the King of Navarre,
and there were present at the ceremony the Arch-
bishop and the Bishop of Evreux, and a great con-
course of nobles.
Then the Masters of the Hospitalers of Jerusalem
brought about a meeting between the victorious king
and the Emperor of Cyprus. The Emperor desired
much to have peace, because for his cruelty his people
hated him, and he feared to trust them. They met


together in a plain near Limasol, and the King rode
to the place on a Spanish horse of such beauty that
no painter could have designed one more perfect in
form. The King was clothed in a garment of rose
colour, ornamented with rows of crescents of solid
silver, and on his head a scarlet hat with beasts and
birds worked in gold upon it. His saddle was of
bright colour, spangled with gold, and behind were
two golden lions with their mouths open about to
attack one another. He wore golden spurs and a
sword of proved metal with a golden hilt, and he
rode like a noble soldier, so that all who saw him
wondered at him.
Thus the King and the Emperor met and made
peace, and the Emperor agreed to give up his castles
into the hands of the King, and to send with him five
hundred knights to fight for Jerusalem; and the
King engaged to give back the castles if the Emperor
kept faith. Moreover, the Emperor agreed to pay
five hundred marks to those whom he had plundered.
So they kissed one another and swore peace and
friendship, and the King returned to Limasol, and
sent to the Emperor the pavilion that he captured in
the battle. But a knight named Pain de Caiffa went
to the Emperor and falsely told him that King
Richard purposed to seize him and throw him in
chains. Therefore, moved with fear, he fled by night
to his city of Famagusta. Thus the war broke out
again, for the King pursued him in his galleys, and
his army marched against him, being led by King
Guy. The Emperor hid in the woods, and when the


King, having landed at Famagusta, marched upon
Nicosia, he laid an ambush for him, and attacked
him suddenly with seven hundred Greeks, shooting
poisoned arrows at the King. Then King Richard,
urging his horse, bore down upon him with his spear;
but the Emperor fled away, and, being mounted on
a horse unmatched for speed, escaped. The people
of Nicosia opened their gates to the King, and he
received them into his favour; but all who fell
into the Emperor's hands were tortured and cruelly
King Guy took two of the Emperor's castles, and
the Emperor's daughter and all his treasure fell into
his hands. So when the Emperor knew that his
people hated him, and that his forts were taken, and
his daughter, whom he loved tenderly, was a captive,
he came and fell down at King Richard's feet and
submitted himself to him; only he prayed him that
he would not put him in iron chains. And the King,
moved with pity, raised him up, and made him sit
beside him, and gave him silver chains instead of iron
ones, and brought his daughter to him.
Thus King Richard conquered Cyprus in fifteen
days, and obtained great spoil of gold, and silver, and
precious cloths. And to King Guy he committed the
custody of the Emperor, and his little daughter he
gave to the Queen that she might bring her up. And
having appointed trusty men to transmit to him corn
and meat, he took ship and sailed with all his fleet
and the two queens for the Holy Land.
And as they came near the land, and were now


off Sidon, there appeared in sight a great ship filled
with Saracens going to aid their countrymen in Acre.
Then the King sent Peter des Barres, captain of one
of his galleys, to ask who they were, and they answered
that they belonged to the King of France. So the King
came near to the ship, and it was of great size and
strongly made, with three tall masts, and painted with
red and yellow lines; but he saw no Christian stan-
dard, and he doubted in himself who they were. So
he sent others again to ask whence they came, and
they answered they were Genoese bound for Tyre.
Then the sailors were assured that they were Saracens,
and at the King's command a galley rowed after them
quickly; and when the Saracens saw that they did
not salute them, they began to throw darts at them.
So the King bade attack the ship; but as our men
rowed round it, it seemed so high, and strong, and
well defended, that they feared to begin. But the
King, chiding their cowardice, urged them to the at-
tack, and some of them sprang into the water and
bound the rudder with cords to stop the ship, and,
climbing up the cables, leapt on board. The Turks
met them bravely, cutting off their hands as they
clung to the ship and flinging them back into the
The fight lasted long; the Turks were driven back
to the prow, but new defenders came from within the
ship, and the Christians were forced back into their
galleys. Then the King bade them row the galleys
against the ship's side and strike it with their iron
beaks, and thus they pierced the ship's sides and it


began to fill. Thirty-five of the Turks, who were men
of consequence or of skill in handling machines, the
King saved alive, but the rest were killed, or perished
in the water.

Of the coming of Richard to Acre, and the taking
of the City.

Then the King, after this victory, sailed on till he
came in sight of Acre. And there, round the walls,
lay the great army of the besiegers, from every
Christian land under heaven; and beyond it might
be seen, dispersed upon the hills and in the valleys
and plains, the brightly coloured tents of the Turkish
army. There was the pavilion of Saladin himself,
and of his brother Saphadin, and of Kahadin, the
mainstay of Paganism. It was the Saturday in the
Pentecost week that King Richard landed at Acre,
and the earth shook with the exultant shouts of the
Christians. The day was kept as a festival, and far
into the night was heard the sound of the trumpets
and pipes and the songs of the rejoicing soldiers,
while the darkness was dispersed by the glare of
torches till the Turks thought the valley was on fire.
But the Turks were much cast down and dejected.
But after a few days the King fell sick, and his
sickness was so sore that he could not go out to fight,
though he busied himself with preparation of machines
of war. The King of France then, not willing to wait
till King Richard should be recovered, on the Monday
after the Feast of Saint John the Baptist bade make


a great assault on the city. Then the Turks within
made a great clamour and beat platters and timbrels
to call upon Saladin to come to their aid. And his
men fell upon us and fought so fiercely that the pil-
grims were forced to give up the attack on the city to
defend themselves; and those in the city threw Greek
fire on the machines of the King of France and
destroyed them. Then the King Philip fell sick from
vexation and confusion.
And when he was recovered, he made new ma-
chines, and one there was which he called' Bad neigh-
bour.' And the Turks had one which they called
' Bad kinsman,' and which often broke Bad neighbour;
but the King built it again, and with it he broke down
part of the wall and shook the tower Maledictum. And
the other leaders had also machines which did much
harm to the Turks; and there was one petraria called
the 'Petraria of God,' for a priest stood by it preaching
and gathering money to work it. King Richard had
two which were worked unceasingly; and he con-
structed others to shoot at great distances,-one called
' Berefred,' covered with hides, and so strong that it
could not be broken or burnt. From one of his
engines he shot into the city a great stone which he
had brought from Messina, which killed twelve men
with its blow. And besides the engines for throwing
stones, the King of France had made one for scaling
the walls, which was called the 'Cat,' because it crept
up the walls and held on to it; and a cercleia, which
was a shelter of hides under which he could sit and
shoot at the city; but the Turks burnt the cat and


the cercleia with Greek fire. King Richard caused
himself to be carried in a silken bed and laid under a
cercleia that thence he might shoot from his arbalest
and encourage his men, and he promised them rewards
for every stone they should displace from the wall.
And many men fell by his arbalest, and among them
a Turk who was dressed in the armour of a Christian
whom he had slain.
Then the Turks, finding that their walls were
shaken by undermining and by the blows of the ma-
chines, and many of their men slain in the assaults,
sent two of their leaders to treat, offering to give up
the city if they might leave it with all their arms and
goods. King Philip gave his assent, but King Richard
would not agree, after so long a siege, to win back a
deserted city. Then many of the Turks in their fear
escaped from the beleaguered city, and coming to the
Christians, besought baptism that they might thus
escape from destruction.
But Saladin, perceiving that it would be vain to
hope that the city could hold out longer, consented
that they should make peace on what terms they
could. Then the chief men in the city went to the
Christian kings and offered to give up the city, and
the Holy Cross, and two hundred and fifty captives if
they might depart from the city in their shirts only,
leaving behind them all their arms and goods and
paying for their ransom 200,000 Saracen talents; and
to these terms the kings gave consent. So, having
given up their noblest men as hostages, and having
bound themselves by an oath to deliver the Holy


Cross and the captives within a month's space, they
departed out of the city; and our men marvelled
much to witness their composed countenances, un-
subdued by adversity and the loss of all their goods.
And when the Turks were all departed out of the
city, the Christians marched into it with shouts of joy
and triumph and songs of praise, and the kings set
up their banners on the walls and divided the city
between them,- King Philip had the palace of the
Templars, and King Richard the royal palace, into
which the queens entered with their handmaids.

Of the departure of the King of France and the
march of the army.

Then arose great discord between the kings touch-
ing King Guy and the Marquis, for King Philip wished
to give all to the Marquis. And the quarrel grew hot
between them; but by the princes' mediation, it was
agreed that the Marquis should have the government
of Tyre and should become king when King Guy
should die; and it was further agreed that if the
Marquis should die while King Richard were in that
land, the crown should be left to him to dispose of as
he should see best. Thus peace was made between
them. But King Philip determined to return to his own
land, saying he was sick; and though his men mur-
mured sore and pleaded with him to remain, he
embarked in a galley that he had begged of King
Richard, and sailed away on St. Peter's Day, having
sworn to do no harm nor damage to the men or lands


of the King of England while he was absent in the
Holy Land.
King Richard tarried at Acre repairing the walls,
and waiting until Saladin should fulfil his covenant
and send back the Cross and the captives, but when
the time was now passed, and he saw that the un-
believers would not keep to their promises, he com-
manded that the hostages should be put to death,
and that the army should make ready to go to Asca-
lon. But the Marquis withdrew himself to Tyre, and
would no longer stay with the army. And as our
army began to move out of the camp they were
attacked by the Turks, and the Count of Hungary
and King Richard's Marshal, Hugh of Poitou, were
carried away prisoners, though the King fought hard
to save them. But the Turks, not being oppressed
with heavy armour, rode more swiftly than the
Christians could, and, like flies, fled away when the
King attacked them, but returned as soon as he
On the feast of St. Bartholomew the army, having
passed out of the city, was drawn up on the sea-
shore. The King led the vanguard and the Normans
guarded the Standard. It was like the mast of a ship,
bound with iron and fixed on four wheels, with the
banner of the King floating on the top. The French,
led by the Duke of Burgundy, were in the rear. Thus
the army marched along the sea-shore, the Turks
watching from the heights. And as the Christians
came to a narrow way and were in confusion, the
Saracens attacked them suddenly and a fierce fight


began. One of the Bishop. of Salisbury's men, by
name Everard, had his right hand cut off by a Turk,
but, without changing countenance, he seized his
sword with his left hand and closed with the enemies
that were pressing on him. Then King Richard
riding to the spot drove off the Turks and made
them flee to the mountains.
Now on this march the Christians were sore
troubled by a venomous animal called Tarrentes,
which by night stung them much, and the place which
was stung swelled greatly and was filled with pain.
But observing the matter, it was perceived that the
Tarrentes feared greatly loud noises, and by beating
together their basons and platters and other instru-
ments the pilgrims drove them away.
Thus they marched till they came to Caesarea,
constantly fearing the attacks of the Turks, and suf-
fering much from heat and weariness, so that many
fell dead by the way. And each night ere they lay
down to rest, one cried aloud in the midst of the
camp, 'Help for the Holy Sepulchre !' and they all,
with many tears, holding up their hands to heaven,
cried, 'Help for the Holy Sepulchre !'
Then the pilgrims, leaving Casarea, came to
the Dead River and passed on to the Salt River,
and the Turks kept near and shot darts and arrows
upon them as thick as hail. King Richard was
wounded in the side by a dart, and the horses died
fast. From the Salt River they came to the forest of
Arsur, and by the river there waited for them the
army of the Turks innumerable.


Of the Battle of Arsur and the wonderful victory
of the Christians.
King Richard marshalled his army, the Templars
being in the first rank, the men of Brittany and
Anjou next after them, then the men of Poitou, under
King Guy, and the Normans and the English with
the Standard, and, last of all, a chosen body of Hos-
pitallers. And so closely were they ordered that an
apple could not have fallen among them without
touching man or horse. King Richard and the Duke
of Burgundy, with some chosen men, rode up and
down to watch the Turks.
About nine o'clock in the morning a great multi-
tude of Turks, in number about 10,000, came upon
the Christians in a furious assault, throwing darts and
arrows and shouting horribly. Among them were
men very black in colour, and also the Saracens who
live in the desert, called Bedouins, very rapid in their
movements and carrying bows and arrows and a round
shield. Behind them came the squadrons of the
Turks with ensigns on their lances. There seemed to
be more than 20,000 of them, and they came like
lightning, raising a cloud of dust, so that they dark-
ened all the heavens; and they had trumpets and
horns, cymbals and gongs, making a horrible, dis-
cordant clamour. They came upon us from the side
of the sea and from the side of the land, and they
seemed to cover all the ground for a distance of two


The pilgrims, hemmed in on all sides, marched on
in a compact body, while the Turks assailed them
before and behind, repelling their attacks as well as
they were able without leaving the body. They suf-
fered greatly from the heat and from the pressure, for
they were scarce able to breathe; and the Hos-
pitallers, being in the rear, could not return the blows,
but marched on, bearing the blows of the Turks,
which fell on their armour as on an anvil. But the
Christians' courage did not fail, and the Turks cried
aloud that 'they were made of iron.'
At last the Hospitallers were unable to endure
patiently any longer, and the Marshal and another
knight, named Baldwin de Carreo, broke from the
ranks and rode at the enemy, crying to St. George
for aid. They were followed by all the Hospitallers,
so that the rear was soon in the front of the army.
Then the Count of Champagne and Jacques d'Avennes
Count Robert of Dreux and the Bishop of Beauvais,
his brother, and many others, charged fiercely upon the
Saracens. The Turks gave way before them, and the
ground was strewn with the slain. The King, burst-
ing through the Hospitallers, cut out a path for him-
self among the enemy, mowing them down as a
reaper does the corn.
Thus the Turks were overcome and dispersed,
and their army turned into a crowd of fugitives,
but when our men ceased from the pursuit they
gathered together again, and more than 20,000,
armed with heavy maces, began the battle again.
They were led by a kinsman of Saladin, named Taki-


eddin, a bitter hater of the Christians, and he had
with him more than 700 chosen men of valour of
the body-guard of Saladin, bearing yellow banners.
They fell upon a body of the Christians before they
had fallen into their ranks round the Standard, and
overwhelming them with their numbers grievously
distressed them. But a brave knight, named William
des Barres, with his men, attacked the Turks, and
King Richard seeing their dangerous position mounted
a bay Cyprian horse and rode into their midst and
drove all before him.
The enemy fled away, and the Christians, gather-
ing round the Standard, marched forward till they
came to Arsur. There they pitched their tents, but
ere the camp was formed a large body of Turks fell
upon the rearguard. But King Richard, hearing
the cry of his men, ran hastily to the place with
only fifteen of his followers, crying with a mighty
voice, '0 God, help us and the Holy Sepulchre!' At
which his men hasted to follow him, and drove away
the Turks, pursuing them to the walls of Arsur and
cutting down many as they fled. And of those who
fell on that day there were found on the field of
battle the bodies of thirty-two Turks, whom, from
the splendour of their armour, the Christians thought
to be mighty chiefs, besides many lesser captains.
Of the Christians fell but few, but there died there
the great captain Jacques d'Avennes, who, having
fallen from his horse, was surrounded by the Turks
and overcome. And the Christians, mourning greatly
for his fall, sent a company of Hospitallers and


Templars the next day to seek for his body, and they
found it covered with wounds, and around lay the
bodies of fifteen Turks whom he had slain ere he
died. Then they bore him back to Arsur, and buried
him there with great weeping, and wailing, and
The great battle of Arsur spread dismay in the
hearts of the Turks, and the name of Melech Ric
was feared throughout the land. Then Saladin gave
command to pull down the walls of the fortresses, lest
King Richard should take them and make himself
strong in them. And when the Christians were come
to the city of Joppa, lo! the city was destroyed, that
they could find no lodging there, and they encamped
in an olive-garden without the town, and refreshed
themselves with the figs and grapes and pomegran-
ates and citrons that grew in the land.

How William de Pratelles gave himself up for the King,
and of the deeds of the Earl of Leicester.
Then tidings came that the Turks were pulling
down the walls of Ascalon, and King Richard coun-
selled to march at once thither and save it. But the
French wished rather to rebuild Joppa, and their
counsel prevailed. But while they tarried there the
Christians gave themselves to sloth and ease.
About this time it happened that King Richard,
having ridden to take his pastime in hawking, and
having with him but few of his men, being wearied
with his sport, lay down and fell asleep. And while


he slept there came suddenly upon him a company,
hoping to make him prisoner. The King awakened
by the noise threw himself on his horse, and his at-
tendants following him, drove off the assailants, but
they in fleeing drew him to a spot where lay other
Turks hidden. The King being surrounded by them
fought bravely and defended himself well, but there
were so many of them that he would have fallen into
their hands, had not one of his knights, named William
de Pratelles, cried out that he was the Melech, and the
Turks hearing his words seized him and carried him
away prisoner. Thus the King had time to escape,
and when he came to the town he found his soldiers
coming out to his help, for they had heard of his
danger. Then he returned and pursued the Turks,
hoping to set free William de Pratelles, but they were
got away. Then the soldiers prayed the King not to
endanger his life any more. Nevertheless he was
ever the first to attack and the last to retreat.
Then the King, with a part of the army, went to
rebuild the forts of Plans and Maen, which the Turks
had destroyed. And it fell out one day that they had
gone out to gather fodder for their horses, and while
the esquires were busy gathering it, the Templars
kept guard over them. Then there fell suddenly
upon them a company of 4000 horsemen, which when
they saw they dismounted, and standing back to
back, defended themselves as well as they could.
And when three of them were fallen, there came to
their aid Andrew de Chamgui and fifteen knights;
but the Turks continued to attack them. Then the


King, hearing the noise, sent to their help the Count
de Saint Paul and the Earl of Leicester, and seizing
his arms followed them. Then the Earl of Leicester
came and saved two whom they had taken prisoners,
and distinguished himself by his bravery. But when
the King reached the place, the battle was still raging,
for the enemy was so many in number; and some of
his men, seeing the strength of the enemy, counselled
him to save himself, and not attempt to rescue his
men. But the King, growing red with anger, an-
swered, 'What! Shall I send my men on to fight,
promising to come and help them, and then leave
them in the battle? I should not be worthy of the
name of a king.' And without another word he
spurred his horse and fell with such force into the
thickest ranks of the Turks, that he broke their array
and rode through them, cutting down on all sides,
and returning dispersed them all; and, among many
others, a great admiral, named Aralchais, fell by his
hand. And the whole company fled, and the Christians
returned with some prisoners to the camp.
When the castles were now about to be finished,
King Richard sent ambassadors to Saladin to demand
that the land of Syria should be given up, and that
the kingdom of Babylon should pay tribute. Saladin,
being crafty, would not refuse the King's demand,
but deluded him with promises, and sent his brother
Saphadin to him with rich gifts. And there arose a
murmuring among the Christians that King Richard
was friendly to the Gentiles. But when the King
saw that the promises of Saphadin were vain, he


would no longer listen to him, but fought more
bravely than before to wipe out the reproaches that
were brought against him.
The Earl of Leicester, attacking a large company
of Turks with but few men, made them flee before
him ; but three of his knights, pursuing them with too
great boldness, were taken prisoners, which when the
Earl perceived, he rode to their aid. He had driven
them over a river, when 500 fresh Turks came up and
surrounded him. Many of his knights were wounded,
and he himself was thrown off his horse and nearly
drowned in the river. But two of his knights suc-
coured him; and one of them, named Robert of New-
bury, gave him his own horse. Though they fought
as long as they could, the numbers were so great that
they could defend themselves no longer; but holding
by the necks of their horses, and bearing silently the
rain of blows, were led away prisoners. But aid was
near. Andrew de Chamgui and other knights came
spurring to the spot, and the fortune of battle turned
against the Turks. The Earl fought fiercely. Two
horses were killed under him. Never did so small a
man perform such great deeds; and at last victory
stayed with him.

Of the rebuilding ofAscalon, and the discord among
the Christians.

The castle being now repaired, the army of the
Christians was commanded to leave the plains and to
march to the foot of the mountains, that they might


be ready to go up to Jerusalem. And Saladin, being
aware of it, went himself to Jerusalem, giving com-
mand to his army to occupy the mountains; and
there fell upon the Christians a storm of rain and hail,
which blew down the tents and did great damage to
the food, spoiling the biscuits and bacon. Many of
the horses also were drowned in the flood, and the
armour and coats-of-mail became so rusty that it
needed much labour to make them bright again.
Many, also, of the pilgrims fell sick. But so great
was their joy at the hope of seeing Jerusalem, that
they bore their sufferings with cheerfulness, and
eagerly desired to continue the march. Neither
would the sick be left behind, but caused themselves
to be borne in litters; and some of them fell into the
enemies' hands, and were martyred without mercy.
But the Templars and Hospitallers, and the wise
men, prayed King Richard not to march yet to Jeru-
salem, for they feared that the siege would be long,,
and the army in the mountains would do them hurt.
Neither if the city were captured had they men with
whom to garrison it, for all longed sore to return
home. They counselled rather to defer the siege of
Jerusalem until the walls of Ascalon should be rebuilt.
And when it was known that their counsel had pre-
vailed, the pilgrims grieved sore, and cried out curses on
those evil counsellors; and it seemed now impossible
to bear the sufferings from the rain and want of food,
which a little before had seemed so light. Many of
them left the army, especially of the French, going to
Acre or Joppa, or joining the Marquis at Tyre.


But King Richard, with his nephew the Count
Henry of Champagne, and the rest of the army,
marched in great suffering and distress to Ascalon;
and Saladin, hearing that the Christians had returned
to the sea-shore, sent his army to their homes. And
the King, by entreaties and persuasion, drew back to
the camp those who had forsaken it; and they began
to rebuild the city of Ascalon. All worked together,
side by side; princes and nobles carried the stones,
and clerks and laymen, knights and retainers, built
together. The King himself was active in the work,
building with his own hands, and encouraging his
men, and giving money to those who were in need.
At that time the King, going one day to recon-
noitre the fort of Darum, came suddenly upon a body
of Turks who were taking Christian captives for sale.
And when they saw the King's banner they fled in
dismay, and got them safe into the fort, leaving the
captives without; and the King came and set them
free. There were twelve thousand men who were thus
saved by the King from slavery.
But the discord waxed strong in the Christian
camp; and the Duke of Burgundy went away and
came to Acre. And he found the city in disorder,
for the party of King Guy was fighting with the
party of the Marquis. Then the Marquis sailed in
his galley to Acre, hoping to take possession of
the city, but his adversaries sent and prayed to
King Richard to come to their aid. The Marquis
in haste returned to Tyre, and King Richard quieted
and appeased the people. And when he could not


prevail upon the Marquis to be at peace with him,
and help in the war with Saladin, he took counsel
with the leaders in the army, and adjudged him to
have lost all right to his kingdom. But the French
joined with the Marquis, and seven hundred soldiers
left the camp at Ascalon and marched away from
the camp.
While the King tarried at Acre, there came to
nim the son of Saphadin, that the King might make
him a knight; and on Palm Sunday, with great
magnificence, the King girded him with the belt of
Then the King, having celebrated the feast of
Easter at Ascalon with great feasting and rejoicing,
and the city being rebuilt, went out to reconnoitre
Gaza. But Saladin assembled his army and prepared
for war; and he was greatly encouraged because of
the departure of the French, and trusted soon to
recover Acre and Tyre.

How the Marquis Conrad was chosen King, and how
he was slain by two young men.

But before the war was begun again there landed
in the country the Prior of Hereford, and he came
with evil tidings to King Richard. For Earl John,
the King's brother, had driven out of England the
King's Chancellor, and the others whom the King
had appointed to govern in his absence, and had
seized the King's revenues, and made the nobles
swear allegiance to him. Then the King assembling