Thus he was taken captive. He had ridden with Geoffrey de Sargines to the rear guard and was riding a stout little cob with silk housing but grew very weak. Lord Geoffrey took him to a nearby hamlet. He was carried more dead than alive into the house of a woman who by chance had been born in Paris. None thought he could live till sunrise. His teeth clattered, his skin like a winding sheet, flux having drained his body so every bone poked out. With him at this extremity was a single attendant, Isambart, the rest having succumbed to disease. Isambart cooked for his majesty and baked bread, dressed and undressed him, carried him outside to void his bowel. According to what Isambart later said, King Louis endured each humiliation with noble patience and was steadily at prayer.
During the illness he was protected by a most courageous knight, Gautier de Châtillon. There was but one road through this hamlet and if enemies appeared either way the knight would charge furiously. I was informed by Jean Fouinon that as he himself was led captive to Mansourah he noticed a Turk riding Gautier’s horse, the crupper smeared with blood. Jean inquired how the Turk came by it and was told that he had cut the owner’s throat.
I learnt also what happened to Jacques de Castel, bishop of Soissons. When he saw our people in retreat he rode forth by himself against these villains and was slashed to death. I believe he had no wish to see France again. The saintly man had but one desire, which was to be with God. Beyond doubt he joined an illustrious company of martyrs.
At this time his majesty’s consort Queen Marguerite lay abed in Damietta prepared to give birth. Three days before the event she learnt of our defeat. Then she summoned a venerable knight of eighty who by custom slept at the foot of her bed, for it appeared that Egyptians would take the city. By the troth you have plighted, said Queen Marguerite, if Saracens enter Damietta I beg you to grant my wish. When they come for me you must cut off my head. My Lady, responded this good old knight, be assured. Already I had decided they should never take you.
No more was she delivered of a son, Jean, called Jean Tristram owing to the sadness of those days, when she found out that merchants from Pisa and Genoa and other cities were making ready to depart. She summoned the most influential merchants and beseeched them to have pity, if not upon her, then upon the weak creature at her breast. How should we stay? they answered. We are dying of hunger. The queen replied that she would purchase food at the king’s expense to keep them all from starvation. And they, smelling profit, informed her majesty that they would remain. Thus do men consummate their office.
King Louis knew nothing of such matters while he languished near death in a house menaced by the sultan’s army. Philippe de Montfort arrived to say he had talked with an emir concerning a truce and if the king so wished he would again consult the emir. Through negotiation they might agree on terms. King Louis said he was willing. Some agreement was reached, whereupon the emir pulled off his turban and a ring from his finger to signify that it would be honored. But all at once a sergeant rode around camp shouting that the king had surrendered. It may be that terror stripped his wits or Egyptians bribed him to do what he did. However this came about, our people laid aside their weapons. Now the emir told Lord Philippe there would be no truce because already we were surrendering. Hence the army was rounded up, all taken captive. Was this the will of God? If so, how mightily we must have sinned. I think we were not far from that place where Sultan al-Kamil nearly drowned King John and his army in the year of our Lord 1221.
Muslim chronicles relate that when Turanshah knew we were defeated he camped along the Nile and devoted himself to lechery. Being anxious to acquaint the world with his triumph he wrote to Emir Djemal Edden who was governor of Damascus, claiming in this letter to have slaughtered thirty thousand Christians, apart from those who leapt into the river, apart from innumerable prisoners slain whose bodies joined the current. And like some noisy ass Turanshah brayed how the king of the Franks implored clemency. Further, Turanshah sent to Damascus his majesty’s cap, which was scarlet and lined with soft fur. They say the governor decided to wear this cap while reading Turanshah’s letter in public. Also, a Muslim poet wrote a verse declaring the cap of the Frank to be white as paper, which changed to red when dyed with Christian blood by the sword of Islam.
These infidels believe our king retreated ignominiously to a hillock and there surrendered to the eunuch Djemaddelin on condition that his life be spared. They believe he was taken to Mansourah in shackles. They believe that Muslim soldiers felt embarrassed by the abject submission of countless Franks. I do not know how many lies were told about us. I have heard that each night Turanshah had three hundred
