This to the English seemed God’s will. But the Franks became indignant, and having got to Ramlah declared they would retreat still further to Joppa or to Acre. He urged them to stay a little longer, saying they would be provisioned at his expense if they would succor the Holy Land. They would not and demanded from Richard a safeguard. He assigned the Templars. He rode a while with the Franks, tears in his eyes, imploring them to stay, but they felt discontented. Certain of these pilgrims marched north as far as Tyre. Foolish people not understanding events therefore mocked the Franks, called them a pigeon-hearted race. But to whom did His Holiness Urban turn for help against the Turk?
Enough. Why invoke the past? Geoffrey tells how these recalcitrant knights succumbed to lewd song and debauchery, banqueted among harlots, girdled their waists with embroidered belts, fastened their sleeves with gold chain, hung jeweled collars around their necks, made for themselves pretty crowns of bright flowers. Not falchions did they carry but enameled goblets and exulted in dancing women. Being heated with lust they swaggered and lurched to the houses of prostitutes where they shouted oaths if the door should be closed against them and broke it down to have their way. Not all behaved in such wise. More than one expressed regret for the discord with Richard.
Meantime the Plantagenet brought his English host from Ramlah to Ascalon where he set them to work strengthening walls, for he knew well enough how soldiers need activity lest they provoke mischief. They worked throughout the winter and made Ascalon the sturdiest of castles. All engaged at this labor, princes, knights, squires, clerics, retainers, all joined to lug stone. In ancient days five turrets were named for those that constructed them. Criminals built the bloody turret, women that of the maidens, emirs another, Bedouin another. The strongest they called for the son of Noah, Ham, whose thirty-two sons built the city with help from subjugated people. At the direction of King Richard all were fortified.
Saladin elected to loiter about Jerusalem. Easter Eve he visited the Holy Sepulcher because of what he had been told, that divine fire would kindle the lamp. With his retinue he went and observed and listened to the devotion of captives beseeching God for mercy. And the flame descended. Turks scoffed, telling each other this was some fraudulent contrivance, but Christians rejoiced. Saladin ordered the lamp extinguished, which was done. Instantly the flame rekindled. Again the sultan had it put out. Again it lighted itself. A third time he ordered the lamp extinguished. But the patience of our Lord is everlasting, nor is there counsel against His wish. For a third time the flame descended. Saladin wondered and felt confused and declared by the spirit of prophecy that he must lose possession of Jerusalem or die, which prophecy came true since he would die the Lent following.
It was about this time that King Richard narrowly missed death. Not long after the feast of Saint Alphage he went riding and startled a boar. The monster having heard the noise of his party came forth to block the path, foaming, maddened, ears erect, hair bristling up. Nor would it move when the king shouted. And if he would circle it, then would the creature whirl about to menace him with tusks. So the king gripped his lance like a hunting spear and tried to pierce the animal but the cane lance broke. Then the boar, wounded to fury, a length of cane protruding from its breast, charged King Richard who laid spurs to his mount and fairly leapt over it. They say the hinder trappings of his horse were ripped away and only that length of cane in the animal’s breast prevented it from closing. Again they charged one another and the king with his sword smote the boar when it passed and wheeling about slashed the sinews, after which he consigned it to his huntsmen. Thus by the grace of Providence he did not lose his life.
Presently came news of how the king’s brother Earl John fomented unrest at home. Unless such disloyalty were checked the king stood in peril. Chancellor William by letter urged him to return, saying that he and others deputed to govern in Richard’s absence were insolently expelled, some killed in riots. The king was astonished, but confided little while turning things over in his mind. He had traveled countless leagues and endured so much for the sake of Jerusalem. Now it appeared he should quit the journey if he would not have the heritage of his fathers wrested away. Therefore he summoned a council of barons, telling them he must leave and they should decide who ought to wear the crown of Jerusalem. Would they have Guy de Lusignan or Marquis Conrad de Montferrat? The barons had great respect for Conrad, small use for Guy. This being how it was, King Richard despatched his nephew Henry to notify Conrad in the city of Tyre.
When the marquis learned he would be king he stretched up his hands in prayer. O Lord God! he cried. Thou who infused this body with life, who art just and merciful, I pray Thee. If Thou thinkest me deserving, grant me to see myself crowned. Yet if it shall be otherwise, consent not to my promotion.
And when it became known across the city that he would be king there was extravagant rejoicing. Inhabitants got ready what they had. They borrowed money to buy new robes because they wished
