Louis IX Leads The Last Crusade

Introduction
Louis IX, King of France, 1226-1270, was at once a monarch of great ability and a man of intense religious spirit. Naturally, in such a time as that of his reign, a man like Louis would be a crusader. His first expedition–called the Seventh Crusade, 1248-1254–was directed against Egypt. He captured Damietta in 1249 and pushed into the interior, but was defeated by the Egyptian Sultan and taken prisoner with his entire army. He was liberated on the surrender of Damietta and the payment of a large ransom, and in 1254 he returned to France.

The state of Europe meanwhile had become unfavorable to further prosecution of the crusades, and Louis was the only monarch who longer took a serious interest in the fate of the Christian colonies of Asia. He also wished to avenge the honor of the French arms in Egypt, and so at length he planned a new expedition against the Moslems in that country. But he long kept this purpose a secret “between God and himself.” Louis consulted Pope Clement IV, who at first tried to discourage the perilous enterprise; but finally the Pontiff gave his approval, and while admitting no others as yet into his designs, Louis quietly made preparation and awaited the favorable hour.

At last, the great Parliament of France being assembled in the hall of the Louvre, the King entered, bearing in his hand the crown of thorns of Christ. At sight of this, the whole assembly became aware of the monarch’s intentions, which he now fully made known, exhorting all who heard him to take the cross. A sad surprise fell upon the reluctant parliament; but Louis was strongly seconded by the Pope’s legate, and many of the prelates, nobles, and knights received the cross.

Notwithstanding the deep regret which spread among his people, who felt the need of their sovereign’s presence for keeping peace and order in the kingdom, and also feared for his own safety — his health being greatly impaired–there was profound respect for the motives of Louis and general acquiescence in his determination. Among many this resignation gave place to zealous devotion, and “the warlike nobility of the kingdom only thought of following their King in an expedition which was already looked upon as unfortunate.” Final preparations were accordingly made for Louis’ undertaking.

Why couldn’t he have stayed home and attended to the internal improvements of his kingdom and the happiness and the prosperity of his people instead? That was God’s work, too and of far greater importance.

This selection is from History of the Crusades by Joseph François Michaud published in 1840. For works benefiting from the latest research see the “More information” section at the bottom of these pages.

Joseph François Michaud (1767-1839) was a French historian and newspaperman who opposed the French Revolution. He was perpetually in trouble with the authorities as the regimes changed.

Time: 1270
Place: Egypt

While all France was engaged in preparing for the expedition beyond the seas, the crusade was preached in the other countries of Europe. A council was held at Northampton, in England, in which Ottobon, the Pope’s legate, exhorted the faithful to arm themselves to save the little that remained of the kingdom of Jerusalem; and Prince Edward took the cross, to discharge the vow that his father, Henry III, had made when the news reached Europe of the captivity of Louis IX in Egypt. After the example of Edward, his brother, Prince Edmund, with the earls of Pembroke and Warwick, and many knights and barons, agreed to take arms against the infidels. The same zeal for the deliverance of the holy places was manifested in Scotland, when John Baliol and several nobles enrolled themselves under the banners of the cross.

Cataloni and Castile furnished a great number of crusaders; the King of Portugal, and James, King of Aragon, took the cross. Doña Sancha, one of the daughters of the Aragonese prince, had made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and had died in the hospital of St. John, after devoting many years to the service of pilgrims and the sick. James had several times conquered the Moors, but neither his exploits against the infidels nor the remembrance of a daughter who had fallen a martyr to Christian charity could sustain his piety against the attacks of his earthly passions, and his shameful connection with Berengaria scandalized Christendom.

The Pope, to whom he communicated his design of going to the Holy Land, replied that Jesus Christ could not accept the services of a prince who crucified him every day by his sins. The King of Aragon, by a strange combination of opposite sentiments, would neither renounce Berengaria nor give up his project of going to fight against the infidels in the East. He renewed his oath in a great assembly at Toledo, at which the ambassadors of the Khan of Tartary and of the King of Armenia were present. We read, in a Spanish dissertation upon the crusades, that Alfonso the Wise, who was not able to go to the East himself, furnished the King of Aragon with a hundred men and a hundred thousand marvedis in gold; the Order of St. James, and other orders of knighthood, who had often accompanied the conqueror of the Moors in his battles, supplied him also with men and money. The city of Barcelona offered him eighty thousand Barcelonese sols, and Majorca fifty thousand silver sols, with two equipped vessels. The fleet, composed of thirty large ships, and a great number of smaller craft, in which were embarked eight hundred men-at-arms and two thousand foot soldiers, set out from Barcelona on the 4th of September, 1268. When they arrived off Majorca, the fleet was dispersed by a tempest; one part of the vessels gained the coasts of Asia, another took shelter in the ports of Sardinia, the vessel that the King of Arragon was on board of was cast upon the coast of Languedoc.

The arrival at Ptolemais of the Aragonese crusaders, commanded by a natural son of James, restored some hopes to the Franks of Palestine. An envoy from the King of Aragon, according to the oriental chronicles, repaired to the Khan of the Tartars, to announce to him that the Spanish monarch would soon arrive with his army. But whether he was detained by the charms of Berengaria, or whether the tempest that dispersed his fleet made him believe that heaven was averse to his pilgrimage, James did not arrive. His departure, in which he appeared to despise the counsels of the holy see, had been severely censured; and his return, which was attributed to his disgraceful passion, met with an equal share of blame. Murmurs likewise arose against the King of Portugal, who had levied the tenths, but did not leave his kingdom.

All those who in Europe took an interest in the crusade, had, at this time, their eyes directed toward the kingdom of Naples, where Charles of Anjou was making great preparations to accompany his brother into the East; but this kingdom, recently conquered, was doomed again to be the theatre of a war kindled by vengeance and ambition. There fell out in the states of Naples and Sicily, which had so often changed masters, that which almost always takes place after a revolution: deceived hopes were changed into hatreds; the excesses inseparable from a conquest, the presence of an army proud of its victories, with the too violent government of Charles, animated the people against their new King.

Clement IV thought it his duty to give a timely and salutary warning. “Your kingdom,” he wrote to him, “at first exhausted by the agents of your authority, is now torn by your enemies; thus the caterpillar destroys what has escaped the grasshopper. The kingdom of Sicily and Naples has not been wanting in men to desolate it; where now are they that will defend it?” This letter of the Pope’s announced storms ready to break forth. Many of those who had called Charles to the throne regretted the house of Swabia, and directed their new hopes toward Italy, strengthening Conradin, heir of Frederick and of Conrad. This young Prince quitted Germany with an army and advanced toward Italy, strengthening himself in his march with the party of the Ghibellines, and with all those whom the domination of Charles had irritated. All Italy was in flames, and the Pope, Charles’ protector, retired to Viterbo, had no defense to afford him, except only the thunders of the Church.

Charles of Anjou, however, now assembled his troops, and marched out to meet his rival. The two armies met in the plain of St. Valentine, near Aquila; the army of Conradin was cut to pieces, and the young Prince fell into the power of the conqueror. Posterity cannot pardon Charles for having abused his victory here so far as to condemn and decapitate his disarmed and vanquished enemy. After this execution, Sicily and the country of Naples were given up to all the furies of a jealous, suspicious tyranny, for violence produces violence, and great political crimes never come alone. It was thus that Charles got ready for the crusade; but, on the other hand, Providence was preparing terrible catastrophes for him. “So true it is,” says a historian, “that God as often gives kingdoms to punish those he elevates as to chastise those whom he brings low.”

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