Well known is the hapless outcome of St. Louis' Crusades: the first one leading to defeat and captivity in Egypt, the second ending in the king's death by disease at Tunis. Yet in what he sought to do in his Lord's cause, St. Louis was a true knight and soldier of the Cross. The spirit was willing; but the flesh accomplished little. Let us take from Joinville's story of that first crusade a wonderfully illustrative chapter, giving the confused scenes occurring after the capture of Damietta, when the French king and his feudal host had advanced southerly through the Delta, along the eastern branch of the Nile. Joinville was making a reconnaissance with his own knights, when they came suddenly upon a large body of Saracens. The Christians were hard pressed; here and there a knight falls in the melée, among them
"Monseigneur Hugues de Trichatel, the lord of Conflans, who carried my banner. I and my knights spurred to deliver Monseigneur Raoul de Wanou, who was thrown to the ground. As I was making my way back, the Turks struck at me with their lances; my horse fell on his knees under the blows, and I went over his head. I recovered myself as I might, shield on neck and sword in hand; and Monseigneur Erard de Siverey (whom God absolve!), who was of my people, came to my aid, and said that we had better retreat to a ruined house, and there wait for the king who was approaching."
One notes the high-born courtesy with which the Sire de Joinville speaks of the gentlemen who had the honour of serving him. The fight goes on.
"Monseigneur Erard de Siverey was struck by a sword-blow in his face, so that his nose hung down over his lips. And then I was minded of Monseigneur Saint Jacques, whom I thus invoked: 'Beau Sire Saint Jacques help and succour me in this need.'
"When I had made my prayer, Monseigneur Erard de Siverey said to me: 'Sire, if you think that neither I nor my heirs would suffer reproof, I would go for aid to the Count of Anjou, whom I see over there in the fields.' And I said to him: 'Messire Erard, I think you would do yourself great honour, if you now went for aid to save our lives; for your own is in jeopardy.' And indeed I spoke truly, for he died of that wound. He asked the advice of all our knights who were there, and all approved as I had approved. And when he heard that, he requested me to let him have his
