ACRE having been relieved, Nazareth recaptured, and Kakhow won, Edward's fame spread over the East; and Albaga, King of the Tartars, sent ambassadors with letters expressing his high admiration of the English Prince, and offering to despatch Ccnebar, a great Tartar, warrior, to aid the crusaders against their Mameluke foe. Edward treated the proposal with favor, and began to dream of mighty conquests made by him at the head of an army composed of Christians and Tartars; but circumstances proved altogether unfavorable to his grand designs, or to farther operations.
In fact, selfishness and the climate had done for Bibars Bendocdar what the potent Sultan could not have done for himself. Freed from pressing danger, and discovering that Edward had no money, the Syrian Christians became lukewarm in their alliance; and, parched by the Syrian sun, the crusaders from Europe found themselves unfitted for exertion. All the English suffered from the excessive heat; many of them fell victims to a too-free indulgence in the fruit of the country; and, ere long, the Prince was stretched on a bed of sickness. While Edward lay prostrate in the palace of Acre, and lamented bitterly the murder of Ilcnry of Cornwall, and cursed the treachery that had enabled the murderers of his kinsman to escape, the knife of the assassin was stealthily approaching his own brave and generous heart.
Among the Eastern magnates who obeyed the word of Bibars Bendocdar, the Emir of Joppa was one of the most conspicuous. This Emir, who exercised great influence, expressed a high admiration of Edward's valor, and, pretending a strong desire to be converted to Christianity, opened communications with the Prince through an assassin named Anazazim, and known as "the Old Man of the Mountains." As the Emir's messages were strictly secret, the Prince's chamber was cleared whenever his agent demanded an interview; and Anazazim came and went so frequently with letters and messages, that at length everything like suspicion was lulled to sleep.
On one occasion -- it was the evening of Friday in Whitsun week -- Edward attired in a white vest, was reclining on his couch, and resting his head against a window in deep thought. The scene before him was fair to behold. The sky appeared richly colored; the setting sun painted the landscape in gorgeous hues; the breeze sighed among the palm-trees and lofty sycamores; and the waters of the Mediterranean murmured on the Syrian shore. But the Prince's heart and his fancy were in all probability far away. He was thinking, perhaps with sadness, of the oaken forests of England, through whose glades he had hunted the stag, and of the fair fields over which he had been in the habit of flying his white Norwegian hawk.
While Edward mused, and the hour of vespers approached, Anazazim appeared at the palace and demanded an audience. The Prince's attendants forthwith left the chamber; and " the Old Man of the Mountains," after making his usual salaam at the door, entered, and kneeling in profound submission, presented a letter. While Edward was occupied with the perusal, Anazazim, pretending to have another letter, put his hand in his bosom as if to produce it. Instead, however, he drew forth a dagger, and made a thrust at Edward's side. The Prince was in the utmost peril; but his keen eye was on the assassin in an instant; and, quick as thought, he raised his arm and warded off the blow. Utterly desperate, the " Old Man" made a second attempt. Springing up at a bound, Edward wrenched the dagger from his hand, and exclaiming "Base traitor," laid him lifeless on the floor.
Meanwhile the noise of a scuffle reached the ears of Edward's household; and, in alarm, the officers in attendance rushed in to ascertain the cause. Seeing Anazazim on the floor, and Edward pale with rage, the Prince's harper, guessing the whole, seized a stool, and beat out the assassin's brains. But the Prince reproved the harper with indignation. "Why," he asked indignantly, "do you strike a man who is dead?"
News of Edward's mishap quickly reached the court of the palace and flew into the city; and great was the alarm caused thereby. Everybody was seized with apprehension; and all wrung their hands. But the master of the Templars said, " The wound must be looked to, for doubtless the weapon would be poisoned;" and having procured a potion, which it was believed, would prevent poison from taking effect, he hurried to the Prince. w I forewarned you that the man meditated treachery," said the Grand Master, as he entered Edward's chamber. " However, be of good cheer. Take this potion; and all will end well."
Surgeons having been sent for, the wound was dressed; and hopes of a speedy recovery were entertained. But when a few days passed over, gloom appeared on the faces of the English crusaders; and much alarm was excited in Acre by a rumor that the wound was growing black and showing signs of mortification. On observing this, the surgeons, though little guessing the value of the life with which they were dealing, manifested dismay, and conversed in so low a tone, as not only to alarm the Princess, who was present, but even to attract the attention of the mighty patient.
"Assuredly," they whispered to one another, "the dagger has been smeared with poison."
"Why do you whisper among yourselves? " asked Edward, turning on his uneasy couch. " Tell me the truth, and fear not. Can I not be cured?"
One of the physicians stepped forward. He was an Englishman and celebrated for his skill.
"Sire Edward," he answered, "you can be cured. But, in that case, it will be necessary for you to undergo acute suffering."
"And if I suffer," asked Edward, "do you promise me restoration to health."
"I promise it," said the English physician; "and I would hazard my head on the cure."
"Then," said Edward, "I commit my body to your hands. Do with me whatever you will."
At this time, Eleanor of Castille, then about twenty-seven, stood by Edward's couch; and horrified at the pain which was to be inflicted on her husband, the Princess gave way to grief and burst into tears. But the physician, feeling that he could not operate in her presence, and moreover that it was no time for ceremony, insisted that she should leave the chamber, and requested Edmund Crouchback and John de Vesci to lead her out.
"I will not go," exclaimed Eleanor, weeping; "I will not leave my husband at such a moment."
"Madam," said de Vesci, removing the Princess, but with chivalrous respect, "be contented -- it is better that one woman should shed tears for a little while, than that all England should lament for a great season."
When the chamber was cleared, the English surgeon set to work; and, having nerve and skill, he performed the operation with complete success. 4t Now, Sire," said he,4t take comfort; for I prophesy that in a fortnight you will be able to mount your horse." The prediction of the English surgeon appeared unlikely to be fulfilled; but his skill excited general admiration.
When Edward's wound began to heal, the Christians in Acre expressed their anxiety to march against the Saracens and avenge the attempt at assassination. But Edward, turning on his couch, said, " In the name of the Lord, I prohibit all from molesting the pagans at this time. Know you not that many of my nation have gone, in small companies, on pilgrimages to the Sepulchre; and if we give the pagans even the smallest annoyance, my countrymen will all be slain?"
Meanwhile Bibars Bendocdar, hearing of Edward's wound, sent several of his chief men to express bis regret at what had occurred, and to call God to witness that he had no knowledge whatever of the treachery. On coming into Edward's presence, the Sultan's ambassadors fell on their faces. " What," exclaimed the Prince in English, " is the use of paying this reverence to me, whom of all men you most bitterly hate?"
It appears that Edward fully acquitted Bibars Bendocdar; indeed, his suspicions were turned in a different direction. He had reason to fear that the same influence which led to the assassination of Henry of Cornwall in the church of St. Lawrence, was exercised to point the knife of Anazazim at his own heart. But the instigators of the crime, whoever they might have been, were disappointed, and, within fifteen days of the operation, the English surgeon had the gratification of seeing the Prince mount his steed.
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From John G. Edgar
The Crusades and the Crusaders, 1860
