TO WHANGAREI WITH AN OLD CRUSADER

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXV, Issue 23145, 17 September 1938, Page 1 (Supplement)

TO WHANGAREI WITH AN OLD CRUSADER

By E. M. BLAIKLOCK

F IVE wclry hours they are that lie between Auckland and Whangarei, just time enough to taste the best of old De Joinville. He can be "discovered" almost as well in Everyman's translation as in his own simple Medieval French, and in either tongue ho can charm away the miles of what must be one of the world's worst journeys. Why should we gaze out of the window at slipping hillsides, slaughtered bush and man-made deserts, when we can go crusading with one who sailed with good King Louis'? The great expedition of 1248 was the grand adventure of De Joinville's life, but it was not until 11509, "in tho month of October," that ho put his notes together, and as a garrulous old man re-lived on paper the crowded days of sixty years before. How many were still alivo of those who had known with Saint Louis the weight of armour under tho Egyptian sun, of thoso whose frames had wasted with the pestilenco when tho Delta stream was choked with dead, of thoso who had played the great game of chivalry with swinging swords against Greek lire at Mansourali? King of Assassins Louis was gone and his altar stood to keep his memory green in tho chapel of Joinville Castle. Was Brother Raymond in retirement in some quiet mon-

Da Joinville, Gallant Gentleman of France

astery, shuddering anon at the distant memor3 r of tho day when he ran the king's ship aground, and "took to tearing his beard and to crying, 'Ay me, Ay me.' And what,of Brother Yves? His was a great adventure. He went as Louis' envoy to the Old Man of the Mountains. This old villain is responsible for tho word "assassin." Tho Crusaders brought it home in their vocabulary. Hashish makes the root of the word, for this was the drug which sent tho Old Man's murderers mad, when ho sent them out with knives to kill. He sent an envoy with three knives as a broad hint to the French King, and Brother Yves went back with gentle answer and " great foison of jewels, cups of gold and cloths of scarlet." Lost Gospel He had the hardihood to preach to the old sheik, for ho found him with a book by the head of his bed, in which were written "many words which our Lord when on earth had said to St. Peter." What wbuld modern scholarship give to possess this lost gospel ? At any rate, Brother Yves commended tho old man's choice in reading, whereupon the latter explained that Peter's soul had in time past been that of Abraham, Noah and Abel. FTenco his affection for Peter. Brother Yves proceeded to.point out his error, but tho Old Man "would not listen." • it was Brother Yves who met an oltl woman in Antioch carrying lighted

wood and a jug of water, "to set fire to? Paradise and put out the fires of Hell," she explained. "Then," she continued, "will men serve God for lore, not from fear of punishment or hope of reward." Or did Brother Yves make the story up to illustrate a sermon ? At any rate we hope he found honorable retirement in a quiet monastery by the Loire, cheer all the week and fish on Fridays. Brother John, Joinville's own chaplain, died of the plague. He was a doughty friar, too. He had crossed No Man's Land with a single spear, and put eight Saracens to flight. He lost his spear. It was dragged away, full gallop, its head jammed 'twixt infidel ribs. Our chronicler is ever ready with details like this. He had a photographic memory. Doughty Clerk Talking still of priests, there was one of them, unfrocked, among Louis' men. A waggon had once been brought into the King's court of justice containing what the police call exhibits, to wit, in this case, three dead men-at-arms. They had gone into the back streets, said the provost, to rob people. "And," said he, "they found this cierk and robbed him of his clothes." Tho clerk, "in his shirt only," ran for a crossbow, and sent an urchin for a sword. The urchin's legs twinkled as lie ran. With the cross-bow Turpin's descendant shot one robber down, with the sword ho chased tho others. One got stuck in a hedge and his protruding leg was promptly hacked off. The other was overtaken (one is fleet in a shirt) at a house-door, and his skull "cloven to the teeth." "Sir clerk," said Louis, "you have forfeited your priesthood by your prowess, but for your prowess I do take you into my service." A Solomon come to judgment! There are pages here which catch the spirit of ancient chivalry. There are little cameos of prowess which speak volumes. One against ten, five against n hundred, what matters? "And Count l'cter of Brittany came riding up as wo held the bridge, and he had been wounded with a sword across the face, so that the blood ran into his mouth. And as ho spat the blood out of his mouth he said full often: 'Ha, by God's head, have you ever seen such riff-raff?' " All this, mind you, in a hundred-weight of armour and an Egyptian summer. Greek Fire Do Joinville and his friends were holding a little bridge to protect the Frankish flank. The enemy had Greek fire, one pot of which William of Boon caught deftly on his shield. "By God's bonnet," said the Count of Soissons with a laugh, "we shall talk of this day yet, you and I." They came off well. "1 was only wounded," says Do Joinville, "by their darts five times, and my horse fifteen." They were hardy lads. Ixnd Everard of Si very had been "struck by a sword in the middle of the face in such sort that his nose fell over liis lip." Yet he it was who rode for help when Do Joinville's band was cut off at Mansourah, having first made sure that neither he nor his heirs would incur reproach therein. The East rcinembeted such Crusaders. "Whist," said the Saracen mothers to their crying babes, "King Richard will get you." What makes history live? Why does it help to know that it took all Saturday and Sunday to count out Louis' ransom? Why are wo glad to have the story of the three dress-lengths Louis sent the queen? She thought they were tlie relics of somo saint and knelt before them, and finding tho truth, sent back the message: "Tell my lord I wish him an evil day, since he has caused me to kneel to. his cloth." At any rate, we are passing Portland and close the book. Those Crusades! "And what good came of it at last?" we say, quoting Peterkin, as we put the book away. De Joinville's chronicles at least. And we didn't notice whether or not the tide was out at Helensvillel