Tyre successfully resisted Saladin’s attacks. Ascalon surrendered on favourable conditions, and, to crown all, Jerusalem itself fell a prey to his irresistible arms. The great clemency of Saladin is chronicled on this occasion by Christian historians, but the same was an offence to many of the Moslems and is but little referred to by their historians.

Tyre was now again besieged and was on the point of capture when the besieged were relieved by the arrival of Conrad, son of the Marquis of Monferrat. The defence was now fought with such vigour that Saladin abandoned it and made an attack upon Tripoli, but with no better success, although he succeeded in forcing Bohemond, Prince of Antioch, and ruler of Tripoli, to submit on terms favourable to himself. After this, Saladin took part in the defence of the ever-memorable siege of Acre, which called forth deeds of gallantry and heroism on both sides, and which lasted for two years, during which it roused the interest of the whole of the Christian world. The invading army were in time reinforced by the redoubtable Richard Coeur de Lion, King of England, and Philip II. of France, and, breaking down all opposition, they captured the city, and floated upon its walls the banners of the cross in the year 1191 A.D. Unfortunately for the good name of the Christians, an act of ferocious barbarity marred the lustre of their triumph, for 2,700 Moslems were cut down in cold blood in consequence of the failure of Saladin to fulfil the terms of the capitulation; and the palliative plea that the massacre was perpetrated in the heat of the assault can scarcely be urged in extenuation of this enormity. While many historians have laid the blame on King Richard, the historian Michaud believes it rather to have been decided on in a council of the chiefs of the Crusade.

After a period of rest and debauchery, the army of the Crusaders, led on by King Richard, began to march towards Jerusalem. Saladin harassed his advance and rendered the strongholds on the way defenceless and ravaged the whole country. Richard was nevertheless ever victorious. His great personal bravery struck terror into the Moslems, and he won an important victory over them at Arsûr. Dissensions now broke out among chiefs of the Crusaders, and Richard himself proved to be a very uncertain leader in regard to the strategy of the campaign. So serious were these drawbacks that the ultimate aim of the enterprise was thereby frustrated, and the Crusaders never attained to their great object, which was the re-conquest of Jerusalem. At the time when the Christian armies were in possession of all the cities along the coast, from Jaffa to Tyre, and the hosts of Saladin were seriously disorganised, a treaty was concluded and King Richard sailed back on the return journey to England. The glory acquired by Saladin, and the famous campaigns of Richard Cour de Lion, have rendered the Third Crusade the most memorable in history, and the exploits of the heroes on both sides shed a lustre on the arms of both Moslems and Christians.

Saladin died about a year after the conclusion of this peace, at Damascus, A.D. 1193, at the age of fifty-seven. With less rashness and bravery than Richard, Saladin possessed a firmer character and one far better calculated to carry on a religious war. He paid more attention to the results of his enterprises; more master of himself, he was more fit to command others. When mounting the throne of the Atabegs, Saladin obeyed rather his destiny than his inclinations; but, when once firmly seated, he was governed by only two passions,—that of reigning and that of securing the triumph of the Koran. On all other subjects he was moderate, and when a kingdom or the glory of the Prophet was not in question, the son of Ayyub was admired as the most just and mild of Muhammedans. The stern devotion and ardent fanaticism that made him take up arms against the Christians only rendered him cruel and barbarous in one single instance. He displayed the virtues of peace amidst the horrors of war. “From the bosom of the camps,” says an Oriental poet, “he covered the nations with the wings of his justice, and poured upon his cities the plenteous showers of his liberality.” During his reign many remarkable public works were executed. The Muhammedans, always governed by fear, were astonished that a sovereign could inspire them with so much love, and followed him with joy to battle. His generosity, his clemency, and particularly his respect for an oath, were often the subjects of admiration to the Christians, whom he rendered so miserable by his victories, and of whose power in Asia he had completed the overthrow. Previous to his death, Saladm had divided the kingdom between his three sons; El-Afdhal received Damascus, Southern Syria, and Palestine, with the title of sultan; El-Aziz obtained the kingdom of Egypt, and Ez Zahir the princedom of Aleppo.

El-Aziz undertook a campaign against Syria, but was defeated and obliged to retreat to Cairo on account of a mutiny among his troops. El-Afdhal pursued him, and had already pressed forward as far as Bilbeis, when El-Adil, who had hitherto espoused his cause, fearing that he might become too powerful, forced him to conclude a peace. The only advantage he obtained was that he regained possession of Jerusalem and the southern part of Syria. Soon after, El-Adil prevailed upon his nephew Aziz, with whom he stood on friendly terms, to renew the war and to take Damascus; El-Afdhal was betrayed, and only Sarchod was left to him, whereas El-Adil occupied Damascus and forced Aziz to return to Egypt again (June, 1196). After Aziz’s death, in November, 1198, El-Afdhal was summoned by some of the emirs to act as regent in Egypt. Others called upon El-Adil to adopt the same course. El-Afdhal, however, became master of Egypt, and besieged Damascus, reinforced by his brother Zahir, who feared his uncle’s ambition no less than himself. The agreement between the brothers, however, did not last long; their armies separated, and El-Afdhal was obliged to raise the siege and retreat to Egypt. He was pursued by his uncle, and forced, after several skirmishes, to surrender the capital and content himself once more with Sarchod and one or two towns on the Euphrates (February, 1200). El-Adil ruled for a short time in the name of El-Aziz’s son; he soon came forward as sultan, forced Zahir to recognise him as his suzerain, and appointed his son El-Muzzain as governor of Damascus; the towns which belonged to him in Mesopotamia were distributed among his other sons, and he thus became, to a certain extent, the overlord of all the lands conquered by Saladin. His son, El-Ashraf, later became lord of Chelat in Armenia, and his descendant, Masud, Kamil’s son, obtained possession of happy Arabia; so that the name Malik Adil was pronounced in all the Moslem chancels from the borders of Georgia to the Gulf of Aden.

El-Adil was so much engaged with wars against the Moslem princes,—the princes of Nissibis and Mardin,—and also with repulsing El-Afdhal, who wished to recover his lost kingdom, that he was unable to proceed with any force against the Crusaders; he took unwilling measures against them when they actually broke the peace, and was always ready to conclude a new treaty. He took Jaffa by storm when the pilgrims, armed by Henry VI., came to Palestine and interfered with the Moslem devotions, and when the chancellor Conrad thereupon seized Sidon and Beirut, El-Adil contented himself with laying waste the former town and hindering the capture of the fortress Joron; Beirut he allowed to fall into the enemy’s hands. Still later he permitted several attacks of the Christians—such as the devastation of the town Fuah, situated on the Rosetta arm of the Nile—to pass unnoticed, and even bought peace at the expense of the districts of Ramleh and Lydda, which had formerly belonged to him. It was not until the year 1206 that he acted upon the offensive against the regent, John of Ibelin, and even then he contented himself with slight advantages and concluded a new truce for thirty years.

Shortly before his death, El-Adil, like his brother Saladin, narrowly escaped losing all his glory and the fruits of so many victories. Pope Honorius III. had successfully aroused the zeal of the Western nations for a new Crusade. Numerous well-armed and warlike-minded pilgrims—among whom were King Andreas of Hungary and Duke Leopold of Austria—landed at Acre in 1217, and King John of Jerusalem led them against the Moslems. El-Adil hastened from Egypt to the scene of action, but was forced to retreat to Damascus and to give up the whole of the southern district, with the exception of the well-fortified holy town, to be plundered by the Christians. In the following spring, whilst El-Adil was in Syria, a Christian fleet sailed to Damietta, and besieged the town. The attacking forces were composed of Germans and Hungarians, who had embarked at Spalato on the Adriatic for St. Jean d’Acre, where they spent a year in unfortunate expeditions and quarrels with the Christians of Syria. They were joined by a fleet of three hundred boats furnished by North Germans and Frisians, who, leaving the banks of the Rhine, had journeyed there by way of the Straits of Gibraltar, prolonging the journey by a year’s fighting in Portugal.

The Christians then in Palestine had persuaded the Crusaders to begin with an attack on Egypt, and they had therefore chosen to land at Damietta. This was a large commercial town to the east of one of the arms of the Nile, which was defended by three walls and a large tower built on an island in the middle of the Nile, from which started the chains that barred the river.

The Frisian sailors constructed a castle of wood, which was placed between the masts of two ships, and from which the Crusaders were able to leap to the tower, and thus they were able to blockade and starve the town. The siege was long, and an epidemic breaking out among the besiegers carried off a sixth of their number. The sultan tried to succour the besieged by floating down the stream corpses of camels, which were stuffed with provisions, but the Christians captured them. He then offered to give the Crusaders, on condition they would depart, the True Cross and all he possessed of the kingdom of Jerusalem; but Pelagius, the papal legate,—a Spanish monk who had himself named commander-in-chief,—rejected the offer.

El-Adil was so stunned by the news of the success of the Christians that he died a few days after (August, 1218). El-Kamil, however, was not discouraged; he not only defended Damietta, but also harassed the enemy in their own camp by means of hordes of Bedouins. Not until he was forced, by a conspiracy of his troops in favour of his brother El-Faiz, to fly to Cairo, did the Christians succeed in getting across the Nile and completely surrounding Damietta. Order was soon restored in Egypt, owing to the arrival of Prince Muzzain, who had taken over the government of Damascus on the death of his father. The rebels were chastised, and both brothers proceeded towards Damietta: they could not succeed, however, in raising the siege, and the garrison diminished daily through hunger, sickness, and constant attacks, and the fortress soon fell into the hands of the Crusaders, almost without a blow (November 5, 1219). The Crusaders pillaged the town, taking from it four hundred thousand gold pieces. The Italians also settled there, and made it the seat of their commerce with Egypt. This conquest caused excitement in Europe, and the Pope called Pelagius “the second Joshua.”

If the Franks had been more at peace among themselves, they might easily have pushed forward to Cairo after the fall of Damietta. But the greatest discontent prevailed between the papal legate, Pelagius, and King John of Brienne, so that the latter soon after left Egypt, while Pelagius was forced to wait for reinforcements before he could get away from Damietta.

El-Kamil, meanwhile, reinforced his army with the help of the friendly Syrian princes, and, by destroying the channels and dams of the Nile canals, so endangered the Christian camp that they were soon forced to sue for peace, and offered to quit Damietta on the condition of an unmolested retreat. El-Kamil, equally anxious for peace, accepted these conditions (August, 1221). Scarcely had the Æyubites thus warded off: the threatening danger when they proceeded to fall out among themselves.

After the death of El-Kamil, who in the end was generally regarded as overlord, a new war broke out, in March, 1238, between his son El-Adil II., who was reigning in Egypt, and his brother Ayyub, who occupied Damascus. Ayyub conquered Egypt, but, in his absence, his uncle Ismail, Prince of Balbek, seized upon Damascus and made a league with the Franks in Palestine and several of the Syrian princes. Through this unnatural league, Ismail, however, estranged not only the Moslem inhabitants of Syria, but also his own army. Part of the army deserted in consequence to Ayyub, who was thus enabled easily to subdue the allied army (1240). Another coalition was formed against him a few years later, and this time Da’ud of Kerak was one of the allies. Ayyub sent a strong army of Egyptians, negroes, and Mamluks under the future sultan, Beybars, to Syria. The Syrian troops fought unwillingly against their fellow-believers in the opposite ranks, and the wild Chariz-mites, who had also joined the ranks, inspired them with terror, so that they deserted the field of battle in the neighbourhood of Gaza (October, 1244). The Christians, left to themselves, were not in a position to resist the enemy’s attacks; and the Egyptians made themselves masters of Jerusalem and Hebron, and in the following year obtained Damascus, Balbek, Ascalon, and Tiberias. In 1248 Ayyub came again into Syria, in order to chastise El-Malik en-Nasir, Prince of Aleppo, who had seized upon Hemessa when he heard of the coming Crusaders under Saint Louis. To this end he made peace with the natives of Aleppo, and returned to Jerusalem in order to make the necessary preparations for defence. The pilgrims, however, succeeded in landing, for Emir Fakhr ed-Din, the Egyptian commander, had taken to flight after a short skirmish, and the fortress was allowed to fall into the hands of the enemy (June, 1249). Ayyub now established a firm footing in the town of Cairo—which his father had founded—in a district intersected by canals, and harassed the Christian camp with his light cavalry. Louis was expecting reinforcements, but they did not arrive until the inundations of the Nile made any advance into the interior almost impossible. At last, on the 21st of December, the Christian army arrived at the canal of Ashmum Tanah, which alone separated them from the town of Mansuria. The Egyptians were now commanded by Emir Fakhr ed-Din. Ayyub had died a month before, but his wife, Shejret ed-Durr, kept his death a secret until his son Turan Shah should arrive from Mesopotamia. Fakhr ed-Din did everything in his power to retrieve his former error. He attacked the Christians when they were engaged in building a dam across the canal, hindering their work on the southern bank with his throwing-machines, destroying their towers with Greek fire; and when, in spite of all discouragements, their toilsome work was nearly finished, he rendered it useless by digging out a new basin, into which he conducted the water of the Ashmum canal.

On the 8th of February, 1250, the French crossed the canal, but, instead of collecting there, as the king had commanded, so as to attack the enemy en masse, several troops pressed forward against the Egyptians, and many, including the Count of Artois, the king’s brother, were killed by the valiant enemy under Beybars. The battle remained long undecided, for the Egyptians had barricaded Cairo so well that it could only be stormed at the cost of many lives, and after the capture the army needed rest. The Egyptians took advantage of this delay to bring a fleet up in the rear of the Egyptian ships, which, in combination with the fleet stationed near Mansuria, attacked and completely destroyed them. As soon as they were masters of the Nile, the Egyptians landed troops below the Christian camp, which was thus completely cut off from Damietta, and soon suffered the greatest hardships from lack of provisions. Under these circumstances, Louis opened negotiations with Turan Shah, and when these proved fruitless, nothing remained for him but to return to Damietta. Although they began their retreat by night, they did not thus escape the vigilance of the Egyptians. The fugitives were overtaken on the following morning, and so shut in by the enemy that resistance was impossible. A large portion of the army was cut to pieces, in spite of their surrender; the rest, together with the king and his brother, were taken prisoners and brought in triumph to Cairo. Turan Shah treated the king with consideration and hastened to conclude peace with the Bahritic Mamluks,—so called because they had been brought up on the Nile (Bahr), on the island Rhodha,—as soon as the ransom money of his prisoners was assured. The Bahrites grumbled at this peace because it left the Christians in Palestine in possession of their towns, and they forthwith murdered Turan Shah, with the help of Shejret ed-Durr, whom he had maltreated (May 2, 1250).

After Turan Shah’s death, his mother was proclaimed sultana, and the Mamluk Aibek became general of the army. Later, when the caliph of Baghdad revolted against the rule of a woman, Aibek assumed the title of sultan and married Shejret ed-Durr. He ruled again after some time in the name of a young descendant of Kamil, so as to be able to fight against the Ayyubids in Syria, who, with En-Nasir at their head, had taken possession of Damascus, with an appearance of right. A battle took place between Aibek and the Syrians (February, 1251), which was decided in favour of Aibek in consequence of the treachery of the Turks under Nasir. Aibek again assumed the title of sultan after the victory, but was soon after to be murdered by the Mamluks, who were unwilling to be subject to any control. He anticipated their plot, however, and slew their leader, the Emir Aktai, putting his followers to flight. He then demanded the diploma of investiture and the insignia of his office from the caliph, and also pressed the Prince of Mosul to grant him his daughter in marriage. His own wife, unable to endure such perfidy, had him murdered in his bath (April 10, 1257).

When Beybars first ascended the throne, he assumed the name of Sultan Kahir (the over-ruler), but afterwards, when he was informed that this name had always brought misfortune to its bearer, he changed it to that of Sultan Zahir (the Glorious).

Now that he was absolute master of Syria and Egypt, Beybars tried to obliterate the remembrance of the misdeeds he had formerly been guilty of by means of undertakings for the general good and for the furtherance of religion. He had the mosques repaired, founded pious institutions, designed new aqueducts, fortified Alexandria, had all the fortresses repaired and provisioned which the Mongols had razed to the ground, had a large number of great and small war-ships built, and established a regular post between Cairo and Damascus. In order to obtain a semblance of legitimacy, since he was but a usurper, Beybars recognised a nominal descendant of the house of Abbas as caliph, who, in the proper course of things, ought to invest him with the dominions of Syria and Egypt. Beybars bade his governors receive this descendant of the house of the Prophet with all suitable marks of honour, and invited him to come to Egypt. When he approached the capital, the sultan himself went out to meet him, followed by the vizier, the chief cadi, and the chief emirs and notabilities of the town. Even the Jews and Christians had to take part in the procession, carrying respectively the Tora and the Gospel. The caliph made his entrance into Cairo with the greatest pomp, rode through the town amidst the shouts of the multitude, and proceeded to the citadel, where Beybars had appointed him a magnificent dwelling. Some days afterwards the caliph had a reception of the chief cadi, the most celebrated theologians and lawyers of Egypt, and many notables of the capital. The Arabs who formed his escort and an eunuch from Baghdad testified to the identity of the caliph’s person, the chief cadi recognised their assertion as valid, and was the first to do homage to him as caliph. Thereupon the sultan arose, took the oath of allegiance to him and swore to uphold both the written laws of the Koran and those of tradition; to advance the good and hinder the evil, to fight zealously for the protection of the faith only, to impose lawful taxes, and to apply the taxes only to lawful purposes. After the sultan had finished, homage was done by the sheiks, the emirs, and the other chief officers of the kingdom. The caliph invested the sultan with power over all the kingdoms subject to Islam, as well as over all future conquests, whereupon the people of all classes were admitted to do homage likewise. Then command was sent out to all the distant princes and governors to do homage to the caliph, who has assumed the name of El-Mustanssir, and to place his name beside that of the sultan in their prayers and also on their coins.

Beybars’ treatment of his viziers, governors, and other important emirs, one or other of whom he either imprisoned or executed on every possible occasion, was merciless, but he proceeded even more shamelessly against Malik Mughith, Prince of Kerak and Shaubek, whom he feared so much as one of the bravest descendants of the house of Ayyub that he stamped himself publicly as a perjured assassin, in order to get him out of the way. Beybars had at first, without any declaration of war, in fact, without any notification of it in Egypt, suddenly sent a detachment of troops under the leadership of Emir Bedr ed-Din Aidimri, which took the fortress Shaubek by surprise, and placed the Emir Saif ed-Din Bilban el-Mukhtasi in it as governor. In the next year, in order to win over Mughith, he liberated his son Aziz, whom Kotuz had captured at Damascus and imprisoned at Cairo; he also assured Mughith of his friendly intentions towards him and repeatedly urged him to arrange a meeting. El-Malik el-Mughith did not trust Beybars, and invented all kinds of reasons not to accept his invitations. Beybars resolved at last to calm the fears of his intended victim by means of a written oath. The fears of Mughith, however, were not allayed, and he hesitated to fall in with the wish of the sultan and to appear at his court. The following year, when the sultan came to Syria and again urged a meeting, he was at a loss for an excuse, and was forced either to acknowledge his mistrust or risk everything. He sent his mother first to Gaza, where she was received with the greatest friendliness by the sultan, and sent back laden with costly presents; on her return to Kerak, corrupted by the hospitality and generosity of the sultan, she persuaded her son to wait on him, as did also his ambassador Alamjad with equal zeal. Finally he set out from Kerak—when he had made his troops do homage to his son El-Malik el-Aziz—on a visit to the sultan, who wras then in Tur. The sultan rode out to meet him as far as Beisan. Malik Mughith wished to dismount when he perceived the sultan, but he would not permit this, and rode beside Mughith till he reached his own tent. Here he was separated from his followers, thrown into chains, and brought into the citadel of Cairo (a.h. 660). In order to palliate this crime, the sultan made public the correspondence of the Prince of Kerak with the Mongols, which it was thought would stamp the former as a traitor to Islam. The judges whom he brought with him, and amongst whom we find the celebrated historian Ibn Khallikan, who was then chief judge of Damascus, declared him guilty, but we only have historical proof of the sending of his son into Hulagu’s camp to beg that his province might be spared, at a time when all the princes of Syria, seized with panic, threw themselves at the feet of the Mongolian general. Be that as it may, he none the less committed a piece of treachery, since he had sworn not to call him to account for his former crimes. Beybars hoped, now that he had disposed of Malik Mughith, that the fortress Kerak would immediately surrender to his emissary, Emir Bedr ed-Din Beisari, but the governor of the fortress feared to trust the promises of a perjurer and offered resistance. Beybars therefore set out for Syria with all the necessary siege apparatus, constructed by the best engineers of Egypt and Syria. The garrison saw the impossibility of a long resistance and capitulated.

The son of Malik Mughith, El-Malik el-Aziz, a boy of twelve, was honoured as prince and taken to Egypt, as also Mughith’s family. His emirs and officials were treated with consideration, but the prince was later thrown into prison. Nothing certain is known with regard to the death of Mughith. According to some reports, because he offended the wife of Beybars, when as a wandering Mamluk he once was staying with him, he was delivered over to the sultan’s wives and was put to death by them; another account says that he died of hunger in prison.

After the conquest of Shekif, the sultan made an attack on the province of Tripoli because Prince Bok-mond, Governor of Antioch and Tripoli, was his bitterest enemy and the truest ally of the Mongolians, and had, moreover, at the time of Hulagu’s attack on Syria, made himself master of several places which till then had belonged to the Mussulmans. The whole land was wasted, all the houses destroyed, all Christians who fell into the hands of the troops were murdered, and several strongholds in the mountains conquered. Laden with rich booty, the Moslem army set out for Hemessa. From here Beybars proceeded towards Hamah and divided the army into three divisions; one division, under the Emir Bedr ed-Din Khaznadar (treasurer), was to take the direction of Suwaidiya, the port of Antioch; the second, under Emir Izz ed-Din Ighan, struck the route towards Der-besak; the third, which he led himself, proceeded in a straight line over Apamaa and Schoghr towards Antioch, which was the meeting-place for the two other emirs, and would so be shut in from the north, the west, and the south. On the 16th May the sultan found himself in front of the town, which contained a population of over one hundred thousand. Fighting soon ensued between the outposts of the sultan and the constable who advanced against him at the head of the militia. The latter was defeated, and the constable himself taken prisoner. On the 3d of Ramadhan the whole army had united and preparations were made for the siege. Meanwhile the sultan had already attempted to persuade the imprisoned constable to return to the town and enduce them to surrender, and to leave his own son behind as a hostage. But when several days had passed in fruitless discussions, at last the sultan gave the word for the attack. In spite of the resistance of the Christians, the walls were scaled on the same day, and the garrison retired thereupon into the citadel; the inhabitants were massacred or taken prisoner and all the houses plundered. No one could escape, for Beybars had blocked all the entrances. On the next day the garrison, women and children included, which numbered eight thousand, surrendered on account of lack of water and meal. The chiefs apparently made their escape during the confusion and fled into the mountains. The garrison only saved their lives by surrendering. Beybars had them chained and distributed as slaves amongst his troops; he then had the other prisoners and the rest of the booty brought together, and proceeded with the lawful distribution. When everything had been settled, the citadel was set on fire, but the conflagration was so great that the whole town was consumed.

Beybars died soon after his return from Asia Minor (July 1, 1277). According to some reports his death was occasioned by a violent fever; other accounts say that he died in consequence of a poison which he had prepared for an Ayyubid and which he accidentally took himself. He had designated the eldest of his sons as his successor, under the name of El-Malik es-Said, and in order to give him a strong support he had married him to the daughter of the Emir Kilawun, one of his best and most influential generals. In spite of all this, however, es-Said was not able to maintain himself on the throne for any length of time.

Kilawun conspired against his master, and was soon able to ascend the throne under the title of El-Malik el-Mansur. His fame as a warrior was already established, and he added to his successes during his ten years’ reign. His first task was to quell disturbances in Syria, and he despatched an army thither and captured Damascus. In the year 680 of the Hegira he took the field in person against a large force of Tatars, defeated them, and raised the siege of Rahabah. Eight years later he laid siege to Tripoli, then rich and flourishing after two centuries of Christian occupation, and the town was taken and its inhabitants killed. Other expeditions were undertaken against Nubia, but the Nubians, after they had been twice defeated, appear to have re-established themselves.

The fortress of Acre was at this time the only important stronghold still retained by the Christians, and for its conquest Kilawun was making preparations when he died, on the 10th of November, 1290. Kilawun, says the modern historian Weil, has been unduly praised by historians, most of whom lived in the reign of his son. He was certainly not so bloodthirsty as Beybars, and he also oppressed his subjects less. He, too, cared more for the increase and establishment of his kingdom than for justice and good faith. He held no agreement sacred, if he could get any advantage by breaking it, as was shown by his behaviour towards the Crusaders and the descendants of Beybars. The most beautiful monument which he left behind him was a huge building outside Cairo, which included a hospital, a school, and his own tomb. The hospital was so large that every disease had a special room allotted to it; there were also apartments for women, and large storerooms for provisions and medical requirements, and a large auditorium in which the head doctor delivered his lectures on medicine. The expenses were so great—for even people of wealth were taken without compensation—that special administrators were appointed to oversee and keep an account of the necessary outlay. Besides these officers, several stewards and overseers were appointed to control the revenues devoted to the hospital by different institutions. Under the dome of the tomb the Koran and traditional charters were taught, and both teachers and scholars received their payment from the state. A large adjacent hall contained a library of many works on the Koran, tradition, language, medicine, practical theology, jurisprudence, and literature, and was kept in good condition by a special librarian and six officials. The school building contained four audience-halls for the teachers of the Islamite schools, and in addition to these a school for children, into which sixty poor orphans were received without any charge and provided with board, lodging, and clothes.

Khalil, the son of Kilawun, who succeeded him, with the title of El-Malik el-Ashraf, was able to begin operations in the spring of 1291 against Acre, and on the 18th of May, after an obstinate resistance, the town was taken by storm. Those who could not escape by water were either cut down or taken prisoner; the town was plundered, then burnt, and the fortifications razed to the ground.

After the fall of Acre, towns such as Tyre, Sidon, Beirut, and others, which were still in the hands of the Christians, offered no resistance, and were either deserted by their inhabitants or given up to the enemy. El-Ashraf, now that he had cleared Syria of the Crusaders, turned his arms against the Mongols and their vassals. He began with the storming of Kalat er-rum, a fortress on the Upper Euphrates in the neighbourhood of Bireh, the possession of which was important both for the defence of Northern Syria and for attacks on Armenia and Asia Minor. In spite of many pompous declarations that this was only the beginning of greater conquests in Asia Minor and Irak, he retired as soon as the Ilkhan Kaikhatu sent a strong detachment of troops against him. Later on he threatened the Prince of Armenia-Minor with war, and obliged him to hand over certain border towns. He also exchanged some threatening letters with Kaikhatu. But neither reigned long enough to make these threats good, for Kaikhatu was soon after dethroned by Baidu, and Baidu in his turn by Gazan (1295), after many civil wars which had continually hindered him from carrying on a foreign war. El-Ashraf was murdered in 1294, whilst hunting, by the regent Baidara, whom he had threatend to turn out of his office. Kara Sonkor, Lajin, El-Mansuri, and some of the other emirs had conspired with Baidara in the hope that, when once the deed was accomplished, all the chiefs in the kingdom would applaud their action, since El-Ashraf had slain and imprisoned many influential emirs, and was generally denounced as an irreligious man, who transgressed not only against the laws of Islam, but also against those of nature. Baidara, however, immediately proceeded to mount the throne, and a strong party, with the Emir Ketboga at its head, was formed against him. Ketboga called upon El-Ashraf’s Mamluks to take vengeance, pursued the rebels, and killed Baidara. He then returned to Cairo, and, after long negotiations with the governor of the capital, Muhammed, a younger brother of El-Ashraf, was proclaimed sultan, with the title of El-Malik en-Nasir.

Muhammed en-Nasir occupies such an important place in the history of these times that the other Moslem princes may easily be grouped around him. He was only nine years old when he was summoned to be ruler of the kingdom of the Mamluks. Naturally he was the sultan only in name, and the real power lay in the hands of Ketboga and Vizier Shujai. These two lived in perfect harmony so long as they were merely occupied with the pursuit of their rivals,—not only the friends and followers of El-Ashraf’s murderer, but also the innocent ex-vizier of El-Ashraf, because he had treated them with contempt and was in possession of riches for which they were greedy. He shared the fate of the king’s assassins, for, in spite of the intercession of the ladies of the royal harem, he ended his life on the gallows. But as soon as the two rulers had got rid of their enemies and appeased their own avarice, their peaceful union was at an end, for each wished to have complete control over the sultan. Shujai had the Mamluks of the late sultan on his side; while Ketboga, who was a Mongol by birth, had with him all the Mongols and Kurds who had settled in the kingdom during Beybars’ reign. A Mongol warned Ketboga against Shujai, who had made all necessary preparations to throw his rival into prison, and he immediately was attacked by Ketboga and defeated after several attempts.

Ketboga’s ambition was not yet fulfilled, although he was now supreme ruler. He first demanded homage as regent; as he met with no opposition, he conceived the idea of setting the sultan, Nasir, aside; and he hoped to carry out his plan with the assistance of Lajin and Kara Sonkor, El-Ashraf’s murderers, and their numerous following. He had the pardon of these two emirs proclaimed, whereupon they left their hiding-places and joined Ketboga, for it was to their interest also that the sultan should be put out of the way. This coup d’état was a complete success (December, 1294), but in spite of these plans, Ketboga’s reign was both unfortunate and brief. The old emirs were vexed with him because he raised his own Mamluks to the highest posts of honour, and the clergy were displeased because he received favourably a number of Mongols, although they were heathens. The people blamed him for the severe famine which visited Egypt and Syria and which was followed by a terrible pestilence. Several emirs, with Lajin again at their head, conspired against him, and forced their way into his tent while he was on the way to Syria; overpowering the guard, they attempted to get possession of his person. He managed to escape, however, and so saved his life and liberty, but Lajin obtained possession of the throne, with the agreement of the other emirs. In spite of his advantages, both as man and as pious Moslem, and in spite of his brilliant victories over the princes of Armenia, Lajin was murdered, together with his successor, and Nasir, who was then living in Kerak, was recalled as sultan (January, 1299).

Nasir was still too young to reign alone; he had to let himself be ruled by the emirs who had already assumed a kind of regency before his return. At the head of these emirs stood Sellar and Beybars Jashingir. Distrust and uneasiness existed between these two, one of whom was regent and the other prefect of the palace, for each wanted to assume the chief power; but soon their private intrigues were put into the background by a common danger. The Ilkhan Gazan was actively preparing for war against the Mamluk kingdom because the Governor of Aleppo had fallen upon Mardin, a town belonging to the Mongols, and brutally maltreated the inhabitants; also because the refugees from Egypt and Syria assured him that the moment was favourable for extending his dominion over these lands.

The internal history of Egypt at this period offers nothing but tedious strifes between different emirs, and specially between the two most powerful, Beybars and Sellar, who would have often brought it to open warfare had not their friends and followers intervened. They agreed, however, on one point, namely, to keep the sultan as long as possible from taking over the reins of government, and to keep him as secluded as possible in order to deprive him of all influence. Whilst Sellar was wasting immense sums, the sultan was in fact almost starving. When Sellar went on a pilgrimage to Mecca, he paid the debts of all the Moslems who had retired to this town; he further distributed ten thousand malters of fruit amongst the poor people in the town, and so much money and provisions that they were able to live on it for a whole year. He also treated the inhabitants of Medina and Jiddah in an equally generous way. The sultan, who was hunting in Lower Egypt, at the same time tried in vain to obtain a small loan from the Alexandrian merchants, to buy a present for his wife. Finally, his vizier, who had granted him two thousand dinars ($5,060), was accused on Sellar’s return of embezzling the public money, was led round the town on a donkey, and beaten and tortured so long that he succumbed under his torments.

In the year 1307, when Nasir was twenty-three years old, though still treated as a child, he attempted, with the help of the Emir Bektimur, who commanded the Mamluks in the palace, to seize the persons of his oppressors. The plan failed, for they had their spies everywhere, and the only result was that the sultan’s faithful servants were banished to Syria, and the sultan himself was more oppressed than ever. It was two years before he succeeded in deceiving his tyrants. He expressed the wish to make a pilgrimage to Mecca; this was granted, as the emirs saw nothing dangerous in it, and, moreover, as a religious duty, it could not be resisted. As soon as he reached the fortress Kerak, with the help of those soldiers in his escort who were devoted to his cause, and having deceived the governor by means of false letters, he obtained possession of the fortress, and immediately declared his independence of the guardianship of Sellar and Beybars. Sellar and Beybars, on hearing this, immediately summoned the sultan to return to Cairo; but, even before they received his answer, they realised that their rule was over, and that either they must quit the field, or Nasir must be dethroned. After long consideration amongst themselves, they proceeded to the choice of another sultan, and the choice fell on Beybars (April, 1309). Beybars accepted the proffered throne on the condition that Sellar also retained his place. He confirmed the other emirs also in their offices, hoping thereby to gain their support.

The change of government met with no resistance in Egypt, where the majority of the emirs had long been dependent on Beybars and Sellar. In Syria, on the other hand, the emirs acting as governors refused to acknowledge Beybars, partly from devotion to Nasir’s race, and partly because the choice had been made without their consent. Only Akush, Governor of Damascus, who was an old friend of Beybars, and like him a Circassian, took the oath of allegiance. The governors of Aleppo, Hamah, and Tripoli, together with the governors of Safed and Jerusalem, called upon Nasir to join them, and, with the help of his other followers, to reconquer Egypt. The cunning sultan, who saw that the time for open resistance had not yet arrived, since Egypt was as yet too unanimous, and Damascus also had joined the enemy, advised them to deceive Beybars and to take the oath of allegiance, which they could break later, as having been obtained by force. He himself feigned to submit to the new government, and even had the prayers carried on from the chancel in Beybars’ name. Beybars was deceived, although he knew with certainty that Nasir carried on a lively intercourse with the discontented emirs. He relied chiefly on Akush, who kept a strict watch over Nasir’s movements. The spies of Akush, however, were open to corruption, and they failed later to take steps to render Nasir harmless at the right moment. Beybars believed Nasir to be still in Kerak, when he was well on the way to Damascus; and when he finally received news of this, the rebellion had already gone so far that some of the troops who had been sent out against the sultan had already deserted to his side. The only possible way of allaying the storm was for Beybars to put himself at the head of his troops, and, joining forces with Akush, to offer battle to Nasir. The necessary courage and resolution failed him. Instead of having recourse to the sword, he applied to the caliph, who declared Nasir an exile, and summoned all believers to listen to the Sultan Beybars—whom he had consecrated—and to take part in the war against the rebel, Nasir. But the summons of the caliph, which was read in all the chancels, had not the slightest effect. The belief in the caliph had long disappeared, except in so far as he was considered a tool of the sultan on whom he depended. Even Beybars’ party mocked the caliph’s declaration, and wherever it was read manifestations were made in favour of the exile. Beybars, also, was now deserted by Sellar, and he at length was obliged to resign. Beybars was then seized and throttled by Nasir, and Sellar was starved to death.

Nasir, who now came to the throne, had grown suspicious and treacherous on account of the many hardships and betrayals endured by him during his youth. He was, however, favourable to the Christians, and to such an extent that he received anonymous letters reproaching him for allowing Moslems to be oppressed by Christian officials. He found them to be experienced in financial matters, for, in spite of all decrees, they had never ceased to hold secretaryships in different states: they were, moreover, more unscrupulous than born Muhammedans, who always had more respect for law, custom, and public opinion. Certainly the sultan considered the ministers in whom he placed great confidence less dangerous if they were wow-Moslems, since he was their only support, whereas comrades in religion could always find plenty of support and might easily betray him.

Nasir died on the 6th of June, 1341, at about fifty-eight years of age, after a reign of forty-three years. His rule, which did not actually begin until he mounted the throne for the third time, lasted thirty-two years. During this period he was absolute ruler in the strongest sense of the word; every important affair was decided by him alone. The emirs had to refer all matters to him, and were a constant source of suspicion and oversight. They might not speak to each other in his presence, nor visit each other without his consent. The mildest punishment for breaking such decrees was banishment to Syria. Nasir inspired them with fear rather than with love and respect, and, as soon as it was known that his illness was incurable, no one paid any further attention to him. He died as a pious Moslem and repentant sinner in the presence of some of his servants. His burial, which took place by night, was attended by a few emirs, and only one wax candle and one lamp were carried before the bier. As one of his biographers justly remarks, the rich sultan, whose dominion had extended from the borders of Abyssinia to Asia Minor and up the Euphrates as far as Tunis, and the father of a large family, ended his life like a stranger, was buried like a poor man, and brought to his grave like a man without wife or child. Nasir was the last sultan who ruled over the Bahritic Mamluk kingdom with a firm hand. After his death we read of one insurrection after another, and the sultans were either deposed or became mere slaves of the emirs. Abu Bekr, whom Nasir had appointed his successor, did not hold his own for quite two months, because he maltreated the discontented emirs and put his favourites in their places. An insurrection, with the Emir Kausun at its head, was formed against him; he was dethroned and his six-year-old brother Kujuk was proclaimed sultan in his stead. The dethroned sultan was banished to Upper Egypt, whither his elder brother Ahmed should have been brought; Ahmed, however, refused to leave his fortress of Kerak, and, finding support among the Syrian emirs, he conspired against Kausun, who was at this moment threatened also with an insurrection in Cairo. After several bloody battles, Kausun was forced to yield, and Ahmed was proclaimed sultan (January, 1342). Ahmed, however, preferred a quiet, peaceful life to the dangerous post of sultan, and not until he had received the most solemn oaths of allegiance did he proceed to his capital, where he arrived quite unexpectedly, so that no festivities had been prepared. After some time, he had all the Syrian emirs arrested by his Mam-luks, because they tried to usurp his powers; he then appointed a regent, and himself returned to Kerak, taking with him everything he had found in the sultan’s palace, and there he remained in spite of the entreaties of the faithful emirs, and lived simply for his own pleasure.

The natural consequence of all this was Ahmed’s deposition in June, 1342. His brother Ismail, a good-hearted youth of seventeen years, sent troops to Kerak to demand an oath of allegiance from Ahmed, but they could effect nothing, as the fortress was well fortified and provisioned, and, moreover, many of the emirs, both in Syria and Egypt, were still in league with Ahmed. Not until fresh troops had been sent, and Ahmed himself betrayed, did they succeed in taking the fortress; and Ahmed was put to death in 1344. Ahmed’s death made such a deep impression upon the weak sultan that he fell into a fit of depression which gradually increased until he died in August of the following year.