Stratagems were still greatly in vogue, and some of them are of so dramatic a character that they tell rather of the jongleur than of the sober historian. Others, with enough of the marvellous, are less out of the bounds of probability. In 1250, Matthew Paris informs us, the Saracens gained a victory over a body of Crusaders, whom they slew. Desiring to obtain possession of Damietta, which was in the hands of the Christians, "a strong body of them, about equal in number to the Crusaders they had slain, treacherously putting on the armour, and carrying the shields and standards of the Christians who had fallen, set out thus disguised towards Damietta; in order that, having the appearance of French troops, they might gain admission into the city, and, as soon as admitted, might kill all they found therein. When they approached the walls, the Christians on guard looked forth from the ramparts and towers, and at first thought they were Christians, exultingly bearing spoils and trophies: but the nearer they approached, the more unlike Frenchmen they seemed: for they marched hurriedly and in disordered crowds, and sloped their shields irregularly, more after the manner of Saracens than of French. And when they reached the extremities of the fortifications and approached the gates of the city, they were clearly seen to be Saracens by their black and bearded faces. But who can fully relate the heartfelt grief of the Christians when they saw the enemies of the faith giving vent to their pride and derision, clad in the armour, and bearing the standards and painted devices which were so well known to them[325]." The device of equipping several soldiers in similar arms to the leader of the host, seems also to have been in use. At the siege of Viterbo in 1243, Matthew Paris tells us, "One illustrious soldier on the Emperor's side, and adorned with his special arms, (_armis ipsius specialibus decoratus_,) miserably expired, to the great grief of the Emperor, being pierced by the quarrel of a crossbow. His enemies raised a shout of joy, thinking they had slain the Emperor himself; but the Emperor, preceded by his trumpeters, advanced; and, though not without difficulty, disengaged his army from the fury of their opponents, who had suddenly pressed forward to crush them[326]." The influence of the stars, the power of lucky and unlucky days over the issue of battle, were still occasionally acknowledged; not alone by the rude leaders of a company of men-at-arms, but by the commanders of armies, by crowned dignitaries. The Emperor Frederic II. had a firm faith in the predictions of astrologers; he never undertook a march until the fortunate moment for departure had been fixed by those skilled in divination; and when, in 1239, he was about to advance against Treviso, his march was suddenly arrested by an eclipse of the sun[327]. [Illustration: GREAT SEAL OF KING JOHN. No. 52.]