“When King Richard arrived at Jaffa, the crescent already shone upon the walls; but a priest who had cast himself into the water in front of the royal vessel told Richard that he could yet save the garrison, although the town was already in the hands of the enemy. The ship had not yet reached the landing-stage, and already the king was in the water, which reached to his shoulders, and was uttering the war-cry ‘St. George!’ The infidels, who were then plundering the city, took fright, and three thousand men fled, pursued by four or five knights of the cross. The little corps of Christians intrenched themselves behind planks of wood, and tuns; ten tents held the whole of the army. Day had scarcely dawned, when a soldier flew to Richard’s bedside. ‘O king, we are dead men!’ he cried; ‘the enemy is upon us.’ The king sprang up from his bed, scarcely allowing himself time to buckle on his armor, and omitting his helmet and shield. ‘Silence!’ he said to the bearer of the bad news, ‘or I will kill you.’ Seventeen knights had gathered round Cœur de Lion, kneeling on the ground, and holding their lances; in their midst were some archers, accompanied by attendants who were recharging their arquebuses. The king was standing in the midst. The Saracens endeavored in vain to overawe this heroic little band; not one of them stirred. At length, under a shower of arrows, the knights sprang on their horses, and swept the plain before them. They entered Jaffa towards evening, and drove the Mussulmans from it. From the time of daybreak Richard had not ceased for a moment to deal out his blows, and the skin of his hand adhered to the handle of his battle-axe.” Still more graphically do the old chronicles thus describe this battle:—