disastrous failure. In the Seventh Crusade he attacked, not Jerusalem,
but Egypt, then the centre of Mahometan power. He was defeated and
made prisoner; his army was practically exterminated. Yet by a
personal heroism, which shone even more brilliantly in adversity than
in success, he has won lasting fame. His captivity disrupted an
empire. The mamelukes, the slave soldiers of Egypt, who had fought
most valiantly against him, were wakened to a realization of their own
power. They overthrew their sultan, and founded an Egyptian government
which lasted until Napoleon's time.[13]

After much suffering, Louis was allowed to purchase his freedom and
returned to France. There he spent long years of wise government, of
noble guidance of his people, and of secret preparations which he
dared not avow. At length in his old age he confessed to his astounded
nation that he meant to make one more attempt against the Saracens. It
was a vow to God, he said, and he begged his people for assistance.
The age had outgrown crusades. Perhaps no one man in all Louis'
domains believed in the possibility of his success. History scarce
presents anywhere a spectacle more pathetic than this last crusade,
compelled by the fire of a single enthusiast. In love of him, his
soldiers followed him, though with despair at heart; and the weeping
crowds who bade them farewell at their ships, mourned them as men
already dead. They attempted to attack the Saracens first at Tunis,
and there Louis died of fever. The crusades perished with him.[14]


POPE AND EMPEROR

With the wane of the crusading fervor waned also the power of the
popes. Innocent had extended his authority by terror and physical