We now come to one of the most remarkable sieges of this extraordinary
city. In the eleventh century, after a lapse of four hundred years,
during which it had passed from the hands of the Saracens to those of
the Seldjouc Turks, Jerusalem, a Mahometan city, was beleaguered by
the great band of Christian adventurers who had left Europe for the
express purpose of delivering it. This is not the place to dilate upon
the subject of the Crusades; it is our business to describe some of the
sieges to which they gave rise.
Most readers are acquainted with the calamities of various kinds which
the Christians had to endure before they could set an army down beneath
the walls of this great object of their enterprise. We shall take our
account of this awful struggle from the pages of a highly-accredited
historian, satisfied that no effort of our own could make it more
interesting or instructive.
With the earliest dawn, on the 10th of June, 1099, the Crusaders
ascended the heights of Emmaus. All at once the Holy City lay before
them. We can compare the cry of the Crusaders, at this sight, to
nothing but that of “Land! land!” uttered by the companions of Columbus
when they completed their great discovery. “Jerusalem! Jerusalem!” was
shouted from every lip, but was soon repeated with bated breath and
bended knee, when all that belonged to that city recurred to the minds
of the brave adventurers. The rear ranks rushed through those that
preceded them, to behold the long-desired object, and their war-cry,
“God wills it! God wills it!” re-echoed from the Hill of Sion to the
Mount of Olives. The horsemen alighted humbly from their steeds, and
walked barefoot. Some cast themselves upon their knees, whilst others
kissed the earth rendered sacred by the presence of the Saviour. In
their transports they passed from joy to sorrow, from sorrow to joy. At
one moment they congratulated each other at approaching the great end
of their labours; in the next they wept over their sins, over the death
of Christ, and over his profaned tomb; but all united in repeating
the oath they had so many times made, of delivering the city from the
sacrilegious yoke of the Mussulmans.
At the time of the Crusades, Jerusalem formed, as it does now, a
square, rather longer than broad, of a league in circumference. It
extended over four hills: on the east the Moriah, upon which the mosque
of Omar had been built, in the place of the Temple of Solomon; on the
south and west, the Acra, which occupied the whole width of the city;
on the north, the Bezetha, or the new city; and on the north-west, the
Golgotha, or Calvary, which the Greeks considered the centre of the
world, and upon which the Church of the Resurrection was built. In the
state in which Jerusalem then was, it had lost much of its strength and
extent. Mount Sion no longer rose within its precincts, and dominated
over the walls between the south and the west. The three valleys which
surrounded its ramparts had been in many places filled up by Adrian,
and access to the place was much more difficult, particularly from the
north. Jerusalem, however, had had to sustain several sieges whilst
under the domination of the Saracens, and its fortifications had not
been neglected.
Whilst the Crusaders had been so slowly advancing towards the city,
the caliph’s lieutenant, Istekhar-Eddaulah, ravaged the neighbouring
plains, burnt the villages, filled up or poisoned the cisterns, and
made a desert of the spot upon which the Christians were doomed to
be given up to all sorts of miseries. He brought in provisions for a
long siege, and called upon all Mussulmans to repair to the defence
of Jerusalem. Numberless workmen were employed, day and night, in
constructing machines of war, raising the fallen walls, and repairing
the towers. The garrison of the city amounted to forty thousand men,
and twenty thousand inhabitants took up arms.
On the approach of the Christians, some detachments left the city,
to observe the march and plans of the enemy. They were repulsed by
Baldwin du Bourg and Tancred, the latter hastening from Bethlehem, of
which he had just taken possession. After pursuing the fugitives to
the gates of the Holy City, he left his companions, and strayed alone
to the Mount of Olives, whence he contemplated at leisure the city
promised to the arms and devotion of the pilgrims. He was disturbed in
his pious contemplations by five Mussulmans, who left the city for the
purpose of attacking him. Tancred did not seek to avoid the combat;
three Saracens fell beneath his powerful arm, and the other two fled
back to Jerusalem. Without hastening or retarding his steps, Tancred
rejoined the army, which, in its enthusiasm, was advancing without
order, and descended the heights of Emmaus, singing the words of
Isaiah--“_Jerusalem, lift up thine eyes, and behold the liberator who
cometh to break thy chains!_”
On the day after their arrival, the Crusaders formed the siege of
the place. The Duke of Normandy, the Count of Flanders, and Tancred,
encamped upon the north, from the gate of Herod to the gate of Sedar,
or St. Stephen. Next to these Flemings, Normans, and Italians, were
placed the English, commanded by Edgar Atheling; and the Bretons,
led by their duke, Alain Fergent, the Sire de Château Giron, and the
Viscount de Dinan. Godfrey, Eustache, and Baldwin du Bourg, established
their quarters between the west and the north, around the extent of
Calvary, from the gate of Damascus to the gate of Jaffa. The Count
of Toulouse planted his camp to the right of Godfrey, between the
south and the west; he had next him Raimbard of Orange, William de
Montpellier, and Gaston de Béaru: his troops extended at first along
the declivity of Sion, but a few days after he erected his tents upon
the top of the mountain, at the very spot where Christ celebrated
the Passover with his disciples. By these dispositions the Crusaders
left free the sides of the city which were defended, on the south by
the valley of Gihon, or Siloë, and towards the east by the valley of
Josaphat.
Every step around Jerusalem recalled to the pilgrims some remembrance
dear to their religion. This territory, so revered by the Christians,
had neither valley nor rock which had not a name in sacred history.
Everything they saw awakened or warmed their imagination. But that
which most inflamed the zeal of the Crusaders for the deliverance of
the city, was the arrival among them of a great number of Christians,
who, deprived of their property and driven from their houses, came to
seek succour and an asylum amidst their brethren of the West. These
Christians described the persecutions which the worshippers of Christ
had undergone at the hands of the Mussulmans. The women, children, and
old men were detained as hostages; all who were able to bear arms were
condemned to labour exceeding their strength. The head of the principal
hospital for pilgrims, together with a great number of Christians,
had been thrown into prison. The treasures of the churches had been
plundered to support the Mussulman soldiery. The patriarch Simeon was
gone to Cyprus, to implore the charity of the faithful to save his
flock from threatened destruction, if he did not pay the enormous
tribute imposed by the oppressors of the Holy City. Every day the
Christians of Jerusalem were loaded with fresh outrages; and several
times the infidels had formed the project of giving them up to the
flames, and completely destroying the Holy Sepulchre, with the Church
of the Resurrection. The Christian fugitives, whilst making these
doleful recitals to the warlike pilgrims, earnestly exhorted them to
attack Jerusalem. In the early days of the siege, an anchorite, who had
fixed his retreat upon the Mount of Olives, came to join his entreaties
to those of the banished Christians, to persuade the Crusaders to
proceed to an immediate assault; he urged his suit in the name of
Christ, of whom he declared himself the interpreter. The Crusaders,
who had neither ladders nor machines of war, gave themselves up to the
counsels of the pious hermit, and believed that their courage and their
good swords would suffice to overthrow the ramparts of the Saracens.
The leaders, who had seen such prodigies enacted by the valour and
enthusiasm of the Christian soldiers, and who had not forgotten the
prolonged miseries of the siege of Antioch, yielded without difficulty
to the impatience of the army; in addition to which, the sight of
Jerusalem had exalted the spirits of the Crusaders, and rendered the
least credulous hopeful that God would second their bravery by miracles.
At the first signal, the Christian army advanced in good order towards
the ramparts. Never, say historians, was so much ardour witnessed in
the soldiers of the Cross; some, serried in close battalions, covered
themselves with their bucklers, which formed an impenetrable vault
over their heads, and gave their utmost efforts to shake the walls
with pikes and hammers; whilst others, ranged in long files, remained
at some distance, employing slings and cross-bows to drive away the
enemies from the ramparts. Boiling oil and pitch, immense stones and
enormous timbers, fell upon the first ranks of the Christians, without
stopping their labours. The outward wall had already crumbled beneath
their blows, but the interior wall presented an invincible object.
Escalade was the only means left. This bold method was attempted,
although they could only find one ladder long enough to reach the top
of the walls. The bravest mounted it, and fought hand to hand with the
Saracens, who were astonished at such audacity. The Crusaders would
most probably have entered Jerusalem that very day, if they had had
the necessary war instruments and machines; but the small number who
were able to attain the top of the walls could not maintain themselves
there. Bravery was useless; Heaven did not accord the miracles promised
by the hermit, and the Saracens at length forced the assailants to
retreat.
The Christians returned to their camp, deploring their imprudence and
their credulity. This first reverse taught them that they could not
reckon upon prodigies, and that they must, before they could expect
to succeed, construct some machines of war. But it was difficult to
procure the necessary wood in a country which presented nothing but
barren sand and arid rocks. Several detachments were sent to search
for wood in the neighbouring plains. Chance led them to the discovery
of some immense beams in the depths of a cavern, and Tancred had them
transported to the camp. They demolished all the houses and churches
that had escaped the flames; and every stick of wood that the Saracens
had not destroyed, was employed in the construction of the machines.
Notwithstanding the discoveries, the work did not keep pace with the
impatience of the Crusaders, or prevent the evils which threatened
the Christian army. The great summer heats commenced at the very time
the pilgrims arrived before Jerusalem. A blazing sun, and southern
winds laden with the sands of the desert, heated the atmosphere to an
intolerable degree. Plants and animals perished; the torrent of Cedron
was dried up; all the cisterns around were either choked or poisoned.
Beneath a sky of fire, in a burning and arid country, the Christian
army soon found itself a prey to all the horrors of thirst.
The fountain of Siloë, which only flowed at intervals, could not
suffice for the multitude of pilgrims. A skin of fetid water, fetched
three leagues, was worth two silver deniers. Overcome by thirst and
heat, the soldiers were seen digging the soil with their swords,
thrusting their hands into the freshly-turned earth, and eagerly
carrying the humid particles to their parched lips. During the day,
they anxiously looked for night; and during the night, panted for dawn,
in the ever-disappointed hope that the return of the one or the other
would bring some degree of freshness or some drops of rain. Every
morning they were to be seen gluing their burning lips to the marbles
which were covered with dew. During the heat of the day the most robust
languished under their tents, without having even strength to implore
Heaven for relief.
The knights and barons were in no respect exempt from the scourge under
which the army suffered; and many of them daily exchanged for water
the treasures obtained from the infidels. “The grief of this extreme
thirst,” says the old translator of William of Tyre, “was not so great
for the foot soldiers as for the horsemen; the foot soldier could
content himself with a little, but the horsemen could only satisfy
their horses with copious draughts. As to the beasts of burden, there
was no more account taken of them than of so many dead creatures; they
were allowed to wander away at will, and died of thirst.”
In this state of general misery, the women and children dragged
themselves about the country in search of a spring or cooling shades
which had no existence. Many of these, wandering too far from the army,
fell into the ambuscades of the Saracens, and lost either their lives
or their liberty. When a pilgrim discovered a spring or a cistern in a
secluded spot, he concealed it from his companions, or forbade their
approaching it. Violent quarrels arose in consequence, and it was not
uncommon to see the soldiers of the Cross contending, sword in hand,
for a little muddy water. The want of water was so insupportable, that
famine was scarcely perceived or thought of: the heats of thirst and of
the climate made them careless of food.
If the besieged had then made a spirited sortie, they would have easily
triumphed over the Crusaders; but the latter were defended by the
remembrance of their exploits, and, however great their distress, their
name alone still inspired terror among the Saracens. The Mussulmans
might, likewise, well believe that their enemies could not long resist
the double scourge of hunger and thirst. In fact, their situation
became so dreadful, that the object of their enterprise was lost to
their minds; they not only forgot the Holy City, but their God. And
then came thoughts of the homes they had left; and many, deserting the
colours they had fought so bravely under, fled away to the ports of
Palestine and Syria, to watch for an opportunity of returning to Europe.
The leaders were fully aware there was no other remedy for the ills
they laboured under but the capture of Jerusalem; but the labours
of the siege went on slowly; they had not yet enough wood for the
construction of machines; they wanted labourers and the necessary
implements. We cannot help being here struck with the difference
between an army governed by one strong mind and will, and one under
fifty commanders, as this of the Crusaders was. When Titus wanted
a wall built round the city, his legions did it in three days; the
Crusaders complained of scarcity of labourers for the erection of a
few machines. From the first Crusade to the last, this was the cause
of failure; every captain was a private adventurer; he acknowledged no
sovereign commander, and was at all times governed by what he thought
to be his own private interests: there was scarcely ever any unity of
view or action.
The wisest and the bravest, in such a critical situation, were
beginning to despair of the success of the holy enterprise, when
they were cheered by a succour as welcome as it was unexpected. They
learned that a Genoese fleet had entered the port of Joppa, laden with
provisions and munitions of all kinds. This news spread joy throughout
the Christian army; a body of three hundred men left the camp to go and
meet the convoy, which Heaven appeared to have sent to the Crusaders
in their misery. The detachment, after having beaten the Saracens they
met with on their passage, entered the city of Joppa, which had been
abandoned by its inhabitants, and was occupied by the Genoese. The
Crusaders learnt that the Genoese fleet had been surprised and burnt
by that of the Saracens, but that they had had time to secure the
provisions, and a great number of implements and tools. All that was
saved was safely conveyed to the camp; and it afforded the Crusaders
additional joy to find that the welcome supply was attended by a great
number of Genoese engineers and carpenters.
As wood was still short for the construction of the machines, a Syrian
conducted the Duke of Normandy and the Count of Flanders to a mountain
situated thirty miles from Jerusalem. It was here the Christians found
the forest of which Tasso speaks in the “Jerusalem Delivered.” The
trees of this forest were not forbidden to the axe of the Crusaders,
either by the enchantment of Ismen, or the arms of the Saracens: cars
drawn by oxen transported it in triumph to the walls of Jerusalem.
All the leaders except Raymond of Toulouse were in want of money to
pay for the labours they had commanded. The zeal and charity of the
pilgrims came to their relief; many offered all they had left of the
booty conquered from the enemy; knights and barons themselves became
laborious workmen; all at length were employed--everything in the
army was in movement: women, children, and even the sick, shared the
labours of the soldiers. Whilst the most robust were occupied in the
construction of rams, catapultas, and covered galleries, others fetched
in skins the water they drew from the fountain of Elperus, on the
road to Damascus, or from the rivulet which flowed on the other side
of Bethlehem, towards the desert of St. John; some prepared the skins
which were to be stretched over the machines to make them proof against
fire; whilst others traversed the neighbouring plains and mountains,
to collect branches of the olive and fig trees to make hurdles and
fascines.
Although the Christians had still much to suffer from thirst and the
heat of the climate, the hope of soon seeing an end to their labours
gave them strength to support them. The preparations for the assault
were pressed on with incredible activity; every day some new formidable
machine threatened the ramparts of the Saracens. Their construction
was directed by Gaston of Béarn, of whose bravery and skill historians
speak loudly. Among these machines were three enormous towers of a new
form, each having three stages: the first destined for the workmen
who directed the movements of it, and the second and third for the
warriors who were to make the assault. These rolling fortresses rose to
a greater height than the walls of the besieged city; on the top was
a species of drawbridge, which could be lowered on to the ramparts and
form a road into the place.
But these powerful means of attack were not the only ones which were
to second the efforts of the Crusaders. The religious enthusiasm which
had already performed such prodigies, again lent its influence to
augment their ardour and confidence in victory. The clergy, spreading
themselves through the quarters, exhorted the pilgrims to penitence and
concord. Misery, which always gives birth to complaints and murmurs,
had soured their hearts; it had sown divisions between the leaders
and the soldiers, who at other times had quarrelled for cities and
treasures, but for whom now things the most common had become objects
of jealousy and strife. The solitary from the Mount of Olives added
his exhortations to those of the clergy; and, addressing the princes
and people,--“You who are come,” said he, “from the far regions of the
West to worship the God of armies, love each other like brethren, and
sanctify yourselves by repentance and good works. If you obey the laws
of God, He will render you masters of the holy city; if you resist Him,
all His anger will fall upon you.” The solitary advised the Crusaders
to make the tour of Jerusalem, invoking the mercy and protection of
Heaven.
The pilgrims, persuaded that the gates of the city were not less
likely to open to devotion than bravery, listened with docility to the
exhortations of the hermit, whose counsel they conceived to be the
language of God himself. After a rigorous fast of three days, they left
their quarters, in arms, and marched barefooted, with heads uncovered,
around the walls of the holy city. They were preceded by their priests
clothed in white, bearing the images of saints, and singing psalms and
spiritual songs; the ensigns were unfurled, and the drums and trumpets
called the echoes from the hills and valleys. It was thus the Hebrews
had formerly made the tour of Jericho, whose walls crumbled away at the
sound of their instruments.
The Crusaders set out from the valley of Rephraim, which is opposite
Calvary; they advanced towards the north, and, on entering the valley
of Josophat, saluted the tombs of Mary, St. Stephen, and _the first
elect of God_. Whilst continuing their march towards the Mount of
Olives, they contemplated with respect the grotto in which Christ shed
the sweat of blood, and the spot where the Saviour of the world wept
over Jerusalem. When they arrived at the summit of the mountain, the
most imposing spectacle presented itself to their eyes: on the east
they beheld the plains of Jericho, the shores of the Dead Sea, and the
banks of the Jordan; on the west, the holy city lay at their feet, with
its territory strewn with sacred ruins: assembled on the very spot
whence Christ ascended into Heaven, and where they anxiously looked for
the vestiges of his steps, they listened to the exhortations of their
priests and bishops. Arnoul de Rohés, chaplain to the Duke of Normandy,
addressed them in a pathetic discourse, conjuring them to redouble
their zeal and perseverance. In terminating his address, he turned
towards Jerusalem: “You behold,” said he, “the heritage of Christ
defiled by the impious: here is at length the worthy reward of all your
labours: these are the places in which God will pardon you all your
sins and bless your victories.” At the voice of the orator, who pointed
to the Church of the Resurrection and the rocks of Calvary ready to
receive them, the defenders of the Cross humbled themselves before God,
and fixed their looks intensely upon Jerusalem.
As Arnoul pressed them in the name of Christ to pardon injuries and to
love one another, Tancred and Raymond, who had long had differences,
embraced in the presence of the whole army; the soldiers and other
leaders followed their example. The rich promised to assist with
their alms the poor and the orphans who bore the cross. All forgot
their fatal discords, and swore to remain faithful to the precepts of
evangelic charity.
Whilst the Crusaders were thus giving themselves up to transports of
devotion and piety, the Saracens assembled upon the ramparts raised
high in the air crosses, which they loaded with outrages; they insulted
the ceremonies of the Christians by their gestures and clamours.
“You hear,” exclaimed Peter the hermit, “you hear the menaces and
blasphemies of the enemies of the true God; swear to defend Christ, a
prisoner and crucified a second time by the infidels. You behold him
expiring a second time on Calvary for the redemption of your sins.” At
these words, the cenobite was interrupted by the cries and groans of
indignation which arose on all parts around him. “Yes, I swear by your
piety,” continued the orator, “I swear by your arms, the reign of the
impious draws near to its end. The army of the Lord has only to appear,
and all that vain mass of Mussulmans will fade away like a shadow.
To-day full of pride and insolence, to-morrow they will be frozen with
terror, and will fall motionless before you, as did the guardians of
the sepulchre, who felt their weapons escape from their hands, and sunk
dead with fear when an earthquake announced the presence of a God upon
Calvary, where you are about to mount to the breach. Yet a few moments,
and those towers--the last bulwarks of the infidels--will be the asylum
of Christians; those mosques, which rise upon Christian ruins, will
serve as temples to the true God, and Jerusalem will once again listen
to nothing but the praises of the Lord.”
At these last words of Peter, the most lively transports burst from
the Crusaders; they embraced again and again, with tears pouring down
their embrowned cheeks, exhorting each other to support the evils and
fatigues of which they were about to receive the glorious reward. The
Christians then came down from the Mount of Olives to return to their
camp, and, taking their route towards the south, saluted on their right
the tomb of David, and passed close to the Pool of Siloë, where Christ
restored sight to the blind; they perceived at a distance the ruins
of the palace of Juda, and marched along the declivity of Mount Sion,
where other remembrances added to their enthusiasm. Towards evening,
the Christian army regained their quarters, repeating the words of the
prophet,--“_They of the West shall fear the Lord, and they of the East
shall behold His glory_.” When they had re-entered the camp, most of
the pilgrims passed the night in prayer; the leaders and the soldiers
confessed their sins at the feet of their priests, and received their
God, whose promises filled them with confidence and hope.
Whilst matters were going on thus in the camp, the most profound
silence reigned around the walls of Jerusalem, only broken by the
voices issuing from hour to hour from the minarets of the mosques,
to call the faithful to prayer. The infidels flocked in crowds to
their temples to implore the protection of their prophet, and swore
by the mysterious stone of Jacob to defend a city, which they called
_the house of God_. The besieged and the besiegers were stimulated by
the same ardour to fight and shed their blood: the former to preserve
Jerusalem, the latter to make the conquest of it. The hatred which
animated them was so violent, that, during the whole of the siege,
no deputed Mussulman came to the camp of the Christians, and the
Christians never once deigned to summon the garrison to surrender.
Between such enemies, the shock must be terrible and the victory
implacable.
It was resolved, in a council of the leaders, to take advantage of
the enthusiasm whilst it was at its height, and execute the assault.
As the Saracens displayed a great number of machines on the sides of
the city which appeared to be most threatened by the Christians, it
was determined to change the dispositions of the siege, and that the
principal attack should be directed towards the points where the enemy
had made no preparations for defence.
During the night Godfrey removed his quarters to the eastward, towards
the gate of Cedar, not far from the valley in which Titus encamped when
his soldiers penetrated into the galleries of the temple. The rolling
tower, and the other machines of war which the Duke of Lorraine had
caused to be built, were transported, with incredible efforts, in front
of the walls he wished to attack. Tancred and the two Roberts drew up
their machines between the gate of Damascus and the angular tower,
which was afterwards called _Tancred’s Tower_.
At break of day the Saracens, on beholding these new dispositions,
were seized with astonishment and terror. The Crusaders might have
taken advantage of the confusion inspired in this change; but upon a
steep ground it was difficult to bring their machines close to the
walls. Raymond, in particular, who was charged with the attack on the
south, found himself separated from the ramparts by a ravine, which it
was necessary for him to fill up. He caused it to be proclaimed by a
herald that he would pay a denier to every person who would cast three
stones into it. A crowd of people instantly flocked to the aid of the
soldiers,--a shower of darts and arrows from the ramparts producing no
effect upon the ardour and zeal of the labourers. At length, by the end
of the third day, all was completed, and the leaders gave the signal
for a general assault.
On Thursday, the 14th of July, 1099, as soon as day appeared, the
clarions resounded in the camp of the Christians; all the Crusaders
flew to arms; all the machines were put in motion at once; pedereros
and mangonnels vomited a shower of stones against the enemy; whilst,
protected by the tortoises and covered galleries, the rams were
brought up close to the walls. The archers and cross-bowmen kept up a
continuous discharge at the ramparts, whilst the bravest, covered with
their bucklers, planted ladders in places where the walls appeared most
assailable. On the south, the east, and the north of the city, the
three rolling towers advanced towards the ramparts, amidst tumultuous
noise, and the shouts of the workmen and soldiers. Godfrey appeared
upon the highest platform of his wooden fortress, accompanied by his
brother Eustache, and Baldwin du Bourg. He animated his men by his
example; every javelin he hurled, say the historians of the times,
carried death to a Saracen. Raymond, Tancred, the Duke of Normandy, and
the Count of Flanders fought amongst their soldiers; the knights and
men-at-arms were animated by the same ardour as the principal leaders,
and eagerly sought every point where danger threatened most.
Nothing could equal the fury of the first charge of the Christians,
but it everywhere met with an obstinate resistance. Arrows, javelins,
boiling oil, the Greek fire, and fourteen machines, which the besieged
had had time to oppose to those of their enemies, repelled on all sides
the attack and the efforts of the assailants. The infidels, issuing by
a breach made in their rampart, attempted to burn the machines of the
besiegers, and spread disorder throughout the Christian army. Towards
the end of the day the towers of Godfrey and Tancred could not be made
to move; Raymond’s had sunk into ruins. The combat had lasted twelve
hours without victory appearing to be at all inclined to favour the
Crusaders;--night separated the combatants. The Christians returned to
their camp, trembling with rage and grief; the leaders, particularly
the two Roberts, could not console themselves, from the idea _that God
had not yet thought them worthy to enter the Holy City, and worship the
tomb of his Son_.
The night was passed on both sides in a state of anxious inquietude,
each deploring their losses, and trembling at the prospect of fresh
ones. The Saracens expected a surprise; the Christians feared that
the Saracens would burn the machines they had left at the foot of the
ramparts. The besieged were employed in repairing the breaches made in
their walls; the besiegers in attempting to put their machines in a
state for another attack. The following day brought the same combats
and the same dangers as the preceding one. The leaders endeavoured to
revive the courage of the Crusaders by their speeches. The priests and
bishops went among the tents of the soldiers, announcing the certain
succour of Heaven. The Christian army, filled with new confidence in
victory, appeared under arms, and advanced in silence towards the
points of attack, whilst the clergy walked in procession round the city.
The first shock was impetuous and terrible. The Christians, indignant
at the resistance they had met with the day before, fought with fury.
The besieged, who had learnt the arrival of an Egyptian army, were
animated by the hopes of victory; formidable machines covered their
ramparts. Javelins were heard hissing on all sides; stones and large
timbers, launched by the Christians and the infidels, met in the air
with a fearful crash, and fell upon the assailants. From the height
of their towers the Mussulmans incessantly hurled blazing torches and
fire-pots. The wooden fortresses of the Christians approached the walls
amidst a conflagration which seemed spreading in all directions. The
infidels directed most of their efforts against the tower of Godfrey,
upon which glittered a cross of gold, the sight of which provoked
their fury and their insults. The Duke of Lorraine had seen one of his
esquires and several of his soldiers fall by his side; himself a mark
for all the arrows and darts of the enemy, he fought on amidst the dead
and the wounded, never ceasing to shout encouragement to his companions
in arms. The Count of Toulouse, who attacked the city on the south
side, opposed all his machines to those of the Mussulmans; he had to
contend with the Emir of Jerusalem, who animated his troops by his
words, and showed himself upon the walls, surrounded by the _élite_ of
the Egyptian soldiery. Towards the north, Tancred and the two Roberts
appeared at the head of their battalions. Motionless upon their rolling
fortress, they looked impatient to be wielding lance and sword. Already
their rams had, upon several points, shaken the wall, behind which the
Saracens closed their ranks, and presented themselves as a last rampart
to the attack of the Crusaders.
In the midst of the combat, say the historians, two female magicians
appeared upon the ramparts of the city, appealing to the elements
and the powers of hell. They were not able to avoid the death they
invoked upon the Christians, and fell beneath a shower of arrows and
stones. Two Egyptian emissaries, who had come from Ascalon to exhort
the besieged to defend themselves, were surprised by the Crusaders as
they were seeking to obtain entrance into the city. One of them fell,
covered with wounds; the other, after having revealed the secret of his
mission, was launched, by means of a machine, on to the ramparts where
the Saracens were fighting.
The combat had lasted half the day, without the Crusaders being able to
entertain any hope of penetrating into the place. All their machines
were on fire; they wanted water, but more particularly vinegar, which
alone had the power to extinguish the kind of fire launched at them by
the besieged. In vain the bravest exposed themselves to the greatest
dangers, to prevent the destruction of all the wooden machines and the
rams; they fell, buried under the ruins, and the raging flames devoured
even their bucklers and their vestments. Many of the most intrepid
warriors had found death at the foot of the ramparts; a great number of
those mounted on the towers had been placed _hors de combat_; others,
covered with sweat and dust, smothered with heat, and staggering under
the weight of their armour, began to lose courage. The Saracens, who
perceived this, uttered loud cries of joy. In their blasphemies, they
reproaching the Christians with adoring a God who was not able to help
them. The assailants deplored their lot, and, believing themselves
abandoned by Christ, remained motionless on the field of battle.
But the combat was about to change its character. All at once the
Crusaders beheld, on the Mount of Olives, a horseman, waving his
buckler, and giving the Christian army the signal to enter the city.
Godfrey and Raymond, who perceived him first, and at the same moment,
cried out that St. George was come to the succour of the Christians.
The tumult of the fight allowed of neither reflection nor examination,
and the sight of the celestial horseman fired the besiegers with fresh
ardour. They returned to the charge; even the women, the children, and
the sick crowded into the _mêlée_, bringing water, food, and arms, and
uniting their efforts with those of the soldiers to get the rolling
towers, the dread of the enemy, nearer to the walls. That of Godfrey
advanced, amidst a terrible discharge of stones, arrows, and Greek
fire, and let fall its drawbridge upon the wall. Fiery darts flew
at one and the same time against the machines of the besiegers, and
against the sacks of straw and hay, and the bales of wool which covered
the inner walls of the city. The wind kindled the fires, and drove
the flames full upon the Saracens, who, enveloped in fire and smoke,
recoiled at the aspect of the lances and swords of the Christians.
Godfrey, preceded by the two brothers Lethalde and Engelbert of
Tournay, and followed by Baldwin du Bourg, Eustache, Raimbaud, Créton,
Guicher, Bernard de St. Vallier, and Amenjeu d’Albret, broke through
the enemy, pursued them, and rushed with them into Jerusalem. The brave
men who had fought upon the platform of the tower with their intrepid
leader, followed them into the streets, and massacred all they met with
on their passage.
[Illustration: SIEGE OF JERUSALEM.--GODFREY OF BOUILLON.]
At the same time a report was spread in the Christian army, that the
holy pontiff Adhemar, and several Crusaders who had died during the
siege, had appeared at the head of the assailants, and unfurled the
banners of the Cross upon the towers of Jerusalem. Tancred and the
two Roberts, animated by this account, made fresh efforts, and threw
themselves into the place, accompanied by Hugh de St. Paul, Gerard
de Roussillon, Louis de Mousson, Conon and Lambert de Montargis, and
Gaston de Béarn. A crowd of heroes follow them closely; some enter
by a half-open breach, others scale the walls with ladders, many
spring from the wooden towers. The Mussulmans fly on all sides, and
Jerusalem resounds with the victory-cry of the Crusaders, _God wills
it! God wills it!_ The companions of Godfrey and Tancred hew down the
gate of St. Stephen with axes, and the city lies open to the crowd
of Crusaders, who press upon each other, and dispute the honour of
inflicting the last blow upon the infidels.
Raymond alone met with some resistance. Made aware of the victory of
the Christians by the cries of the Mussulmans, the clash of arms, and
the tumult from the interior of the city, he roused the courage of
his soldiers. These brave men, impatient to join their companions,
abandoned their tower and their machines, which they could no longer
move. They planted their ladders, and sticking their swords into the
walls as steps, they mounted to the ramparts; they were preceded by
the Count de Toulouse, Raymond Pelet, the Bishop of Bira, the Count de
Die, and William de Sabran. Nothing could now stop them; they dispersed
the Saracens, who, with their Emir, flew for refuge to the fortress of
David; and soon all the Crusaders in Jerusalem met together, embraced,
wept with joy, and gave all their attention to securing their victory.
In the mean time despair had for a moment rallied the bravest of the
Saracens; they fell with impetuosity upon the Christians, who were
advancing in disorder, bent upon pillage. The latter were beginning to
give way before the enemy they had conquered, when Evrard de Preysaie,
whose bravery Ralph of Caën has celebrated, revived the courage of his
companions, placed himself at their head, and once more carried terror
among the infidels. From that moment the Crusaders had no longer an
enemy to contend with.
History has remarked that the Christians entered Jerusalem on a
Friday, at three o’clock in the afternoon, which was the day and
the hour at which Christ expired for the salvation of mankind. This
memorable epoch ought to have recalled to their hearts a feeling of
mercy; but, irritated by the menaces and long insults of the Saracens,
exasperated by the various ills they had undergone during the siege,
and the resistance they had met with, even in the city, they filled
the Jerusalem they came to deliver, and which they considered as
their future country, with blood and mourning. The carnage was soon
general, such as escaped the swords of the soldiers of Godfrey and
Tancred, becoming the victims of the Provençals, equally thirsty for
blood. The Saracens were indiscriminately massacred in the streets
and in their houses; Jerusalem had no asylum for the vanquished; some
tried to escape death by precipitating themselves from the ramparts,
whilst others ran in crowds to seek refuge in the palaces, the towers,
and particularly in the mosques, but nowhere could they escape the
murderous pursuit of the Christians.
The Crusaders, masters of the Mosque of Omar, in which the Saracens had
defended themselves for a short time, repeated the scenes of carnage
which had followed and sullied the conquest of Titus. Foot and horse
entered the sacred structure _pêle-mêle_ with the vanquished. Amidst
the most horrible tumult the place re-echoes with cries and groans of
death; the conquerors trampled upon heaps of slain in pursuit of such
as endeavoured to escape. Raymond d’Agiles, an eye-witness, says that
beneath the portico and in the front court of the Temple the blood
ascended to the knees and the bridles of the horses. To paint this
terrible spectacle, which war presented twice in the same place, it
will suffice to say, in the words of Josephus, that the number of the
slain exceeded by far that of the soldiers who immolated them to their
vengeance, and that the echoes of the mountains neighbouring the Jordan
repeated the groans and cries that issued from the Temple.
The imagination turns with disgust from these horrible pictures, and
can scarcely, amid the carnage, contemplate the Christians of Jerusalem
whose chains the Crusaders had broken. They crowded from all parts to
meet the conquerors; they shared with them the provisions they had been
able to keep from the Saracens; and all together were thankful to the
God who had crowned the arms of the Christians with such a triumph. The
hermit Peter, who, five years before, had promised to arm the West for
the deliverance of the Christians of Jerusalem, must have experienced
inexpressible delight in witnessing their gratitude and joy. They
appeared to consider no one among the Crusaders but him; they recalled
his words and his promises; it was to him they addressed their songs of
praise; it was him they proclaimed their liberator; they related to him
all they had suffered during his absence; they could scarcely believe
that he stood before them; and, in their enthusiasm, they expressed
astonishment that God should have employed one man alone to rouse so
many nations and effect such prodigies.
The sight of the brethren they had delivered, no doubt, reminded the
pilgrims that they had come for the purpose of worshipping the tomb of
Jesus Christ. The pious Godfrey, who had abstained from slaughter as
soon as the victory was certain, quitted his companions, and, followed
by two attendants, repaired, without arms and barefoot, to the Church
of the Holy Sepulchre. The news of this purpose of devotion soon spread
through the Christian army, and immediately all fury, all vengeance,
were appeased; the Crusaders, stripping off their blood-stained
vestments, made Jerusalem resound with their sobs and groans, and, led
by the clergy, they marched in a body, barefoot and with uncovered
heads, towards the Church of the Resurrection.
When the Christian army was thus assembled upon Calvary, night began
to fall; silence reigned in the public places and upon the ramparts;
nothing was to be heard in the Holy City but canticles of penitence,
and the words of Isaiah, “_You who love Jerusalem, rejoice you with
her!_” The Crusaders evinced so much devotion that, according to the
remark of a modern historian, it might be thought that these men who
had just taken a city by assault, and committed a horrible carnage,
really came from a long retreat and a profound meditation upon
religious mysteries. These inexplicable contrasts are often remarked
in the history of the Crusades. Some writers have fancied they found
in them a pretext for an accusation against the Christian religion;
others, not less blind or less prejudiced, attempt to excuse the
deplorable excesses of fanaticism: the impartial historian is satisfied
with relating them, and sighs in silence over the weaknesses of human
nature.
Besides, this pious fervour was soon burnt out, and only suspended the
scenes of carnage for awhile; policy and cupidity soon led to fresh
horrors, and fanaticism most ably seconded them. All whom humanity or
lassitude of carnage had spared, or even some who had been saved in
the hopes of a rich ransom, were slaughtered. The Saracens were forced
to precipitate themselves from the tops of their houses; they perished
by thousands in the flames; they were dragged into the public places,
and immolated upon the heaps of slain which already encumbered them.
Neither the tears of women, the cries of infants, nor the aspect of
the Holy Places, where Christ had pardoned his executioners, had power
to soften the irritated conquerors. The carnage was so great, that
heaps of bodies were not only seen in the palaces, the temples, and
the streets, but were found in the most secluded and solitary places.
Such was the delirium of vengeance, cupidity, and fanaticism, that the
scenes did not disgust beholders who might be supposed to be impartial:
contemporary historians describe them without offering a word of
excuse, and throughout their recitals of revolting events, a single
expression of horror or pity does not escape them. We, however, cannot
pursue the frightful details further. The carnage lasted for a full
week, and the Oriental and Latin historians agree in stating that the
numbers of Mussulmans slain in Jerusalem amounted to more than seventy
thousand! The Jews experienced no more mercy than the Saracens: they
took refuge in their synagogue; the Crusaders set fire to the building,
and all perished in the flames.
Such was the ever-memorable capture of Jerusalem by the Crusaders. The
reflections it gives rise to are too numerous, too complicated, and
too interesting to be ventured upon in such a work as this; we must be
satisfied with having given principally, in the words of an elegant
historian, an account of the siege. We perceive the same weapons,
the same machines, the same natural objects of offence and defence,
that are to be found in other sieges. The terraces of Titus became
the rolling towers of the Middle Ages; but the ancient instruments,
the ram, catapultæ, and the cross-bow, were still in full force.
Although there was a body of English in the army, we hear nothing of
their national weapon, the long-bow. Jerusalem, from its situation,
was wanting in a moat or ditch; if it had had a broad one, it would
have very much increased the difficulties of the besiegers. Objects in
themselves apparently unconnected with the art of war, seem to have
been freely made use of; boiling oil, melted pitch, and huge beams were
had recourse to by the besieged. We likewise hear of the Greek fire,
but there are not so many miracles attached to its effects as in some
sieges. The Asiatics despised no natural means of defence that offered
themselves; in one of the minor sieges of the Crusades, they adopted a
very ingenious and effective mode of annoyance. The country round was
famous for the production of honey, and the citizens had vast apiaries.
When the ladders were planted, and the Crusaders commenced the assault,
the inhabitants brought all the bee-hives they could collect, and
precipitated them and their swarms of little armed warriors amidst the
assailing host. The effect may be more easily imagined than described.