Volume 1 / Book 4 — BOOK IV.

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A.D. 1099-1103.

More than six months had passed away since the taking of Antioch, and several of the leaders of the crusade still thought nothing of commencing their march to Jerusalem. As soon as Raymond gave the signal for departure, his soldiers, and the knights who accompanied him, broke into loud demonstrations of joy and a revived enthusiasm. The count of Thoulouse was followed by Tancred and the duke of Normandy, who were both impatient to accomplish their vow and conquer Palestine. Conducted by these three leaders, a great part of the Christian army traversed the territories of Cæsarea in Syria, Hamath, and Edessa. From all parts both Christians and Mussulmans came eagerly to meet them, the former to beg their assistance, the latter to implore their clemency. Many emirs came to conjure Raymond to plant his standard on their cities’ walls, to protect them from pillage, and render them safe from the enterprises of the other Crusaders. The pilgrims everywhere on their passage received provisions and rich tributes without the trouble and risk of fighting for them. In the course of their triumphant march, the sweetest fruit of their labours and the terror that their arms inspired was the return of a vast number of Christian prisoners, whose death they had mourned, who were sent to them from the neighbouring cities by the Mussulman chiefs.

They drew near to the sea-coast, and advanced, almost without obstacle, as far as the vicinity of Archas. This city was situated at the foot of Libanus, two leagues from the sea, in a territory covered with olive-trees, and rich with corn. The count of Thoulouse, either from a desire to conquer so rich a country, or from being provoked by the insults and threats of the infidels, resolved to besiege Archas.[142] In order to inflame the courage of his soldiers and associate them with him in his project, he promised them as a reward for their labours, the pillage of the city and the deliverance of two hundred Christian prisoners confined in the citadel.

In the mean time Godfrey, Eustace, and Robert, count of Flanders, had not yet set out from Antioch. They did not begin their march before the early days of spring. Bohemond accompanied them as far as Laodicea,[143] and then returned to his capital, after having promised his companions to rejoin them before Jerusalem. At Laodicea the Crusaders liberated the Flemish pirates who had taken the cross at Tarsus, and who, for more than a year, had been detained prisoners by the Greeks, the masters of that city. At the same place the Christian army received a reinforcement of new Crusaders from the ports of Holland and Flanders, and the British isles. Among these new defenders of the cross was Edgar Atheling, who, after the death of Harold, had disputed the crown of England with William the Conqueror. He came to endeavour to forget the misfortunes of his country under the banners of the holy war, and at the same time to seek a refuge from the tyranny of the conqueror. The English and the new Crusaders from other countries were received with great joy into the ranks of the Christian army, which, however, pursued its march towards Palestine very slowly.

It grieved the greater part of the leaders to be obliged to traverse such rich provinces without establishing their domination in them. There was not a city in their route upon the walls of which one of them had not a strong secret inclination to plant his standard. These pretensions gave birth to rivalries which weakened the army, and prevented it from making useful conquests. Raymond still obstinately prosecuted the siege of Archas, which opposed to him the firmest resistance. Godfrey went to lay siege to Gibel or Gibelet,[144] a maritime city, situated some leagues from Laodicea. The leaders of the army never consented to unite their efforts against the Saracens, but sold to the emirs, by turns, their inaction and their neutrality.

The only expedition in which success crowned their bravery was the attack of Tortosa.[145] Raymond, viscount de Turenne, the viscount de Castellane, the seigneur d’Albret, and some others of the principal leaders of the Gascons and Provençals, with a hundred horse and two hundred foot, presented themselves before this city. The inhabitants closed their gates, manned their ramparts, and forced the Christians to retreat. The leader of this expedition, Raymond de Turenne, who had not a sufficient number of troops to undertake a siege or force a city to surrender, had recourse to a stratagem, which succeeded. At night he caused to be lighted in a neighbouring wood such a number of fires, that the inhabitants of Tortosa were persuaded that the whole Christian army was come to attack them, and before the break of day they all fled to the mountains, taking with them their most valuable effects. On the morrow the Christians approached the city, the ramparts of which they found deserted, and entered it without resistance. After having pillaged the houses, and given up to the flames a city they could not keep, they returned to the camp loaded with booty.

The Mussulmans shut up in Archas still held out against the Christians. Although the army was encamped in a fertile country, they soon began to experience the want of provisions. The poorest of the pilgrims were reduced, as at Antioch, to feed upon roots, and dispute with animals the leaves of the trees and the grass of the fields. The numerous clergy which followed the army sunk into the deepest distress. Such as could fight went to ravage the surrounding country, and lived on pillage; but those whom age, sex, or infirmities would not permit to carry arms, had no hope but in the charity of the Christian soldiers. The army freely assisted them, and gave up to them the tenth part of the booty obtained from the infidels.

A great number of the Crusaders yielded to the fatigues of the siege, and perished with misery and disease, whilst many fell by the hands of the enemy, who defended themselves with obstinate valour. Among those whose loss was most regretted, history has preserved the name of Pons de Balasu; he was highly esteemed in the army for his intelligence, and up to his death had written the history of the crusade, in conjunction with Raymond d’Agiles. The Crusaders also gave their tears to the memory of Anselm de Ribemont, count de Bouchain, whose piety and courage are much praised in the chronicles of the times. Contemporary authors relate his death as attended with such wonderful circumstances as deserve to be preserved, because they afford a strong idea of the spirit which animated the Crusaders.

One day ’we follow the relation of Raymond d’Agiles) Anselm saw enter into his tent young Angelram, son of the count de St. Paul, who had been killed at the siege of Maarah.[146] “How is it,” said he, “that I see you still living whom I saw dead on the field of battle?” “Know,” replied Angelram, “that they who fight for Jesus Christ do not die.” “But whence comes that strange splendour with which I see you surrounded?” Then Angelram pointed out to him in the heavens a palace of crystal and diamonds. “It is thence,” he added, “that I derive the beauty which surprises you; that is my abode, and there is a much more beautiful one being prepared for you, which you will soon inhabit. Farewell; we shall meet again to-morrow.” At these words, adds the historian, Angelram returned to heaven. Anselm, struck with this apparition, the next morning sent for several ecclesiastics, and received the sacraments; and, although in full health, took leave of his friends, telling them he was about to quit the world in which they had known him. A few hours afterwards, the enemy having made a sortie, Anselm flew, sword in hand, to meet them, and was struck on the forehead by a stone, which, say the historians, sent him to the beautiful palace in heaven that was prepared for him. This marvellous recital, which was credited by the Crusaders, is not the only one of the kind that history has collected. It is useless to remind our readers that extreme misery always rendered the Crusaders more superstitious and credulous. Although the siege of Archas had no religious aim, and even turned the pilgrims aside from the principal object of the holy war, it was not thence less abundant, according to Raymond d’Agiles, in miracles and prodigies of all sorts. The belief of the people was frequently supported by the most enlightened of the leaders, who found it necessary to warm the imaginations of the soldiers to preserve their authority. Every day fresh parties were formed in the Christian army, and the most powerful were always those who circulated a belief in the greatest number of miracles. It was during the siege of Archas that doubts arose among the pilgrims about the discovery of the lance which had had such an effect upon the courage of the Crusaders at the battle of Antioch, and the camp of the besiegers became all at once divided into two great factions, strongly opposed to each other. Arnold de Rohés, according to William of Tyre, a man of dissolute manners, but well versed in history and letters, was the first who dared openly to deny the truth of the prodigy. This ecclesiastic, who was chaplain to the duke of Normandy, drew into his party all the Normans and the Crusaders from the north of France; whilst those of the south ranged themselves on the side of Barthélemi, who was attached to the count de St. Gilles. The priest of Marseilles, a simple man, who himself believed that which he wished others to believe, had a new revelation, and related in the camp that he had seen Jesus Christ attached to the cross, cursing the incredulous, and devoting to the death and punishment of Judas the impious sceptics who dared to search into the mysterious ways of God. This apparition, and the menaces of Christ, highly excited the imaginations of the Provençals, who had no less faith, according to Raymond d’Agiles, in the tales of Barthélemi, than in the evidence of the saints and apostles. But Arnold was astonished that God should only reveal himself to a simple priest, whilst so many virtuous prelates were in the army; and, without denying the intervention of the divine power, he was not willing to admit any other prodigies than those performed by the valour and heroism of the Christian soldiers.

As the produce of the offerings made to the depositaries of the holy lance were distributed to the poor, the latter, who were in vast numbers in the army, were not sparing in murmurs against the chaplain of the duke of Normandy, and they attributed to his incredulity, and that of his partisans, all the evils that the Crusaders had suffered during the siege of Archas. Arnold and his party, which increased every day, on the contrary attributed the misfortunes of the Christians to their divisions, and to the turbulent spirit of a set of visionaries. Amongst these debates the Crusaders of the northern provinces reproached those of the south with want of bravery in fight, with being less anxious for glory than pillage, and with passing their time in ornamenting their horses and mules.[147] The latter, on their side, did not cease to reproach the partisans of Arnold with their want of faith, and their sacrilegious railleries, and, without ceasing, opposed new visions to the reasonings of the incredulous. One had seen St. Mark the evangelist, another the holy Virgin, and both had attested the veracity of the priest of Marseilles. Bishop Adhemar had appeared to a third, informing him that he had been kept several days in hell for having entertained some doubts of the truth of the holy lance.

These recitals only served still more to inflame the minds of the army, and violence often came to the support of trickery and credulity. At length Barthélemi, seduced by the importance of the part he was made to play, and perhaps, also, by the miraculous tales of his partisans, which might strengthen his own illusions, resolved to terminate all debates by submitting to the ordeal by fire. This resolution restored calm to the Christian army, and all the pilgrims were convoked to be witnesses of the judgment of God. On the day fixed ’it was Good Friday), a funeral pile, made of branches of olive, was erected in the middle of a vast plain. Most of the Crusaders were assembled, and everything was prepared for the terrible ordeal. The flames had already mounted to a height of twenty cubits, when Barthélemi was seen advancing, accompanied by the priests, who walked in silence, barefooted, and clothed in their sacerdotal habits. Covered by a simple tunic, the priest of Marseilles bore the holy lance, surrounded with floating streamers. When he arrived within a few paces of the pile, one of the principal of the clergy pronounced in a loud voice the following words: “If this man has seen Jesus Christ face to face, and if the apostle Andrew did reveal the divine lance to him, may he pass safe and sound through the flames; but if, on the contrary, he is guilty of falsehood, may he be burnt, together with the lance which he bears in his hands.” At these words all the spectators bowed, and answered as with one voice, “Be the will of God accomplished.” Barthélemi threw himself on his knees, took Heaven to witness the truth of all that he had said, and, after recommending himself to the prayers of the bishops and priests, rushed through the funeral pile at a part where an opening of two feet wide had been made for his passage.

The numerous spectators lost sight of him for a moment, and many pilgrims, says Raymond d’Agiles, were beginning to lament him, when they saw him appear on the side opposite to that by which he had entered. He was immediately surrounded and pressed upon by an innumerable crowd, who cried out “miracle,” and were eager to touch his vestments. But Barthélemi was covered with mortal wounds. He was carried in a dying state to the tent of the count of Thoulouse, where he expired a few days after, still protesting his innocence and veracity. He was buried beneath the spot where the funeral pile had been erected. Raymond of St. Gilles and the Provençals persisted in regarding him as an apostle and a martyr. The greater number of the pilgrims allowed themselves to be satisfied with the judgment of God,[148] and the miraculous lance from that time ceased to work miracles.[149] In vain the Crusaders from the southern provinces endeavoured to substitute for it the ring and cross of of Adhemar; they attracted neither the devotion nor the offerings of the pilgrims.

Whilst the Crusaders were detained before the fortress of Archas, they received an embassy from Alexius. The Greek emperor wished to impose upon the Latins, by promising to follow them into Palestine with an army, if they would allow him time to make the necessary preparations. Alexius in his letters complained of the non-performance of the treaties by which he was to be made master of the cities of Syria and Asia Minor that had fallen into the hands of the Christians; but he complained without bitterness, and showed so much circumspection in his reproaches as proved that he likewise had some wrongs to repair. This embassy was but ill received in the Christian army. The leaders accused the Greeks of the death of the count of Hainault, and reproached the emperor with his shameful flight during the siege of Antioch. They despised his complaints, and gave no faith to his so often broken promises.

The Latins hated Alexius ever since the siege of Nice. Hatred guided them on this occasion better than the most clear-sighted policy could have done; for in the end, if we are to believe their historians, they learned that the emperor of Constantinople maintained a secret understanding with the caliph of Egypt, and that his design was to retard the march and the progress of the Christian army.

The caliph of Cairo, who was governed by the same policy as Alexius, kept up relations with the Crusaders which circumstances rendered more or less sincere, and which were subordinate to the fear which their arms inspired. Although he negotiated at the same time with the Christians and the Turks, he hated the former because they were the enemies of the prophet, and the latter because they had deprived him of Syria. His object was but to profit by the war, so as to regain his possessions and extend the limits of his empire. For several months he had been master of Jerusalem, and as he trembled for his new conquest, he sent ambassadors to the Christian army. This embassy arrived in the camp a short time after the departure of the deputies of Alexius.

It was accompanied by the deputies whom the Christians had sent into Egypt during the siege of Antioch. On their arrival at Cairo they had at first been well received by the caliph; but as soon as he learned that the Christian army was in a desperate situation, they were thrown into dungeons, and only owed their liberation to the triumphant march of the Christian army, which filled the East with the fame of its victories. Their unexpected return gave the greatest delight to their brothers and companions. They listened with emotion to the account of their captivity, and loud cries of indignation arose throughout the army against the caliph of Cairo.

The Egyptian ambassadors did all in their power to justify their master and appease the anger of the Christians. They had brought with them magnificent presents, destined by the caliph for the principal leaders of the army. They were to present to Godfrey of Bouillon forty thousand pieces of gold, thirty mantles, and several vases of gold and silver; to Bohemond they were to offer sixty thousand pieces of gold, fifty purple mantles, several precious vases, rich carpets, and an Arabian horse whose harness was covered with plates of gold. Each leader was to receive a present proportioned to his military reputation, and to the idea that was entertained of his importance in the Christian army. When the ambassadors had distributed the presents of the caliph according to his instructions, they demanded permission to speak in the council of the leaders. They announced that their master had delivered Jerusalem from the domination of the Turks, and that he anxiously desired to maintain peace with the Christians. After having declared the benevolent and friendly dispositions of the caliph, and after having repeated that it was his intention to protect pilgrimages and the exercise of the Christian religion, they finished by declaring that the gates of Jerusalem should only be opened to unarmed Christians. Upon hearing this proposition, which they had already rejected amidst the miseries of the siege of Antioch, the leaders of the Christian army could not restrain their indignation. As their only answer, they came to the resolution to hasten their march towards the Holy Land, and threatened the ambassadors of Egypt to carry their arms even to the banks of the Nile.

The Crusaders were drawing together their troops, which had so long been dispersed, to march together towards Jerusalem, when they were attacked by the emir of Tripoli. A prompt and bloody defeat was the reward of the temerity of the Mussulman prince. After having lost a great number of his soldiers, he was obliged to purchase peace and the safety of his capital by the payment of a considerable tribute to the Crusaders. He furnished them with provisions in abundance, sent back three hundred Christian prisoners to the camp, and, to leave no pretext for future hostilities, he engaged to surrender the places he possessed when their standards should float over the walls of Jerusalem.

The Crusaders, satisfied with this promise extracted from fear, had no more enemies to combat, and now only thought of that one conquest which was to assure them all others. Raymond alone did not partake of the new ardour of the Christian army; he was fixed in his determination to remain before Archas, and only gave up the siege when his soldiers had a second time threatened to abandon his colours.

The Crusaders commenced their march towards Palestine at the end of the month of May.[150] The inhabitants of Phœnicia had finished their harvest. The Christians found provisions everywhere, and admired on their passage the rich productions of Asia, which they already looked upon as the reward of their labours. On their left rose the mountains of Libanus, so often celebrated by the prophets; between the mountains and the sea, the fields they traversed were covered with olive-trees, which grew to the height of elms and oaks; in the plains and on the hills were oranges, pomegranates, and many other sorts of trees unknown in the West. Among these new productions one plant, the juice of which was sweeter than honey, above all attracted the attention of the pilgrims: this plant was the sugar-cane. It was cultivated in several of the provinces of Syria, and particularly in the territory of Tripoli, where they had found means of extracting from it the substance which the inhabitants called zucra[151] According to Albert d’Aix, this plant had afforded great assistance to the Christians when assailed by famine at the sieges of Maarah and Archas. This plant, now become of such importance in commerce, had been till this time unknown in the West. The pilgrims made it known in Europe, and towards the end of the crusades it was transported into Italy and Sicily, whilst the Saracens introduced it into the kingdom of Grenada, whence the Spaniards afterwards conveyed it to Madeira and the American colonies.[152]

When the pilgrims were all united to continue their march to Palestine, they must doubtless have been struck with terror as they contemplated the losses they had experienced. More than two hundred thousand Crusaders had been cut off by battles, famine, misery, and disease. A great number of them, unable to support the fatigues of the holy pilgrimage, and losing all hope of seeing Palestine, had returned to the West. Many had taken up their abode in Antioch, Edessa, and other cities from which they had driven the inhabitants, and which they were obliged to defend against the infidels. With all these deductions, the army which was to achieve the conquest of the Holy Land scarcely numbered fifty thousand fighting men under the banners.

The leaders, however, did not hesitate to pursue their enterprise. They who did remain in the ranks had borne every trial; they did not drag in their train a useless, embarrassing multitude; and it was much more easy to supply them with provisions and establish order and discipline amongst them. Strengthened in some sort by their losses, they were perhaps more formidable than they were at the siege of Nice. The remembrance of their exploits increased their confidence and courage, and the terror which their arms inspired might well make the Saracens believe that their army was still innumerable.

Most of the princes whom the war had ruined were in the pay of the count of Thoulouse. This species of degradation was doubtless painful to their pride; but as they approached the holy city it might be said that they lost some of their indomitable arrogance, and that they forgot both their pretensions and their quarrels. The most perfect union now prevailed among the Crusaders. In their impatience to see Jerusalem, neither mountains, defiles, rivers, nor any other impediments at all damped their ardour; the soldiers would not even consent to take repose, and often, contrary to the wishes of their leaders, marched during the night.

The Christian army followed the coasts of the sea, where they might be provisioned by the Pisan, Genoese, and Flemish fleets. A crowd of Christians and pious solitaries who inhabited the neighbouring mountains, hastened to meet their brethren of the West, brought them fresh provisions, and guided them on their way. After a painful march over rocks and along the declivities of precipices, they descended into the plain of Berytus, and traversed the territory of Sidon and Tyre.

Whilst they remained three days on the banks of the river Eleuctera, they were assailed by serpents called tarenta, whose bite produced death, attended by violent pain and unquenchable thirst. The sight of these reptiles, which they attempted to frighten away by striking stones one against another, or by the clashing of their bucklers, filled the pilgrims with fear and surprise; but that which must have much more astonished them was the strange remedy for their bite which the inhabitants pointed out to them, and which without doubt must have seemed to them far more a subject of scandal than a means of cure.[153]

The Christians, having still continued to march along the coast, arrived before the walls of Accon, the ancient Ptolemaïs, at the present day St. Jean d’Acre. The emir who commanded in this city for the caliph of Egypt sent them provisions, and promised to surrender as soon as they should become masters of Jerusalem. The Crusaders, who had no idea of attacking Ptolemaïs, received with joy the submission and promises of the Egyptian emir; but chance soon made them aware that he had no other intention but that of getting them out of his territories, and raising up enemies against them in the countries they were about to pass through. The Christian army, after having quitted the country of Ptolemaïs, had advanced between the sea and Mount Carmel, and were encamped near the port of Cæsarea, when a dove, which had escaped from the talons of a bird of prey, fell lifeless among the soldiers. The bishop of Apt, who chanced to pick up this bird, found under its wing a letter written by the emir of Ptolemaïs to the emir of Cæsarea. “The cursed race of the Christians,” wrote the emir, “have just passed through my territories, and will soon cross yours; let the chiefs of all the Mussulman cities be warned of their march, and let them take measures to crush our enemies.” This letter was read in the council of the princes, and before all the army. The Crusaders, according to the account of Raymond d’Agiles, an eye-witness, broke out into loud expressions of surprise and joy, no longer doubting that God protected their enterprise, since he sent the birds of heaven to reveal to them the secrets of the infidels. Filled with new enthusiasm, they continued their route, drawing away from the sea, and leaving Antipatride and Jaffa on their right. They saluted in the east the heights of Ephraim, and took possession of Lydda ’the ancient Diospolis), celebrated by the martyrdom of St. George, and of Ramla, famous for the birth and tomb of Samuel.

When arrived at this last-named city, the Christians had only a march of sixteen miles to be before Jerusalem. The leaders held a council, in which some of them proposed to go and attack the infidels in Egypt, instead of undertaking the siege of the holy city.[154] “When,” said they, “we shall have conquered the sultan of Egypt, the cities of Alexandria and Cairo, with Palestine and most of the kingdoms of the East, will fall under our power. If we go straight to Jerusalem, we shall want both water and provisions, and we shall be obliged to raise the siege, without having the power to undertake anything else.” Such of the leaders as did not agree with this opinion, answered, “That the Christian army amounted to no more than fifty thousand combatants, and that it would be madness to begin a march to distant, and, to them, unknown regions, and where they could look for no assistance. On all sides they must expect dangers and obstacles; nowhere should they be free from the dread of want of provisions; but the route to Jerusalem was much more easy than that to Alexandria or Cairo. The Crusaders could pursue no wiser plan than to continue their march, and prosecute the enterprise they had begun, leaving it to Providence to provide for their wants, and protect them from thirst and famine.”

This latter opinion was adopted, and the army received the signal for departure. The cities which lay in the route of the Crusaders were all abandoned by the infidels. The greater part of the pilgrims endeavoured to get in advance of each other, that they might be the first to obtain possession of the places and castles that were thus left without inhabitants. The Crusaders, says Raymond d’Agiles, had agreed among themselves, that when one of the leaders had planted his standard upon a city, or had placed any mark whatever on the door of a house, he should become the legitimate possessor of it. This imprudent agreement had given birth to ambition and covetousness in the soldiers as well as the barons. Many, in the hope of obtaining rich possessions, abandoned their colours, wandered about the country, and spread themselves even as far as the banks of the Jordan. In the mean time, those to whom, according to the expression of the historians, nothing was more dear than the commandments of God, advanced, barefooted, under the standard of the cross, lamenting the error of their brethren. When they arrived at Emmaus, a considerable city in the times of the Maccabees, and which was then no more than a large village, known under the name of Nicopolis, some Christians of Bethlehem came to implore their assistance. Touched with their prayers, Tancred set out in the middle of the night with a detachment of three hundred men, and planted the flag of the Crusaders upon the walls of the city, at the same hour in which Christ was born and was announced to the shepherds of Judea.

During this same night a phenomenon appeared in the heaven, which powerfully affected the imagination of the pilgrims. An eclipse of the moon produced all at once the most profound darkness, and when she at length re-appeared she was covered with a blood-red veil. Many of the Crusaders were seized with terror at this spectacle; but those who were acquainted with the march and movements of the stars, says Albert d’Aix, reassured their companions by telling them that the sight of such a phenomenon announced the triumph of the Christians and the destruction of the infidels.

By the break of day, on the 10th of June, 1099, the Crusaders ascended the heights of Emmaus. All at once the holy city presented itself to their eyes.[155] The first who perceived it exclaimed together, “Jerusalem! Jerusalem!” The rear ranks rushed forward to behold the city that was the object of all their wishes, and the words, “It is the will of God! It is the will of God!” were shouted by the whole army, and resounded over Mount Sion and the Mount of Olives, which offered themselves to the eager gaze of the Crusaders. The horsemen dismounted from their horses, and marched barefooted. Some cast themselves upon their knees at beholding the holy places, whilst others kissed with respect the earth honoured by the presence of the Saviour. In their transports they passed by turns from joy to sadness, and from sadness to joy. At one moment they felicitated themselves with touching the last term of their labours; and then wept over their sins, over the death of Christ, and over his profaned tomb; but all renewed the oath they had so often made to deliver the holy city from the sacrilegious yoke of the Mussulmans.

History furnishes very few positive notions of the foundation and origin of Jerusalem. The common opinion is, that Melchisedec, who is called king of Salem in Scripture, made his residence there. It was afterwards the capital of the Jebusees, which procured it the name of the city of Jebus. It is probable that from the name of Jebus and that of Salem, which signifies vision, or abode of peace, was formed the name of Jerusalem,[156] which it bore under the kings of Judah.

From the highest antiquity Jerusalem yielded in magnificence to none of the cities of Asia. Jeremiah names it admirable city, on account of its beauty; and David calls it the most glorious and most illustrious city of the East. From the nature of its entirely religious legislation, it always showed an invincible attachment for its laws; but it was often a prey to the fanaticism of its enemies as well as that of its own citizens. Its founders, says Tacitus, having foreseen that the opposition of their manners to those of other nations would be a source of war, had given their attention to its fortifications, and in the early times of the Roman empire it was one of the strongest places in Asia. After having undergone a great many revolutions, it was at length completely destroyed by Titus, and in accordance with the denunciations of the prophets, presented no more than a horrible confusion of stones. The emperor Adrian afterwards destroyed even its ruins, and caused another city to be built, giving it the name of Aëlia, so that there should remain nothing of the ancient Jerusalem. The Christians, but more particularly the Jews, were banished from it. Paganism there exalted its idols, and Jupiter and Venus had altars upon the tomb of Jesus Christ. In the midst of so many profanations and vicissitudes, the people of the East and the West scarcely preserved the memory of the city of David, when Constantine restored it its name, recalled the faithful, and made it a Christian city. Conquered afterwards by the Persians, and retaken by the Greeks, it had fallen a bloody prey into the hands of the Mussulmans, who disputed the possession of it, and subjected it by turns to the double scourge of persecution and war.[157]

At the time of the crusades, Jerusalem formed, as it does at present, a square, rather longer than wide, of about a league in circumference. It extends over four hills; on the east the Moriah, upon which the mosque of Omar was 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 to be the centre of the world, and upon which was built the church of the Resurrection. In the state in which Jerusalem then was it had lost much of its strength and extent. Mount Sion no longer arose within its enclosure and dominated over its walls between the south and west. The three valleys which surrounded the ramparts had been in many places filled up by Adrian, and the access to the place was much less difficult, particularly on the northern side. Nevertheless, as Jerusalem under the Saracens had had to sustain several sieges, and as it was at all times exposed to fresh attacks, its fortifications had not been neglected. The Egyptians, who had had possession of it for several months, took advantage of the tardiness of the Christian army to put it in a state of defence.

Whilst the Crusaders were advancing slowly towards the city, the lieutenant of the caliph, Iftikhar-Eddaulah, ravaged the neighbouring plains, burnt the villages, filled up or poisoned the cisterns, and surrounded himself with a desert in which the Christians must find themselves a prey to all kinds of misery. He caused provisions for a long siege to be transported into the place; he called upon all Mussulmans to come to the defence of Jerusalem, and employed a great number of workmen, day and night, to construct machines of war, to raise the walls, and repair the towers. The garrison of the city amounted to forty thousand men, and twenty thousand of the inhabitants took up arms.

At the approach of the Christians, some detachments of infidels had come out from Jerusalem to observe the march and proceedings of the enemy, but were repulsed by Baldwin du Bourg and Tancred. The latter had hastened from Bethlehem, of which he had taken possession. After having pursued the fugitives up to the gates of the holy city, he left his companions and repaired alone to the Mount of Olives, from whence he contemplated at leisure the city promised to the arms and devotion of the pilgrims.[158] He was disturbed in his pious contemplations by five Mussulmans who came from the city, and finding him alone attacked him.[159] Tancred made no effort to avoid the combat; three of the Saracens fell beneath his arm, whilst the other two took to flight. Without either hastening or retarding his speed, Tancred rejoined the army, which, in its enthusiasm, was advancing without order, and descended the heights of Emmaus,[160] singing these words from Isaiah, “Jerusalem, lift up thine eyes, and behold the liberator who comes to break thy chains.”

On the day after their arrival the Crusaders employed themselves in regularly laying siege to the place. The duke of Normandy, the count of Flanders, and Tancred encamped towards the north, from the gate of Herod to the gate of Cedar or of St. Stephen. Near to the Flemings, the Normans, and the Italians, were placed the English, commanded by Edgar Atheling, and the Bretons, conducted by their duke, Alain Fergent, the sire de Chateau-Giron, and the viscount de Dinan. Godfrey, Eustace, and Baldwin du Bourg established their quarters between the west and the north, around the enclosure of Calvary, from the gate of Damascus to the gate of Jaffa. The count of Thoulouse placed his camp to the right of Godfrey between the south and the west; he had near to him Raimbaud of Orange, William of Montpellier, and Gaston of Béarn. His troops at first extended to the declivity of Sion, and a few days afterwards he pitched his tents upon the very summit of the mountain, at the place where Christ celebrated Easter. 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 Jehoshaphat.[161]

Every step that the pilgrims took around Jerusalem brought to their minds some remembrance dear to their religion. In this territory, so revered by the Christians, there was not a valley, not a rock which had not a name in sacred history. All that they saw awakened or warmed their enthusiasm. They could not withdraw their eyes from the holy city, or cease to lament over the state of debasement into which it had fallen. This city, once so superb, looked as if buried in its own ruins, and they then might, to employ the expression of Josephus, have asked in Jerusalem itself where was Jerusalem? With its square houses without windows, surmounted by flat terraces, it appeared to the Crusaders like an enormous mass of stones heaped up between rocks. They could only perceive here and there in its bosom a few cypresses and some clumps of aloes and terebinthi, among which arose steeples in the quarter of the Christians, and mosques in that of the infidels. In the valleys and the fields adjacent to the city, which ancient traditions describe as covered with gardens and groves, there struggled into growth a few scattered olives and thorny shrubs. The sight of these sterile plains, and of the mountains burnt up by an ardent sun, offered to the pilgrims nothing but images of mourning, and mingled a melancholy sadness with their religious sentiments. They seemed to hear the voices of the prophets which had announced the servitude and the misfortunes of the city of God, and, in the excess of their devotion, they thought themselves called upon to restore it to its ancient greatness and splendour.

That which still further inflamed the zeal of the Crusaders for the deliverance of the holy city, was the arrival amongst them of a great number of Christians who had come out of Jerusalem, and being deprived of their property and driven from their homes, had sought assistance and an asylum among their brethren from the West. These Christians described the miseries which the Mussulmans had inflicted upon all the worshippers of Christ. The women, children, and old men were detained as hostages, whilst such as were of an age to bear arms were condemned to labours which surpassed their strength. The head of the principal hospital for pilgrims had, with a great many other Christians, been cast into prison, and the churches had been pillaged to furnish support for the Mussulman soldiers. The patriarch Simeon was gone to the isle of Cyprus to implore the charity of the faithful, and save his flock, which was menaced with destruction if he did not pay the enormous tribute imposed by the oppressors of the holy city. Every day new outrages were heaped upon the Christians of Jerusalem, and several times the infidels had formed the project of giving up to the flames and utterly destroying both the Holy Sepulchre and the church of the Resurrection.

The Christian fugitives, whilst making these melancholy recitals to the pilgrims, exhorted them to hasten their attack upon Jerusalem. In the very first days of the siege, a solitary, who had fixed his retreat on the Mount of Olives, came to join his prayers with those of the Christians driven from Jerusalem, and conjured the Crusaders, in the name of Christ, whose interpreter he declared himself, at once to proceed to a general assault. Although destitute of either ladders or machines of war, the Crusaders yielded to the counsels of the pious hermit, believing that their courage and their swords were sufficient to destroy the ramparts of the Saracens. The leaders, who had seen so many prodigies performed by the valour and enthusiasm of the Christian soldiers, and who had not forgotten the lengthened miseries of the siege of Antioch, yielded without difficulty to the impatience of the army; besides, the sight of Jerusalem had exalted the minds of the Crusaders, and disposed even the least credulous to hope that God himself would second their bravery by miracles.

At the first signal, the Christian army advanced in good order towards the ramparts. Never, say the historians, did the soldiers of the cross evince so much ardour; some, joined in close battalions, covered themselves with their bucklers, which formed an impenetrable vault over their heads, and endeavoured with pikes and hammers to destroy the wall; whilst others, ranged in long files, remained at some distance, and plied their slings and cross-bows in driving the enemy from the ramparts. Oil, boiling pitch, large stones, and enormous beams were cast upon the front ranks of the Christians without putting the least stop to their labours. The outer wall began to fall beneath their strokes, but the inner wall presented an insuperable obstacle, and nothing was left to them but escalade. This bold method was attempted, although only one ladder long enough to reach the top of the walls could be found. The bravest mounted, and fought hand to hand with the Saracens, who were confounded with such rash courage. It is probable that the Crusaders would have entered Jerusalem that very day if they had had the necessary instruments and machines; but so small a number of them could gain the top of the walls, that they could not maintain themselves there. Bravery was useless; Heaven did not perform the miracles which the solitary had promised, and the Saracens at length forced the assailants to retreat.

The Christians returned to their camp deploring their imprudence and credulity. This first reverse taught them that they must not always expect prodigies, and that before they proceeded further they must construct machines of war. But it was very difficult to procure the necessary wood in a country of barren sands and arid rocks. Several detachments were sent to search for materials; and chance discovered to one of them some large beams, which Tancred caused to be transported to the camp. They demolished the houses, and even the churches in the vicinity of the city which had not been given up to the flames, and every available bit of wood that had escaped the ravages of the Saracens was employed in the construction of machines.

In spite of their discoveries and exertions, the progress of the siege did not answer to the impatience of the Crusaders, nor did they appear likely to be able to avert the evils that threatened them. The most intense heats of the summer set in at the very time the pilgrims arrived before Jerusalem. A scorching sun and southern winds, loaded with the sands of the desert, inflamed the horizon. Plants and animals perished; the torrent of Kedron was dry, and all the cisterns had been filled up or poisoned.[162] Under a sun of fire, and amidst burning and arid plains, the Christian army soon became a prey to all the horrors of thirst.

The fountain of Siloë, which only flowed at intervals, could not suffice for such a multitude. A skinful of fetid water, brought from a distance of three leagues, cost as much as three silver deniers. Overcome by thirst and heat, the soldiers turned up the soil with their swords, and burying themselves in the freshly-moved earth, eagerly carried to their lips every moist clod that presented itself. During the day they looked anxiously for the night, and at night longed for the break of day, in the constantly disappointed hope that the return of either the one or the other would bring some little freshness, or a few drops of rain. Every morning they were seen to glue their parched lips to the marbles covered with dew. During the heat of the day the most robust languished beneath their tents, seeming not to have even strength left to implore the assistance of Heaven.

The knights and barons were not at all exempt from the scourge which devoured the army, and many of them exchanged for the water of which they stood in daily need, the treasures they had won from the infidels. “Pity, on account of this extreme thirst,” says the old translator of William of Tyre, “was not so much due to the foot-soldiers as the horsemen; the foot-soldiers could be contented with a little, but the horsemen could only supply their horses with drink at great expense. As to the beasts of burthen,” adds the same historian, “there was no more account taken of them than of things already dead; they were allowed to stray away in the fields, where they died for want of water.”

In this general misery the women and children dragged their exhausted bodies across fields and plains, seeking sometimes a spring and sometimes shade, neither of which existed. Many who strayed from the army fell into the ambushes of the Saracens, and lost either their lives or their liberty. When some fortunate pilgrims discovered a spring or a cistern in a remote or obscure place, they concealed it from their companions, and prevented their approach to it. Quarrels of a violent nature broke out on this account daily; and not unfrequently the Crusaders drew their swords for the sake of a little muddy water; in short, the want of water was so insupportable an evil, that they hardly noticed the scarcity of food. The intensity of thirst and the heat of the climate made them forget the horrors of the famine which seemed to pursue the Christians everywhere.

If the besieged had at this period made a sortie, they would have easily triumphed over the Crusaders, but the latter were defended by the remembrance of their exploits; and in the distress to which they were now reduced, their name alone still inspired the Saracens with dread. The Mussulmans likewise might entertain the belief that their enemies could not long resist the joint calamities of famine and thirst. The old historians here employ the most pathetic expressions to paint the frightful misery of the pilgrims. Abbot Guibert even goes so far as to say that men never suffered so many evils to obtain benefits which were not of this earth. Amidst such calamities, says Raymond d’Agiles, who was himself at the siege of Jerusalem, many forgot their God, and thought no longer of either gaining the city, or obtaining the divine mercy. The remembrance of their own country increased their sufferings; and so great was their discouragement, that some deserted the standards of the crusade entirely, and fled to the ports of Palestine and Syria to wait for an opportunity of returning to Europe.

The leaders clearly saw there was no other remedy for the evils the army endured but the taking of Jerusalem; and yet the labours of the siege went on very slowly, for they had neither wood enough for the construction of machines, nor workmen with necessary implements. In addition, a report was current that a formidable army had left Egypt for the purpose of relieving the city. The wisest and the bravest were beginning, in such a critical situation, to despair of the success of the enterprise, when assistance was afforded them of an unexpected kind.

They learned that a Genoese fleet had entered the port of Jaffa, laden with provisions and ammunition of all sorts. This news spread the greatest joy through the Christian army, and a body of three hundred men, commanded by Raymond Pelet, set out from the camp to meet the convoy, which Heaven appeared to have sent the Crusaders in their misery. This detachment, after having beaten and dispersed the Saracens they met on their passage, entered the city of Jaffa, which, being abandoned by its inhabitants, was occupied by the Genoese. On their arrival, the Crusaders learnt that the Christian fleet had been surprised and burnt by that of the infidels, but they had had time to get out the provisions and a great quantity of instruments for the construction of machines of war. All they had been able to save was transported to the camp of the Christians. This convoy arrived under the walls of Jerusalem, followed by a great number of Genoese engineers and carpenters, whose presence greatly revived the emulation and courage of the army.

As they still had not sufficient wood for the construction of the machines, a Syrian conducted the duke of Normandy and the count of Flanders to a mountain situated at a distance of thirty miles from Jerusalem, between the Valley of Samaria and the Valley of Sechem. There the Christians found the forest of which Tasso speaks in the “Jerusalem Delivered.”[163] The trees of this forest were neither protected from the axe of the Crusaders by the enchantments of Ismen nor the arms of the Saracens. Oxen shod with iron transported them in triumph before Jerusalem.

None of the leaders, except Raymond of Thoulouse, had sufficient money to pay for the labours they had commanded, but the zeal and charity of the pilgrims came to their assistance. Many offered the remains of the spoil taken from the enemy; the knights and barons themselves became laborious workmen; and every arm was employed, and everything in motion throughout the army. The women, the children, even the sick, shared the toils of the soldiers. Whilst the more robust were engaged in the construction of rams, catapultas, and covered galleries, others fetched water in skins from the fountain of Elpira, on the road to Damascus, or from a rivulet which flowed beyond Bethlehem, towards the desert of St. John. Some prepared the skins that were to be stretched over the machines to render them fire-proof, whilst others traversed the plains and neighbouring mountains to collect branches of the olive, the fig,[164] and some other trees of the country, to make hurdles and faggots.

Although the Christians had still much to suffer from thirst and the heat of the climate, the hope of soon seeing the end of their troubles gave them strength to support them. The preparations for the attack were pressed on with incredible activity; every day formidable machines appeared, threatening the ramparts of the Saracens. The construction of them was directed by Gaston of Béarn, of whose skill and bravery historians make great boast.[165] Among these machines were three enormous towers of a new structure, each of which had three stages, the first for the workmen who directed the movements of it, and the second and third for the warriors who were to make the assault. These three rolling fortresses were higher than the walls of the besieged city.[166] At the top was fixed a kind of drawbridge, which could be let down on the ramparts, and present a road by which to penetrate 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 so many prodigies was again to augment their ardour and confidence in victory. The clergy spread themselves through all the quarters of the army, exhorting the pilgrims to penitence and concord. Misery, which almost always engenders complaints and murmurs, had soured their hearts, and produced division among the leaders and the soldiers, who at other times had disputed for cities and treasures, but for whom then the most common things had become objects of jealousy and quarrels. The solitary from the Mount of Olives added his exhortations to those of the clergy, and addressing himself to the princes and people: “You who are come,” said he, “from the regions of the West to worship the God of armies, love one another as brothers, 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 march round Jerusalem, invoking the mercy and protection of Heaven.

The pilgrims, persuaded that the gates of the city were not less likely to be opened by devotion than bravery, listened with docility to the exhortations of the solitary, and were all eager to follow his counsel, which they regarded as the language of God himself. After a rigorous fast of three days, they issued from their quarters armed, and marched barefooted and bareheaded around the walls of the holy city. They were preceded by their priests clothed in white, carrying images of the saints, and singing psalms and holy songs. The ensigns were displayed, and the cymbals and trumpets sounded afar. It was thus that the Hebrews had formerly marched round Jericho, whose walls had crumbled away at the sound of their instruments.

The Crusaders set out from the Valley of Rephraim, which faces Calvary; they advanced towards the north, and saluted, on entering into the Valley of Jehoshaphat, the tombs of Mary, St. Stephen, and the first elect of God. On continuing their march towards the Mount of Olives, they contemplated with much respect the grotto in which Christ sweated blood, and the spot where the Saviour wept over Jerusalem. When they arrived at the summit of the mountain, the most imposing spectacle presented itself to their eyes. Towards the east were the plains of Jericho, the shores of the Dead Sea and the Jordan; and to the west they saw at their feet the holy city and its territory, covered with sacred ruins. Assembled on the very spot whence Christ ascended into heaven, and where they still sought for the vestiges of his steps, they listened to the exhortations of the priests and bishops.

Arnold de Rohés, chaplain to the duke of Normandy, addressed them in a pathetic discourse, conjuring them to redouble their zeal and perseverance. When terminating his discourse, he turned towards Jerusalem: “You see,” said he to them, “the heritage of Christ trampled underfoot by the impious; here is, at last, the worthy reward of all your labours; here are the places in which God will pardon all your sins, and will bless all your victories.” At the voice of the orator, who pointed out to them the church of the Resurrection and the rocks of Calvary, ready to receive them, the defenders of the cross humbled themselves before God, and kept their eyes fixed upon Jerusalem.

As Arnold exhorted them, in the name of Christ, to forget all injuries, and to love one another, Tancred and Raymond, who had had long and serious disputes, embraced each other in the presence of the whole Christian army. The soldiers and leaders followed their example. The most rich promised to comfort the poor by their alms, and to support the orphans of the bearers of the cross. All forgot their fatal discords, and swore to remain faithful to the precepts of evangelical charity.

Whilst the Crusaders were thus giving themselves up to transports of devotion and piety, the Saracens assembled on the ramparts of Jerusalem, raised crosses high in the air, and treated them with all kinds of outrages, at the same time insulting the ceremonies of the Christians by their gestures and their clamours.[167] “You hear them,” said Peter the Hermit; “you hear the menaces and the blasphemies against the true God; swear to defend Jesus Christ, a prisoner, and crucified a second time by the infidels. You see him who expires afresh upon Calvary for the redemption of your sins.”[168] At these words the cenobite was interrupted by the groans and cries of indignation which arose on all parts against the infidels. “Yes, I swear by your piety,” continued the orator, “I swear by your arms, that the reign of the impious is near its end. The army of the Lord has only to appear, and all that vain mass of Mussulmans will disperse like a shadow. To-day they are full of pride and insolence, to-morrow they shall be frozen with fear, and shall fall motionless before you, like the guardians of the sepulchre, who felt their arms escape from their hands, and fell dead with fright, when an earthquake announced the presence of a God on that Calvary on which you are going to mount the breach. Still a few moments, and these towers, the last bulwark of the infidels, shall be the asylum of the Christians; these mosques, which stand upon Christian ruins, shall serve as temples for the true God, and Jerusalem shall only henceforward hear the praises of the Lord.”

At these last words of Peter the most lively transports broke forth among the Christians; they embraced, shedding tears, and exhorting each other to support the evils and the fatigues of which they should so soon receive the glorious reward. The Christians at length descended the Mount of Olives to return to their camp, and, taking their route southward, they saluted on their right the tomb of David, and passed close to the pool of Siloë, where Christ restored sight to the man born blind. They perceived, further on, the ruins of the palaces of Judah, and marched along the declivity of Mount Sion, where other remembrances arose before them to add to their enthusiasm. Towards evening, the Christian army returned to their quarters, repeating these words of the prophet: The nations of the West shall fear the Lord; and the nations of the East shall see his glory. When they had regained their camp, the greater part 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 these things were passing in the Christian camp, the most profound silence reigned over the walls of Jerusalem; nothing was heard but the voices of the men who, from hour to hour, from the tops of the mosques of the city, called the Mussulmans to prayer. The infidels came 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 an equal ardour to fight and to shed their blood, the former to preserve, and the latter to conquer a city which both held sacred. The hatred which animated them was so violent, that during the whole siege no Mussulman deputy came into the Christian camp, nor did the Christians deign to summon the garrison to surrender. Between such enemies the shock must necessarily be terrible, and the victory implacable.

The leaders of the Christian army being assembled to decide upon the day for attacking the city, it was resolved to take advantage of the enthusiasm of the pilgrims, which was at its height, and to press forward the assault, the preparations for which were rapidly going on. As the Saracens had raised a great number of machines on the sides of the city most threatened by the Christians, it was agreed that they should change the dispositions of the siege, and that the principal attack should be directed towards the points where the enemy had made the least preparations for defence.

During the night Godfrey removed his quarters eastward, near to the gate of Cedar, and not far from the valley in which Titus was 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 constructed, were transported with incredible difficulty in face of the walls he intended to attack. Tancred and the two Roberts got ready their machines, between the gate of Damascus and the angular tower, which was afterwards called the tower of Tancred.[169]

When the Saracens, at daybreak, saw these new dispositions, they were seized with astonishment and affright. The Crusaders might have taken profitable advantage of the alarm which this change created in the enemy, but upon steep ground it was difficult to bring the towers up close to the walls. Raymond in particular, who was charged with the attack on the south, found himself separated from the rampart by a ravine, which it was necessary to have filled up. He immediately made it known, by a herald-at-arms, that he would pay a denier to every person who should cast three stones into it. A crowd of people instantly flew to second the efforts of his soldiers; nor could the darts and arrows, which were hurled like hail from the ramparts, at all relax the ardour and zeal of the assailants. At length, at the end of the third day, all was finished, and the leaders gave the signal for a general attack.

On Thursday, the 14th of July, 1099, as soon as day appeared, the clarions sounded in the camp of the Christians; all the Crusaders flew to arms; all the machines were in motion at once; the stone-machines and mangonels vomited showers of flints, whilst under the cover of tortoises and galleries, the rams were brought close to the walls. The archers and cross-bowmen kept up a continual discharge against the rampart; whilst the most brave planted their ladders in places where the wall seemed to offer least resistance. On the north, east, and south of the city, the three towers advanced towards the ramparts, amidst the tumult and shouts of the soldiers and the workmen. Godfrey appeared on the highest platform of his wooden fortress, accompanied by his brother Eustace and Baldwin du Bourg. He animated his people by his example; and every javelin that he cast, say the historians of the times, carried death among the Saracen host. Raymond, Tancred, the duke of Normandy, and the count of Flanders fought amidst their soldiers; whilst the knights and men-at-arms, animated by the same zeal as their principal chiefs, flew from place to place where danger called them.

Nothing could equal the impetuosity of the first shock of the Christians; but they were everywhere met by an obstinate resistance. Arrows, javelins, boiling oil, Greek fire, fourteen machines which the besieged had now time to oppose to those of their enemies, repulsed on all sides the attacks and the efforts of the assailants. The infidels issuing through a breach made in their rampart, attempted to burn the machines of the besiegers, and carried disorder among the Christian ranks. Towards the end of the day, the towers of Godfrey and Tancred could no longer be moved, whilst that of Raymond fell to pieces. The combat had lasted twelve hours, without victory having inclined to the side of the Crusaders, when night came to put a temporary end to the efforts of both parties. The Christians returned to their camp trembling with rage and grief; the leaders, but particularly the two Roberts, lamenting that God had not yet thought them worthy of entering into his holy city, and adoring the tomb of his Son.[170]

The night was spent anxiously on both sides, each deploring their losses, and trembling at the idea of others they were likely to sustain. The Saracens dreaded a surprise; the Christians were afraid that the Saracens would burn the machines they had left under the walls. The besieged were employed without intermission in repairing the breaches made in the walls; whilst the besiegers were equally active in putting their machines in a state of service against a fresh attack. The following day brought a renewal of the same dangers and the same combats that the preceding one had witnessed. The chiefs endeavoured by their speeches to raise the courage of the Crusaders; whilst the priests and bishops indefatigably visited the tents of the soldiers, promising them the assistance of Heaven. The Christian army, filled with renewed confidence in victory, appeared under arms, and marched in profound silence towards the points of attack, whilst the clergy walked in procession round the city.

The first shock was impetuous and terrible. The Christians were indignant at the resistance they had met with the day before, and fought with fury. The besieged, who had learnt the approach of an Egyptian army, were animated by the hope of victory, and their ramparts were protected by machines of a formidable description. The mutually discharged javelins hissed on all sides; whilst stones and beams launched by both Christians and infidels were dashed against each other in the air with a frightful noise, and fell upon the assailants. From the height of the towers, the Mussulmans unceasingly hurled lighted torches and fire-pots. The wooden fortresses of the Christians approached the walls amidst a conflagration which was increasing on all parts around them. The infidels directed their attacks particularly against the tower of Godfrey, upon the summit of which shone a cross of gold, the sight of which provoked their utmost fury. The duke of Lorraine saw one of his esquires and many of his soldiers fall by his side; but although himself a mark for all the arrows of the enemy, he fought on amidst the dead and the wounded, and never ceased to exhort his companions to redouble their courage and ardour. The count of Thoulouse, who attacked the city on the south side, brought up all his machines to bear against those of the Mussulmans: he had to contend against the emir of Jerusalem, who animated his people by his words, and appeared upon the walls surrounded by the élite of the Egyptian soldiery. Towards the north, Tancred and the two Roberts stood motionless at the head of their battalions, on their rolling fortress, impatient to employ the lance and sword. Already their rams had, upon several points, shaken the walls, behind which the Saracens in close ranks presented themselves as a last rampart against the attacks of the Christians.

In the midst of the conflict two female magicians appeared upon the ramparts of the city, calling, as the historians say, upon the elements and the infernal powers. They could not, however, themselves avoid the death which they invoked upon the Christians, and fell dead beneath a shower of arrows and stones.[171] Two Egyptian emissaries, sent from Ascalon to exhort the besieged to persist in their defence, were surprised by the Crusaders as they were endeavouring to enter the city. One of them fell covered with wounds, and the other, having revealed the secret of his mission, was, by means of a machine, hurled upon the ramparts where the Saracens were fighting. But the combat had now lasted half the day, without affording the Crusaders any hope of carrying the place. All their machines were on fire, and they wanted water, but more particularly vinegar,[172] which alone will extinguish the species of fire employed by the besieged. In vain the bravest exposed themselves to the greatest dangers to prevent the destruction of the wooden towers and the rams; they fell, buried under the ruins, and the flames consumed even their bucklers and vestments. Many of the most intrepid warriors had met with death at the foot of the ramparts; a great number of those who were upon the towers had been disabled; whilst the rest, covered with sweat and dust, fatigued by the weight of their arms and the heat, began to lose courage. The Saracens, who perceived this, uttered loud cries of joy. Among their blasphemies they reproached the Christians with worshipping a God who was not able to defend them. The assailants deplored their fate, and, believing themselves abandoned by Jesus Christ, remained motionless on the field of battle.

But the combat was destined soon to change its appearance. All at once the Crusaders saw a knight appear upon the Mount of Olives, waving his buckler, and giving the Christian army the signal for entering the city.[173] Godfrey and Raymond, who perceived him first and at the same time, cried out aloud that St. George was come to the help of the Christians! The tumult of the fight allowed neither reflection nor examination, the sight of the celestial horseman fired the besiegers with new ardour; and they returned to the charge. Women, even children and the sick, mingled in the mêlée, bringing water, food, and arms, and joined their efforts to those of the soldiers to move the rolling towers, the terror of the enemy, nearer the ramparts.[174] That of Godfrey, in spite of a terrible discharge of stones, arrows, and Greek fire, advanced near enough to have its drawbridge lowered upon the walls. Flaming darts flew, at the same time, in showers against the machines of the besieged, and against the sacks of straw and hay, and bags of wool which protected the last walls of the city. The wind assisted the fire, and drove the flames upon the Saracens, who, enveloped in masses of flame and smoke, retreated before the lances and swords of the Crusaders. Godfrey, preceded by the two brothers Lethalde and Engelbert of Tournai, and followed by Baldwin du Bourg, Eustace, Reimbault Creton,[175] Gunher, Bernard de St. Vallier, and Amenjou d’Albret, rushes upon the enemy, pursues them, and upon the track of their footsteps enters Jerusalem. All the brave men who fought with him on the platform of the tower, followed their intrepid chief, penetrated with him into the streets, and massacred all they met in their passage. At the same time a report was spread in the Christian army that the holy pontiff Adhemar, and several Crusaders who had fallen during the siege, had appeared at the head of the assailants, and had unfurled the standard of the Cross upon the towers of Jerusalem. Tancred and the two Roberts, animated by this account, made fresh efforts, and at last threw themselves into the place, accompanied by Hugh de St. Paul, Gerard de Roussillon, Louis de Mouson, Conon and Lambert de Montaigu, and Graston de Béarn. A crowd of heroes followed them closely; some entering by a half-opened breach; others scaling the walls with ladders; and many leaping from the tops of the wooden towers. The Mussulmans fled on all sides, and Jerusalem resounded with the cry of victory of the Crusaders, “It is the will of God! It is the will of God!”[176]

The companions of Godfrey and Tancred beat the gate of St. Stephen to pieces with axes, and the city was at once thrown open to the crowd of Crusaders, who pressed forward and contended for the honour of dealing the last blow to the conquered infidels.

Raymond alone still experienced some resistance. Warned of the success of the Christians, by the clashing of arms, and the tumult he heard in the city, he endeavoured still further to animate his soldiers. The latter, impatient to join their companions, abandoned their tower and machines, which they could no longer move. They planted ladders and swords, by the means of which they mounted the rampart, whither they were preceded by the count of Thoulouse, Raymond Pelet, the bishop of Bira, the count de Die, and William de Sabran. Nothing now could stop their progress; they dispersed the Saracens, who with their emir had taken refuge in the fortress of David,[177] and soon all the Crusaders united in Jerusalem embraced, wept for joy, and gave all their attention to the completion of their victory.

Despair, however, for a moment forced the bravest of the Saracens to rally, and they charged with impetuosity the Christians, who, in the security of victory, were proceeding to the pillage.[178] The latter were even beginning to give way before the enemy they had so recently conquered, when Everard de Puysaie, of whom Raoul de Caen has celebrated the bravery, revived the courage of his companions, placed himself at their head, and once more spread terror among the infidels. From that moment the Crusaders had no more enemies to contend with. History has remarked that the Christians entered Jerusalem on a Friday, at the hour of three in the afternoon; exactly the same day and hour at which Christ expired for the salvation of the human race. It might have been expected that this memorable epoch would have awakened sentiments of mercy in their hearts; but, irritated by the threats and protracted insults of the Saracens, incensed by the sufferings they had undergone during the siege, and by the resistance they had met with even in the city, they filled with blood and mourning that Jerusalem which they came to deliver, and which they considered as their own future country. The carnage soon became general, for all who escaped from the swords of Godfrey and Tancred, fell into the hands of the Provençals, equally thirsting for blood. The Saracens were massacred in the streets and in the houses; Jerusalem contained no place of refuge for the vanquished. Some sought to escape death by throwing themselves from the ramparts; others flocked in crowds to the palaces, the towers, but particularly to the mosques,—but nowhere could they escape the pursuit of the Christians.

When the Crusaders made themselves masters of the mosque of Omar, in which the Saracens defended themselves for some time, a frightful repetition ensued of the scenes of carnage which attended the conquest of Titus. Horse and foot entered the mosque pêle-mêle with the vanquished. In the midst of the most horrible tumult nothing was heard but groans, screams, and cries of death; the conquerors trampling over heaps of bodies in pursuit of all who endeavoured to escape. Raymond d’Agiles, an ocular witness, says that under the portico, and in the porch of the mosque, the blood rose up to the knees and the bridles of the horses.[179] To paint the terrible spectacle which was presented at two periods in the same place, it will suffice to say, borrowing the words of the historian Josephus, that the number of the slain by far surpassed that of the soldiers who immolated them to their vengeance, and that the mountains near the Jordan in moans reëchoed the frightful sounds that issued from the temple.

The imagination turns with disgust from these horrible pictures, and can scarcely, amidst the carnage, contemplate the touching image of the Christians of Jerusalem, whose chains the Crusaders had broken. They flocked from all parts to meet the conquerors; they shared with them all the provisions they had been able to steal from the Saracens; and with them offered up thanks to God for having granted such a triumph to the arms of the Christians. Peter the Hermit, who, five years before, had promised to arm the West for the deliverance of the Christians of Jerusalem, must have profoundly enjoyed the spectacle of their gratitude and exultation. Amidst all the Crusaders, they appeared only to see 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 the evils they had suffered during his absence; they could scarcely believe what was passing before them; and, in their enthusiasm, they expressed astonishment that God should thus have employed only a single man to stir up so many nations, and to effect such prodigies.

The sight of the brethren they had delivered, no doubt recalled to the minds of the pilgrims that they were come for the purpose of adoring the tomb of Christ; and the pious Godfrey, who had abstained from carnage after the victory, quitted his companions, and, followed by three attendants, repaired without arms and barefooted to the church of the Holy Sepulchre.[180] The news of this act of devotion was soon spread through the Christian army, and immediately all vengeance and all fury were at an end; the Crusaders, casting away their bloody vestments, made the city resound with their groans and their sobs, and, conducted by the clergy, marched together, with their feet bare and their heads uncovered, towards the church of the Resurrection.

When the Christian army was thus assembled on Calvary, night began to fall; silence reigned over the public places and around the ramparts;[181] nothing was heard in the holy city but hymns of penitence and these words of Isaiah, “You who love Jerusalem, rejoice with her.” The Crusaders exhibited a devotion so animated and so tender, that it might have been said, according to the remark of a modern historian,[182] that these men who had just taken a city by assault, and had committed a horrible carnage, had come forth from a long retirement and a profound meditation upon our mysteries. These inexplicable contrasts are often to be observed in the history of the crusades. Some writers have believed that they found in them a pretext to accuse the Christian religion itself, whilst others, not less blind or passionate, have endeavoured to palliate the deplorable excesses of fanaticism; the impartial historian contents himself with relating them, and mourns in silence over the weaknesses of human nature.

The pious fervour of the Christians only suspended the scenes of carnage. The policy of some of the leaders might make them believe that it was necessary to inspire the Saracens with as much dread as possible; they thought, perhaps also, that if they released the men who had defended Jerusalem, they should have to fight them over again, and that it was not prudent for them, in a distant country and surrounded by enemies, to undertake the charge of prisoners whose number by far surpassed that of their own soldiers. The approach of the Egyptian army likewise was announced, and the dread of a new danger closed their hearts against pity. In their council, a sentence of death was decreed against all the Mussulmans that remained in the city.[183]

Fanaticism but too well seconded this barbarous policy. All the enemies whom humanity or the fatigue of carnage had at first spared, and even such as had been saved in hopes of a rich ransom, were slaughtered. They compelled the Saracens to cast themselves from the tops of the towers and the houses; they made them perish in the midst of flames; they dragged them from their subterranean concealments to the public places, and there immolated them upon heaps of dead. Neither the tears of women nor the cries of infants, not even the sight of the very place where Christ had pardoned his executioners, could soften the hearts of the angry conquerors. The carnage was so great that, according to the report of Albert d’Aix, bodies were seen heaped up, not only in the palaces, the temples, and the streets, but even in the most retired and solitary places. Such was the delirium of vengeance and fanaticism, that these scenes appear not to have been revolting to the eyes of those who beheld them. The contemporary historians describe them without thinking of excusing them, and amidst recitals of the most disgusting details, never allow a single expression of horror or pity to escape them.[184]

The few Crusaders who had preserved any feelings of humanity had not the power to check the fury of an army who thought they were avenging outraged religion. Three hundred Saracens, who had taken refuge on the platform of the mosque of Omar, were immolated on the day after the conquest, in spite of the prayers of Tancred, who had sent them his standard as a safeguard, and was indignant to find that so little respect was paid to the laws of honour and chivalry.[185] The Saracens who had retreated to the fortress of David were almost the only persons that escaped death. Raymond accepted their capitulation, and had the good fortune and the glory to have it executed; but this act of humanity appeared so strange to the greater part of the Crusaders, that they expressed less admiration for the generosity of the count de St. Gilles than contempt for his avarice.[186]

The carnage did not cease until the end of a week. Such of the Saracens as had been able to elude pursuit during this period were reserved for the service of the army. The Oriental and Latin historians agree in stating the number of the Mussulmans slain in Jerusalem to have been more than seventy thousand. The Jews met with no more mercy than the Saracens. The soldiers set fire to the synagogue in which they had taken refuge, and all perished in the flames.

But it began to be feared that the bodies heaped up in the public places, and the blood which had flooded the mosques and the streets might give rise to pestilential diseases, and the leaders gave orders that the streets should be cleansed, and that a spectacle which, now fury and fanaticism were satisfied, must have been odious to them, should be removed from before their eyes. Some Mussulman prisoners, who had only escaped the sword of the conquerors to fall into a horrible state of slavery, were ordered to bury the disfigured bodies of their friends and brothers. “They wept,” says Robert the Monk,[187] “and transported the carcases out of Jerusalem.” They were assisted in this melancholy duty by the soldiers of Raymond, who, having entered last into the city, had not had a large share of the plunder, and sought to increase it by a close search of the bodies of the Saracens.

The city of Jerusalem soon presented a new spectacle. In the course of a few days only it had changed its inhabitants, laws, and religion. Before the last assault it had been agreed, according to the custom of the Crusaders in their conquests, that every warrior should remain master and possessor of the house or edifice in which he should present himself first. A cross, a buckler, or any other mark placed upon a door, was, for every one of the conquerors, a good title of possession. This right of property was respected by every soldier, however greedy of plunder, and the greatest order soon reigned in a city but recently given up to all the horrors of war. The victory enriched the greater part of the Crusaders. The conquerors shared the provisions and the riches they had found, and such as had not been fortunate in the pillage had no cause to complain of their companions. A part of the treasures was employed in assisting the poor, in supporting orphans, and in decorating the altars they had freed from the Mussulmans.

Tancred had as his share all the wealth found in the mosque of Omar. Among these riches were twenty candelabra of gold, a hundred and twenty of silver, a large lamp,[188] and many other ornaments of the same metals. This booty was so considerable, that it would have been enough, say the historians, to load six chariots, and employed Tancred two days in removing it from the mosque. The Italian hero gave up a portion of this to his soldiers and another to Godfrey, to whose service he had attached himself. He distributed abundance of alms, and placed fifty gold marks in the hands of the Latin clergy for the reëstablishment and the decoration of the churches.

But the Crusaders soon turned their eyes from the treasures which victory had bestowed upon them to admire a conquest much more precious in their estimation; this was the true cross, which had been borne away from Jerusalem by Cosroës and brought back again by Heraclius. The Christians shut up in the city had concealed it from the Saracens during the siege. The sight of it excited the most lively emotions in the pilgrims. “Of this thing,” says an old chronicle, “the Christians were as much delighted as if they had seen the body of Christ hung thereupon.” It was borne in triumph through the streets of Jerusalem, and then replaced in the church of the Resurrection.

Ten days after their victory the Crusaders employed themselves in restoring the throne of David and Solomon, and in placing upon it a leader who might preserve and maintain a conquest that the Christians had made at the expense of so much blood. The council of the princes being assembled, one of the leaders ’history names the count of Flanders) arose in the midst of them, and spoke in these terms:[189] “Brothers and companions; we are met to treat of an affair of the greatest importance; never did we stand in greater need of the counsels of wisdom and the inspirations of heaven. In ordinary times it is desirable that authority should be in the hands of the most able; with how much greater reason then ought we to seek for the man most worthy to govern this kingdom, still in a great measure in the power of the barbarians. Already we are told that the Egyptians threaten this city, for which we are about to choose a master. The greater part of the Christian warriors are impatient to return to their country, and to abandon to others the care of defending their conquests. The new people then who are going to inhabit this land will have in their neighbourhood no other Christian nations to assist them in their need or console them in their disgraces. Their enemies are near them, their allies are beyond the seas. The king we shall give them will be their only support amidst the perils which will surround them. He then who is called upon to govern this country must have all the qualities necessary to maintain his position with glory; he must unite with the bravery natural to the Franks, temperance, good faith, and humanity; for you know by such virtues great principalities are acquired and kept as well as by arms. Let us not forget, brothers and companions, that our object to-day is not so much to elect a king for Jerusalem, as to bestow upon it a faithful guardian. He whom we shall choose as leader must be as a father to all those who have quitted their country and their families for the service of Jesus Christ and the defence of the holy places. He must make virtue flourish in this land where God himself has given the model of it; he must win the infidels to the Christian religion, accustom them to our manners, and teach them to bless our laws. If you elect one who is not worthy, you will destroy your own work, and will bring ruin on the Christian name in this country. I have no need to recall to your minds the exploits or the labours which have placed us in possession of this territory; I will not remind you of the dearest wishes of our brothers who have remained in the West. What would be their sorrow, what would be ours, if, on our return to Europe, we should hear that the public good had been neglected and betrayed, or religion abolished in these places where we have restored its altars? Many would then not fail to attribute to fortune, and not to virtue, the great things we have done, whilst the evils which this kingdom would undergo would pass in the eyes of men as the fruit of our imprudence.

“Do not believe, however, brothers and companions, that I speak thus because I am ambitious of royalty, and that I am seeking your favour or suffrages. No; I have not sufficient presumption to aspire to such an honour; I take Heaven and men to witness, that even if you should offer me the crown, I would not accept it, being resolved to return to my own country. That which I have said to you is but for the good and glory of all. For the rest, I supplicate you to receive this advice as I give it to you, with affection, frankness, and loyalty, and to elect for king him who by his virtue shall be most capable of preserving and extending this kingdom, to which are attached both the honour of your arms and the cause of Jesus Christ.”

Scarcely had the count of Flanders ceased speaking, than all the other leaders gave him the warmest praise for his prudence and good feelings. Most of them even thought of offering him the honour he had declined, for he who in such circumstances refuses a crown, always appears to be the most worthy of it; but Robert had expressed himself with frankness and good faith; he longed to return to Europe, and was satisfied with the honour of bearing the title of “the Son of St. George,” which his exploits in the holy war had obtained for him.

Among the leaders who could be called upon to reign over Jerusalem, we must place in the first rank Godfrey, Raymond, the duke of Normandy, and Tancred. The only object of Tancred was glory in arms, and he placed the title of knight far above that of king. The duke of Normandy, likewise, had evinced more bravery than ambition; after having disdained the kingdom of England, he was not likely to be anxious to gain that of Jerusalem. If we may believe an English historian,[190] he might have obtained the suffrages of his companions; but he refused the throne of David from indolence, which so irritated God against him, says the same author, that nothing afterwards prospered with him during the remainder of his life. The count of Thoulouse had taken an oath never to return to Europe, but his companions dreaded his obstinate and ambitious character; and although several authors have said that he refused to ascend the throne on account of his great age, everything leads us to believe that the Christians feared to have him for king.

The opinions of the leaders and the army were various and uncertain. The clergy insisted that a patriarch should be named before they elected a king; the princes were not at all agreed among themselves, and of the body of the Crusaders, some would have wished to choose him whom they had followed through the holy war, whilst others, like the Provençals, who had no attachment for the count of St. Gilles, and were not desirous of remaining in Asia, gave all their efforts to keep the crown of Jerusalem from the prince under whose colours they served.

To terminate the debate, it was decided that the choice should be made by a special council of ten of the most highly respected men of the army. Prayers, fasts, and alms were commanded, in order to propitiate Heaven to guide them in the nomination they were about to make. They who were called upon to choose the king swore, in the presence of the whole Christian army, not to listen to any interest or any private affection, but to decree the crown to wisdom and virtue. These electors, whose names history has not preserved, gave the utmost attention to ascertain the opinion of the army upon the merits of each of the leaders. William of Tyre relates that they went so far as even to interrogate the familiar associates and servants of all who had any pretensions to the crown, and that they made them take an oath to reveal all they knew of the manners, characters, and secret propensities of their masters. The servants of Godfrey of Bouillon gave the most striking evidence of his mildness and humanity, but above all of his exemplary devotion.

To add to this honourable testimony, the exploits of the duke of Lorraine during the holy war were dwelt upon. They remembered that at the siege of Nice he had killed the most redoubtable of the Saracens; that he had split from shoulder to haunch a giant on the bridge of Antioch, and that in Asia Minor he had exposed his life to save that of a soldier who was overpowered by a bear. Many other feats of bravery were related of him, which in the minds of the Crusaders placed him above all the other competitors.[191]

Godfrey was the leader decidedly in possession of the suffrages of the majority of the army and the people; and that he might not want anything in the expression of their wishes for his success, revelations were announced that God himself declared in his favour. “Many years before the crusade,” says Albert d’Aix, “a soldier named Hezelon de Kintzveiler, had fallen asleep in a forest, and, being conveyed in a dream to the summit of Sinai, he had seen Godfrey, covered with glory, and accompanied by two celestial messengers, who announced to him that God had chosen him, as he had done Moses, to be the conductor and chief of his people.” A clerk, Giselbert ’a canon of St. Mary, of Aix la Chapelle), related a vision not less miraculous. The duke of Lorraine had appeared to him seated upon the throne even of the sun. The birds of heaven from all climates and all points of the horizon, flew around him in numberless troops. The recital of this apparition was accompanied by many other circumstances which we have not space to repeat; but the Crusaders, who were much struck with them, did not fail to see in the throne of the sun a faithful image of that of Jerusalem, and in the birds of heaven the multitude of pilgrims who would come from all countries to do honour to the glorious reign of Godfrey.[192]

These visions, which are despised in an enlightened age, had great power over the Christian army, and did not contribute less than the personal merit of the prince of Bouillon to draw upon him the attention of all. In this disposition of the general mind, the Crusaders looked with impatience for the decision of the council which was to give a king to Jerusalem.