Joseph François Michaud - The History of the Crusades (Vol.1-3)

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.