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