FullReads

After he had walked for a while he noticed that his companion had vanished. When he called him, the dog answered by barking. The pilgrim followed the sound, and presently he saw the dog standing by a hole in the wall. There was an entrance, and, following his guide, he came without hindrance right into the town. The first thing he did was to visit the Holy Sepulchre, but it was closed. Then he remembered that there was a Patriarch of Jerusalem, who in some degree acted as a protector of the Christians. But where did he live? “Perhaps you know,” he said to the dog.

The dog understood, pricked up his ears, and ran through a labyrinth of crooked streets till he stood at a little door, with a bell-cord hanging by it. The pilgrim pulled it, the door opened, and an old white-bearded man came out, reached the new-comer his hand, led him like a friend into the house, and bade him sit down. “I have waited long for you, Peter,” he said. “Yes, I recognise you, for I have seen you for a year in my dreams, but I know not who you are, and whence you come. Tell me your history.”

“My history! I am from Amiens in France. I am now called Peter; was formerly a soldier, followed William the Conqueror to Hastings, and took part in the invasion of England. I returned to my own country, and became a school teacher. I could, however, obtain no peace in my soul, but entered a convent. In the solitude of my cell, I reflected on what I heard from my brother monks in the chapter. It was the time when Henry IV began the conflict with Gregory VII. The Pope was right, for Europe ought to be governed from Rome, and Gregory, who wished to set up Christ’s Kingdom in spirit and in truth, had united all Christian States together; he imposed tribute from Scandinavia to the Pillars of Hercules. The Emperor was a schismatic, and worked only in the interests of Germany. The matter ended at Canossa, as you know, when the Emperor had to kiss the Pope’s foot. And that was right at that time, for the spiritual head is higher than the worldly one. But Canossa was not the end. Gregory, the mighty champion of the Lord, fell into the same sin as David. In the first place, he summoned the Norman Guiscard from Sicily to his aid. Guiscard came with a horde of Turks and heathen, pillaged Rome, and set it on fire. That was shameful of the Pope, who now fled with Guiscard to Salerno–which was his Canossa. But he was also still cruel enough to stir up Henry’s sons against their father. Then the great Gregory died in banishment, and Rome was extinct. Rome is no more, but Jerusalem shall be. The chief city of Christendom shall be born again, and rise from its ruins.”

The Patriarch had listened, and, though he smiled at first, he was finally serious. “Your faith is great, my son,” he said. “But who will take the lead? Who will collect the people?”

“I,” answered the Hermit–“I will open the Holy Sepulchre; I will drive out the heathen, and I will have the first Christian King of Jerusalem crowned!”

“With two empty hands?”

“With my rock-like faith.”

There was silence.

“Say something, Patriarch!” resumed Peter. “Try to damp my courage if you can; confront me with objections, and rob me of confidence. You cannot! There, I will go now to Rome and speak with Urban II. But give me a letter to confirm my statements when I describe the behaviour of the heathen in the city of Christ. I ask nothing else of you; the rest I will do myself.”

“Whoever you are, you shall have the letter, but rest first for a few days.”

“No! I have gone three hundred and fifty miles and rested for thirty days. Give me something to eat in the kitchen, while you write the letter, and I start before sunset. When I come again, I shall not be alone, but my name will be Legion. And you will see the accomplishment of my words and your dreams, for God wills it.”