It is probable that motives of policy joined with those of fanaticism in the persecution of the Christians. Gerbert, archbishop of Ravenna, who had become pope, under the name of Sylvester II., had witnessed the ills to which the faithful were subjected in their pilgrimages to Jerusalem. On his return he excited the nations of the West to take up arms against the Saracens. In his exhortations, he made Jerusalem herself speak, made her deplore her misfortunes, and conjure her Christian children to hasten and break her chains. The people were deeply moved with the complaints and groans of Sion. The Pisans, the Genoese, with Boson, king of Arles, undertook a maritime expedition against the Saracens, and made an incursion upon the coasts of Syria. These hostilities, and the number of the pilgrims, which increased every day, might well create distrust in the masters of the East. The Saracens, alarmed by sinister predictions, and by the imprudent menaces of the Christians, saw nothing but enemies in the disciples of Christ; from that time terror and death guarded the gates of Jerusalem.
It is impossible, says William of Tyre, to describe all the species of persecutions to which the Christians were then exposed. Among the instances of barbarity cited by the historians, there is one which gave to Tasso the idea of his affecting episode of Olindus and Sophronia. One of the bitterest enemies of the Christians, in order to increase the hatred of their persecutors, threw, in the night, a dead dog into one of the principal mosques of the city. The first who repaired thither to morning prayer were seized with horror at the sight of this profanation, and proclaimed their anger aloud. Threatening clamours soon resounded in every part of the city; the crowd assembled in a state of tumultuous excitement around the mosque; the Christians were at once accused of this act of sacrilege, and all swore to wash out the outrage to their prophet in the blood of the perpetrators. All Christians were about to be immolated to the revenge of the Mussulmans, and already were they prepared for death, when a young man, whose name history has not preserved, presented himself in the midst of them. “The greatest misfortune that could happen,” said he, “would be that the church of Jerusalem should perish. When a people is threatened with destruction, it is just that a single man should sacrifice himself for the salvation of all; I here and now offer myself as a victim to die for you; to you I leave the charge of doing justice to my memory, and I recommend myself to your prayers.” After pronouncing these words, which dissolved the assembly in tears, he quitted them, and repaired to the chiefs of the Mussulmans; he declared himself alone to be the author of the crime imputed to the Christians, and invoked upon himself the death with which his brethren were menaced. The Mussulmans, without being in the least touched by his generous devotion, were satisfied with the victim who offered himself to their vengeance: the sword was no longer suspended over the heads of the Christians, and he who had immolated himself for their safety, went, according to the expression of William of Tyre,[21] to receive in heaven the reward reserved for those whose minds burn with a love of perfect charity.
Nevertheless, other misfortunes awaited the Christians of Palestine; all religious ceremonies were interdicted; the greater part of the churches were converted into stables; that of the Holy Sepulchre was completely destroyed. The Christians, driven from Jerusalem, were scattered throughout the countries of the East. Old historians relate, that the world took part in the mourning of the holy city, and was seized with trouble and consternation. Winter, with its frosts and storms, showed itself in regions where, till that time, it had been unknown. The Bosphorus and the Nile bore sheets of ice upon their bosoms. Earthquakes were felt in Syria and Asia Minor; and their shocks, which were repeated during two months, destroyed several large cities. When the account of the destruction of the holy places arrived in the West, it drew tears from all true Christians. We read in the chronicle of the monk Glaber, that Europe had likewise been presented with signs which foreboded great calamities: a shower of stones had fallen in Burgundy, and a comet and threatening meteors had appeared in the heavens. The agitation was extreme among all Christian nations; nevertheless, they did not take up arms against the Mussulmans, but the whole of their vengeance fell upon the Jews, whom all Europe accused of having provoked the fury of the infidels.
The calamities of the holy city rendered it still more venerable in the eyes of the faithful; persecution redoubled the pious delirium of those who went into Asia to contemplate a city covered with ruins, and to behold an empty sepulchre. It was in Jerusalem, filled with mourning, that God most manifestly distributed his blessings and delighted to point out his will. Impostors constantly took advantage of this opinion of the Christian people, to mislead the credulity of the multitude. To gain credit for their words, it was quite sufficient to exhibit letters which, they said, had fallen from heaven into Jerusalem. At this period, a prediction, which announced[22] the end of the world and the approaching coming of Jesus Christ into Palestine, very much increased the veneration of the people for the holy places. The Christians of the West arrived in crowds at Jerusalem, with the design of dying there, or there awaiting the coming of the sovereign judge. The monk Glaber informs us, that the affluence of pilgrims surpassed all that could be expected from the devotion of these remote times. First were seen on the holy march the poor and the lower classes, then counts, barons, and princes, all reckoning as nothing the grandeurs of the earth.
The inconstancy of Hakim had, in a degree, mitigated the misfortunes of Jerusalem, and he had just granted liberty to the Christians to rebuild their churches, when he died by the hand of the assassin. His successor, guided by a wiser policy, tolerated both pilgrimages and the exercise of the Christian religion. The church of the Holy Sepulchre was not entirely rebuilt till thirty years after its destruction; but the spectacle of its ruins still inflamed the zeal and the devotion of the Christians.
In the eleventh century the Latin Church allowed pilgrimages to suffice instead of canonical penitences; sinners were condemned to quit their country for a time, and to lead a wandering life, after the example of Cain. This mode of performing penance agreed better with the active and restless character of the people of the West. It ought to be added, that the devotion of pilgrimages, whatever may be the opinion of an enlightened philosophy, has been received, and even encouraged, in all religions. It belongs, too, to a sentiment natural to man. If the sight of a land once inhabited by heroes and sages awakens in us touching and noble remembrances; if the soul of the philosopher finds itself agitated at the sight of the ruins of Palmyra, Babylon, or Athens; what lively emotions must not the Christians have felt on beholding places which God had sanctified by his presence and his blessings?
The Christians of the West, almost all unhappy in their own countries, and who often lost the sense of their evils in long voyages, appeared to be only employed in seeking upon earth the traces of a consoling and helpful divinity, or of some holy personage. There existed no province without its martyr or its apostle, whose support they went to implore; there was no city or secluded spot which did not preserve the tradition of a miracle, or had not a chapel open to pilgrims. The most guilty of sinners, or the most fervent of the faithful, exposed themselves to the greatest perils, and repaired to the most distant places. Sometimes they directed their steps to Apulia and Calabria, they visited Mount Gargan, celebrated by the apparition of St. Michael, or Mount Cassin, rendered famous by the miracles of St. Benedict; sometimes they traversed the Pyrenees, and, in a country given up to the Saracens, esteemed themselves happy in praying before the relics of St. Jago, the patron saint of Galicia. Some, like King Robert, went to Rome, and prostrated themselves on the tombs of the apostles St. Peter and St. Paul; others travelled as far as Egypt, where Christ had passed his infancy, and penetrated