We will not go on to tell of his last years. The particular events of

his life are far less significant than its general atmosphere. It is

possible to piece together something of his court life in Sicily. He

was luxurious in his way of living, and fond of beautiful things. He

is described as licentious. But it is clear that he was a man of very

effectual curiosity and inquiry. He gathered Jewish and Moslem as well

as Christian philosophers at his court, and he did much to irrigate the

Italian mind with Saracenic influences. Through him the Arabic

numerals and algebra were introduced to Christian students, and among

other philosophers at his court was Michael Scott, who translated

portions of Aristotle and the commentaries thereon of the great Arab

philosopher Averroes (of Cordoba). In 1224 Frederick founded the

University of Naples, and he enlarged and enriched the great medical

school at Salerno University. He also founded a zoological garden. He

left a book on hawking, which shows him to have been an acute observer

of the habits of birds, and he was one of the first Italians to write

Italian verse. Italian poetry was indeed born at his court. He has

been called by an able writer, “the first of the moderns,” and the

phrase expresses aptly the unprejudiced detachment of his intellectual

side.

A still more striking intimation of the decay of the living and

sustaining forces of the papacy appeared when presently the Popes came

into conflict with the growing power of the French King. During the

lifetime of the Emperor Frederick II, Germany fell into disunion, and

the French King began to play the rôle of guard, supporter and rival to

the Pope that had hitherto fallen to the Hohenstaufen Emperors. A

series of Popes pursued the policy of supporting the French monarchs.

French princes were established in the kingdom of Sicily and Naples,

with the support and approval of Rome, and the French Kings saw before

them the possibility of restoring and ruling the Empire of Charlemagne.

When, however, the German interregnum after the death of Frederick II,

the last of the Hohenstaufens, came to all end and Rudolf of Habsburg

was elected first Habsburg Emperor (1273), the policy of Rome began to

fluctuate between France and Germany, veering about with the sympathies

of each successive Pope. In the East in 1261 the Greeks recaptured

Constantinople from the Latin emperors, and the founder of the new

Greek dynasty, Michael Palæologus, Michael VIII, after some unreal

tentatives of reconciliation with the Pope, broke away from the Roman

communion altogether, and with that, and the fall of the Latin kingdoms

in Asia, the eastward ascendancy of the Popes came to an end.

COSTUMES OF THE BURGUNDIAN NOBILITY: FLEMISH WORK OF THE FIFTEENTH

CENTURY

COSTUMES OF THE BURGUNDIAN NOBILITY: FLEMISH WORK OF THE FIFTEENTH

CENTURY

In 1294 Boniface VIII became Pope. He was an Italian, hostile to the

French, and full of a sense of the great traditions and mission of

Rome. For a time he carried things with a high hand. In 1300 he held

a jubilee, and a vast multitude of pilgrims assembled in Rome. “So

great was the influx of money into the papal treasury, that two

assistants were kept busy with the rakes collecting the offerings that

were deposited at the tomb of St. Peter.” [1] But this festival was a

delusive triumph. Boniface came into conflict with the French King in

1302, and in 1303, as he was about to pronounce sentence of

excommunication against that monarch, he was surprised and arrested in

his own ancestral palace at Anagni, by Guillaume de Nogaret. This

agent from the French King forced an entrance into the palace, made his

way into the bedroom of the frightened Pope—he was lying in bed with a

cross in his hands—and heaped threats and insults upon him. The Pope

was liberated a day or so later by the townspeople, and returned to

Rome; but there he was seized upon and again made prisoner by the

Orsini family, and in a few weeks’ time the shocked and disillusioned

old man died a prisoner in their hands.

COSTUMES OF THE BURGUNDIAN NOBILITY: FLEMISH WORK OF THE FIFTEENTH

CENTURY

COSTUMES OF THE BURGUNDIAN NOBILITY: FLEMISH WORK OF THE FIFTEENTH

CENTURY

This series is from casts in the Victoria and Albert Museum of the

original brass statuettes in the Rijks Museum, Amsterdam

The people of Anagni did resent the first outrage, and rose against

Nogaret to liberate Boniface, but then Anagni was the Pope’s native

town. The important point to note is that the French King in this

rough treatment of the head of Christendom was acting with the full

approval of his people; he had summoned a council of the Three Estates

of France (lords, church and commons) and gained their consent before

proceeding to extremities. Neither in Italy, Germany nor England was

there the slightest general manifestation of disapproval at this free

handling of the sovereign pontiff. The idea of Christendom had decayed

until its power over the minds of men had gone.

Throughout the fourteenth century the papacy did nothing to recover its

moral sway. The next Pope elected, Clement V, was a Frenchman, the

choice of King Philip of France. He never came to Rome. He set up his

court in the town of Avignon, which then belonged not to France but to

the papal See, though embedded in French territory, and there his

successors remained until 1377, when Pope Gregory XI returned to the

Vatican palace in Rome. But Gregory XI did not take the sympathies of

the whole church with him. Many of the cardinals were of French origin

and their habits and associations were rooted deep at Avignon. When in

1378 Gregory XI died, and an Italian, Urban VI, was elected, these

dissentient cardinals declared the election invalid, and elected

another Pope, the anti-Pope, Clement VII. This split is called the

Great Schism. The Popes remained in Rome, and all the anti-French

powers, the Emperor, the King of England, Hungary, Poland and the North

of Europe were loyal to them. The anti-Popes, on the other hand,

continued in Avignon, and were supported by the King of France, his

ally the King of Scotland, Spain, Portugal and various German princes.

Each Pope excommunicated and cursed the adherents of his rival

(1378-1417).

Is it any wonder that presently all over Europe people began to think

for themselves in matters of religion?

The beginnings of the Franciscans and the Dominicans, which we have

noted in the preceding chapters, were but two among many of the new

forces that were arising in Christendom, either to hold or shatter the

church as its own wisdom might decide. Those two orders the church did

assimilate and use, though with a little violence in the case of the

former. But other forces were more frankly disobedient and critical.

A century and a half later came Wycliffe (1320-1384). He was a learned

Doctor at Oxford. Quite late in his life he began a series of

outspoken criticisms of the corruption of the clergy and the unwisdom

of the church. He organized a number of poor priests, the Wycliffites,

to spread his ideas throughout England; and in order that people should

judge between the church and himself, he translated the Bible into

English. He was a more learned and far abler man than either St.

Francis or St. Dominic. He had supporters in high places and a great

following among the people; and though Rome raged against him, and

ordered his imprisonment, he died a free man. But the black and

ancient spirit that was leading the Catholic Church to its destruction

would not let his bones rest in the grave. By a decree of the Council

of Constance in 1415, his remains were ordered to be dug up and burnt,

an order which was carried out at the command of Pope Martin V by

Bishop Fleming in 1428. This desecration was not the act of some

isolated fanatic; it was the official act of the church.

[1] J. H. Robinson.

XLVIII

THE MONGOL CONQUESTS

But in the thirteenth century, while this strange and finally

ineffectual struggle to unify Christendom under the rule of the Pope

was going on in Europe, far more momentous events were afoot upon the

larger stage of Asia. A Turkish people from the country to the north of

China rose suddenly to prominence in the world’s affairs, and achieved

such a series of conquests as has no parallel in history. These were

the Mongols. At the opening of the thirteenth century they were a horde

of nomadic horsemen, living very much as their predecessors, the Huns,

had done, subsisting chiefly upon meat and mare’s milk and living in

tents of skin. They had shaken themselves free from Chinese dominion,

and brought a number of other Turkish tribes into a military

confederacy. Their central camp was at Karakorum in Mongolia.

At this time China was in a state of division. The great dynasty of

Tang had passed into decay by the tenth century, and after a phase of

division into warring states, three main empires, that of Kin in the

north with Pekin as its capital and that of Sung in the south with a

capital at Nankin, and Hsia in the centre, remain. In 1214 Jengis

Khan, the leader of the Mongol confederates, made war on the Kin Empire

and captured Pekin (1214). He then turned westward and conquered

Western Turkestan, Persia, Armenia, India down to Lahore, and South

Russia as far as Kieff. He died master of a vast empire that reached

from the Pacific to the Dnieper.

His successor, Ogdai Khan, continued this astonishing career of

conquest. His armies were organized to a very high level of

efficiency; and they had with them a new Chinese invention, gunpowder,

which they used in small field guns. He completed the conquest of the

Kin Empire and then swept his hosts right across Asia to Russia (1235),

an altogether amazing march. Kieff was destroyed in 1240, and nearly

all Russia became tributary to the Mongols. Poland was ravaged, and a

mixed army of Poles and Germans was annihilated at the battle of

Liegnitz in Lower Silesia in 1241. The Emperor Frederick II does not

seem to have made any great efforts to stay the advancing tide.

Map: The Ottoman Empire before 1453

“It is only recently,” says Bury in his notes to Gibbon’s _Decline and

Fall of the Roman Empire_, “that European history has begun to

understand that the successes of the Mongol army which overran Poland

and occupied Hungary in the spring of A.D. 1241 were won by consummate

strategy and were not due to a mere overwhelming superiority of

numbers. But this fact has not yet become a matter of common

knowledge; the vulgar opinion which represents the Tartars as a wild

horde carrying all before them solely by their multitude, and galloping

through Eastern Europe without a strategic plan, rushing at all

obstacles and overcoming them by mere weight, still prevails. . . .

“It was wonderful how punctually and effectually the arrangements were

carried out in operations extending from the Lower Vistula to

Transylvania. Such a campaign was quite beyond the power of any

European army of the time, and it was beyond the vision of any European

commander. There was no general in Europe, from Frederick II downward,

who was not a tyro in strategy compared to Subutai. It should also be

noticed that the Mongols embarked upon the enterprise with full

knowledge of the political situation of Hungary and the condition of

Poland—they had taken care to inform themselves by a well-organized

system of spies; on the other hand, the Hungarians and the Christian

powers, like childish barbarians, knew hardly anything about their

enemies.”

Map: The Empire of Jengis Khan at his death (1227)

But though the Mongols were victorious at Liegnitz, they did not

continue their drive westward. They were getting into woodlands and

hilly country, which did not suit their tactics; and so they turned

southward and prepared to settle in Hungary, massacring or assimilating

the kindred Magyar, even as these had previously massacred and

assimilated the mixed Scythians and Avars and Huns before them. From

the Hungarian plain they would probably have made raids west and south

as the Hungarians had done in the ninth century, the Avars in the

seventh and eighth and the Huns in the fifth. But Ogdai died suddenly,

and in 1242 there was trouble about the succession, and recalled by

this, the undefeated hosts of Mongols began to pour back across Hungary

and Roumania towards the east.

Thereafter the Mongols concentrated their attention upon their Asiatic

conquests. By the middle of the thirteenth century they had conquered

the Sung Empire. Mangu Khan succeeded Ogdai Khan as Great Khan in

1251, and made his brother Kublai Khan governor of China. In 1280

Kublai Khan had been formally recognized Emperor of China, and so

founded the Yuan dynasty which lasted until 1368. While the last ruins

of the Sung rule were going down in China, another brother of Mangu,

Hulagu, was conquering Persia and Syria. The Mongols displayed a bitter

animosity to Islam at this time, and not only massacred the population

of Bagdad when they captured that city, but set to work to destroy the

immemorial irrigation system which had kept Mesopotamia incessantly

prosperous and populous from the early days of Sumeria. From that time

until our own Mesopotamia has been a desert of ruins, sustaining only a

scanty population. Into Egypt the Mongols never penetrated; the Sultan

of Egypt completely defeated an army of Hulagu’s in Palestine in 1260.

After that disaster the tide of Mongol victory ebbed. The dominions of

the Great Khan fell into a number of separate states. The eastern

Mongols became Buddhists, like the Chinese; the western became Moslim.

The Chinese threw off the rule of the Yuan dynasty in 1368, and set up

the native Ming dynasty which flourished from 1368 to 1644. The

Russians remained tributary to the Tartar hordes upon the south-east

steppes until 1480, when the Grand Duke of Moscow repudiated his

allegiance and laid the foundation of modern Russia.

TARTAR HORSEMEN

TARTAR HORSEMEN

_(From a Chinese Print in the British Museum) _

In the fourteenth century there was a brief revival of Mongol vigour

under Timurlane, a descendant of Jengis Khan. He established himself

in Western Turkestan, assumed the title of Grand Khan in 1369, and

conquered from Syria to Delhi. He was the most savage and destructive

of all the Mongol conquerors. He established an empire of desolation

that did not survive his death. In 1505, however, a descendant of this

Timur, an adventurer named Baber, got together an army with guns and

swept down upon the plains of India. His grandson Akbar (1556-1605)

completed his conquests, and this Mongol (or “Mogul” as the Arabs

called it) dynasty ruled in Delhi over the greater part of India until

the eighteenth century.

Map: The Ottoman Empire at the death of Suleiman the Magnificent, 1566

A.D.

One of the consequences of the first great sweep of Mongol conquest in

the thirteenth century was to drive a certain tribe of Turks, the

Ottoman Turks, out of Turkestan into Asia Minor. They extended and

consolidated their power in Asia Minor, crossed the Dardanelles and

conquered Macedonia, Serbia and Bulgaria, until at last Constantinople

remained like an island amongst the Ottoman dominions. In 1453 the

Ottoman Sultan, Muhammad II, took Constantinople, attacking it from the

European side with a great number of guns. This event caused intense

excitement in Europe and there was talk of a crusade, but the day of

the crusades was past.

In the course of the sixteenth century the Ottoman Sultans conquered

Bagdad, Hungary, Egypt and most of North Africa, and their fleet made

them masters of the Mediterranean. They very nearly took Vienna, and

they exacted it tribute from the Emperor. There were but two items to

offset the general ebb of Christian dominion in the fifteenth century.

One was the restoration of the independence of Moscow (1480); the other

was the gradual reconquest of Spain by the Christians. In 1492,

Granada, the last Moslem state in the peninsula, fell to King Ferdinand

of Aragon and his Queen Isabella of Castile.

But it was not until as late as 1571 that the naval battle of Lepanto

broke the prick of the Ottomans, and restored the Mediterranean waters

to Christian ascendancy.

XLIX

THE INTELLECTUAL REVIVAL OF THE EUROPEANS

Throughout the twelfth century there were many signs that the European

intelligence was recovering courage and leisure, and preparing to take

up again the intellectual enterprises of the first Greek scientific

enquiries and such speculations as those of the Italian Lucretius. The

causes of this revival were many and complex. The suppression of

private war, the higher standards of comfort and security that followed

the crusades, and the stimulation of men’s minds by the experiences of

these expeditions were no doubt necessary preliminary conditions. Trade

was reviving; cities were recovering ease and safety; the standard of

education was arising in the church and spreading among laymen. The

thirteenth and fourteenth centuries were a period of growing,

independent or quasi-independent cities; Venice, Florence, Genoa,

Lisbon, Paris, Bruges, London, Antwerp, Hamburg, Nuremberg, Novgorod,

Wisby and Bergen for example. They were all trading cities with many

travellers, and where men trade and travel they talk and think. The

polemics of the Popes and princes, the conspicuous savagery and

wickedness of the persecution of heretics, were exciting men to doubt

the authority of the church and question and discuss fundamental

things.

We have seen how the Arabs were the means of restoring Aristotle to

Europe, and how such a prince as Frederick II acted as a channel

through which Arabic philosophy and science played upon the renascent

European mind. Still more influential in the stirring up of men’s

ideas were the Jews. Their very existence was a note of interrogation

to the claims of the church. And finally the secret, fascinating

enquiries of the alchemists were spreading far and wide and setting men

to the petty, furtive and yet fruitful resumption of experimental

science.

And the stir in men’s minds was by no means confined now to the

independent and well educated. The mind of the common man was awake in

the world as it had never been before in all the experience of mankind.

In spite of priest and persecution, Christianity does seem to have

carried a mental ferment wherever its teaching reached. It established

a direct relation between the conscience of the individual man and the

God of Righteousness, so that now if need arose he had the courage to

form his own judgment upon prince or prelate or creed.

As early as the eleventh century philosophical discussion had begun

again in Europe, and there were great and growing universities at

Paris, Oxford, Bologna and other centres. There medieval “schoolmen”

took up again and thrashed out a series of questions upon the value and

meaning of words that were a necessary preliminary to clear thinking in

the scientific age that was to follow. And standing by himself because

of his distinctive genius was Roger Bacon (circa 1210 to circa 1293), a

Franciscan of Oxford, the father of modern experimental science. His

name deserves a prominence in our history second only to that of

Aristotle.

His writings are one long tirade against ignorance. He told his age it

was ignorant, an incredibly bold thing to do. Nowadays a man may tell

the world it is as silly as it is solemn, that all its methods are

still infantile and clumsy and its dogmas childish assumptions, without

much physical danger; but these peoples of the middle ages when they

were not actually being massacred or starving or dying of pestilence,

were passionately convinced of the wisdom, the completeness and

finality of their beliefs, and disposed to resent any reflections upon

them very bitterly. Roger Bacon’s writings were like a flash of light

in a profound darkness. He combined his attack upon the ignorance of

his times with a wealth of suggestion for the increase of knowledge.

In his passionate insistence upon the need of experiment and of

collecting knowledge, the spirit of Aristotle lives again in him.

“Experiment, experiment,” that is the burthen of Roger Bacon.

Yet of Aristotle himself Roger Bacon fell foul. He fell foul of him

because men, instead of facing facts boldly, sat in rooms and pored

over the bad Latin translations which were then all that was available

of the master. “If I had my way,” he wrote, in his intemperate fashion,

“I should burn all the books of Aristotle, for the study of them can

only lead to a loss of time, produce error, and increase ignorance,” a

sentiment that Aristotle would probably have echoed could he have

returned to a world in which his works were not so much read as

worshipped—and that, as Roger Bacon showed, in these most abominable

translations.

AN EARLY PRINTING PRESS

AN EARLY PRINTING PRESS

_(From an old print) _

Throughout his books, a little disguised by the necessity of seeming to

square it all with orthodoxy for fear of the prison and worse, Roger

Bacon shouted to mankind, “Cease to be ruled by dogmas and authorities;

_look at the world!_” Four chief sources of ignorance he denounced;

respect for authority, custom, the sense of the ignorant crowd, and the

vain, proud unteachableness of our dispositions. Overcome but these,

and a world of power would open to men: —

“Machines for navigating are possible without rowers, so that great

ships suited to river or ocean, guided by one man, may be borne with

greater speed than if they were full of men. Likewise cars may be made

so that without a draught animal they may be moved _cum impetu

inœstimable_, as we deem the scythed chariots to have been from which

antiquity fought. And flying machines are possible, so that a man may

sit in the middle turning some device by which artificial wings may

beat the air in the manner of a flying bird.”

So Roger Bacon wrote, but three more centuries were to elapse before

men began any systematic attempts to explore the hidden stores of power

and interest he realized so clearly existed beneath the dull surface of

human affairs.

But the Saracenic world not only gave Christendom the stimulus of its

philosophers and alchemists; it also gave it paper. It is scarcely too

much to say that paper made the intellectual revival of Europe

possible. Paper originated in China, where its use probably goes back

to the second century B.C. In 751 the Chinese made an attack upon the

Arab Moslems in Samarkand; they were repulsed, and among the prisoners

taken from them were some skilled papermakers, from whom the art was

learnt. Arabic paper manuscripts from the ninth century onward still

exist. The manufacture entered Christendom either through Greece or by

the capture of Moorish paper-mills during the Christian reconquest of

Spain. But under the Christian Spanish the product deteriorated sadly.

Good paper was not made in Christian Europe until the end of the

thirteenth century, and then it was Italy which led the world. Only by

the fourteenth century did the manufacture reach Germany, and not until

the end of that century was it abundant and cheap enough for the

printing of books to be a practicable business proposition. Thereupon

printing followed naturally and necessarily, for printing is the most

obvious of inventions, and the intellectual life of the world entered

upon a new and far more vigorous phase. It ceased to be a little

trickle from mind to mind; it became a broad flood, in which thousands

and presently scores and hundreds of thousands of minds participated.

One immediate result of this achievement of printing was the appearance

of an abundance of Bibles in the world. Another was a cheapening of

school-books. The knowledge of reading spread swiftly. There was not

only a great increase of books in the world, but the books that were

now made were plainer to read and so easier to understand. Instead of

toiling at a crabbed text arid then thinking over its significance,

readers now could think unimpeded as they read. With this increase in

the facility of reading, the reading public grew. The book ceased to be

a highly decorated toy or a scholar’s mystery. People began to write

books to be read as well as looked at by ordinary people. They wrote

in the ordinary language and not in Latin. With the fourteenth century

the real history of the European literature begins.

A Short History of the World · 第 17 / 29 段