and Rome. Their chief god, as you might guess, was the god of war, and
they called him Woden. Woden was also the god of the sky. He was like
the two Greek gods, Jupiter and Mars, put together. Woden was supposed
to live in a wonderful palace in the sky called Valhalla, and many
tales are told of the wonderful things he did and of the adventures he
had. Wednesday, which was once Wodensday, is named after him. That is
why there is a letter “d” in this word, although we don’t pronounce it.
After Woden, Thor was the next most important god. He was the god
of thunder and lightning. He carried a hammer with which he fought
great giants who lived in the far-off cold lands and were called
“ice-giants.” Thursday, which was once Thorsday, is named after him.
Another god was named Tiu, and from his name we get Tuesday, and
another Freya, from whom we get Friday, so that four out of seven of
our days are named after Teuton gods, in spite of the fact that we
are--most of us--Christians and no longer believe in these gods.
Of the other three days of the week, Sunday and Monday of course are
named after the sun and moon, and Saturday is named after a Greek god,
Saturn.
From these wild people all fair-haired people to-day are said to
be descended--the English, French, German, and such of us whose
forefathers are English or French or German.
About the Year 400 A.D. these Teuton toughs were becoming particularly
troublesome to the Romans. They began to push their way down into the
northern part of the Roman Empire, and after a few years the Romans
could hold them back no longer. Two of these Teuton gangs, or tribes,
as they were called, went over into Britain, and the Romans who were
living there found it wisest to get out, go back to Rome, and leave the
country to the Teutons.
These tribes who settled in Britain were known as Angles and Saxons. So
the country came to be called the land of the Angles, or, for short,
“Angle-land.” After the words “Angle-land” were said over for many
years, they became “England,” which is what we call the country to-day.
The people of England are still known by the full name “Anglo-Saxons,”
and this is the name by which we call everything descended from these
old Teuton tribes of Angles and Saxons who settled in Britain about 400
A.D.
Another gang or tribe called the Vandals went into Gaul. Gaul is where
France is now. Then they kept on down into Spain, stealing, smashing,
and burning like Mug Mike’s gang of toughs on Hallowe’en. They crossed
over by boats into Africa. They injured or destroyed everything they
came upon. So to-day when any one damages or destroys property
wickedly, we call him a vandal. If you cut up your desk, tear your
books, or scratch names on walls or fences, you, too, are a vandal.
A tribe called the Franks followed the Vandals into Gaul, and there
they stayed, giving the name “France” to that country.
The Teutons north of Italy were the Goths. They had a leader by the
name of Alaric. He was the “Mug Mike” of the gang of Goths. Alaric and
his Goths crossed over the mountains into Italy and robbed or destroyed
everything of value they could lay their hands on. They then entered
Rome and carried away whatever they wanted, and the Romans could not
stop them. But the worst was yet to come.
[Illustration]
40
White Toughs and Yellow Toughs Meet the Champions of the World
The Teutons were wild toughs but they were white.
Farther north of the Teutons and to the east was a tribe of people who
were still more savage and fierce. They were called Huns. They lived
far off in the forests and wilds way beyond the Teutons, in a part of
the country that no one then knew much about.
The Huns were, we think, not white as the Teutons were, but yellow.
Even the Teutons themselves, fierce fighters though they were, feared
the Huns, and it was chiefly because they were afraid of them and
wanted to get away from them as far as they could that the Teutons went
over the borders into the Roman Empire. It was much easier to fight the
Romans than it was to fight the Huns.
The Huns seemed more like wild beasts than human beings. Their leader
was a dreadful creature named Attila. He boasted that nothing ever grew
again where his horse had trod. He and his Huns had conquered and laid
waste the country all the way from the East almost to Paris. At last
the Teutons made a stand against them and fought a great battle at a
place not so very far from Paris, a place called Châlons.
The Teutons fought desperately; they fought madly. It was white toughs
against yellow toughs, and the Huns were beaten. It was lucky they
were beaten, for if they had won, these dreadful wild, yellow people
might have conquered and ruled the world. The white toughs were
bad enough, but the yellow would have been worse. So the battle of
Châlons, 451 A.D., is written in history in capital letters and large
figures--CHÂLONS 451.
After Attila and his Huns had been beaten at Châlons they left the
Teutons alone, but they then went after the Romans. Turning back they
went down into Italy, where there was no one able to stop them. They
destroyed everything as they moved on. The people of the country didn’t
even attempt to fight. They thought the Huns were monsters and simply
fled before them. So on to Rome the Huns went.
Now, there was at Rome at this time a Pope named Leo I, which means
Lion. Leo, of course, was neither a soldier nor a fighting man, but he
and his cardinals and bishops went out from Rome to meet Attila. They
were not clad in armor, and none of them carried any weapons with which
to fight. The pope and those with him were dressed in gorgeous robes
and richly colored garments. It seemed as if they must be slaughtered
by Attila and his Huns like lambs before wolves.
But something strange happened when Attila and the pope met; exactly
what no one knows. Perhaps Attila was awed by the pomp and splendor of
those Christians. Perhaps he feared what Heaven might do to him if he
destroyed those holy beings who had come out to meet him as if from
heaven. At any rate, he did not destroy them, nor did he enter Rome,
but turned about and left Italy, left it for good and all, and he and
his Huns returned to the unknown land to the north from which they had
come.
Now that the dreaded Attila was out of the way, the Vandals in Africa
saw their chance to attack Rome. Attila had barely left Italy before
the Vandals crossed over from Africa and sailed up the Tiber to Rome.
They captured the city without any difficulty, helped themselves to
everything they wanted, and carried away all Rome’s treasures.
Poor old Rome! She was at last beaten, beaten for good! She had been
the Champion for a great many years. But now all her strength was gone.
She was old and weak and no longer able to defend herself against
these gangs of toughs. Rome’s last emperor had the high-sounding name
“Romulus Augustulus,” the same name as the first king, Romulus, with
the addition of Augustulus, which means the little Augustus. But in
spite of his high-sounding name, Romulus Augustulus could do nothing.
He was like the little boy living in the marble house on the avenue,
the little boy with curls and a velvet suit, whom Mug Mike caught out
one day and--you can guess the rest. “Great Cæsar’s ghost!” How Cæsar’s
ghost must have felt!
It was the Year 476 that Rome was beaten. The western half of the
empire, of which Rome had been the capital, broke up into pieces, and
the pieces were ruled over by Teutons. Like Humpty Dumpty, Rome had had
a great fall, and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t
put it together again. Only the eastern part, of which Constantinople
was the capital, still went on. This eastern half was not conquered by
the barbarians, and it still kept going for nearly a thousand years
longer until--but wait till we come to that time in history.
People speak of this date, 476, as the end of Ancient History. After
Ancient History, there was a time over five hundred years long which
was known as the Dark Ages--the Night-time of History. The Dark Ages
lasted from 476 to about 1000 A.D. These centuries are called the Dark
Ages, because during that long time the Teutons, those uneducated
toughs who were unable even to read and write, were the chief people in
Europe, and they ruled over those who had once been the educated and
cultured people.
The Teutons, though such rough toughs, barbarians as they were called,
were, strange to say, quick to learn many things from the Romans whom
they had conquered. Even before they had conquered Rome, most of the
Teutons had already become Christians.
Of course they had to learn the Latin language in order to talk to
their subjects. But they changed the Latin a good deal and mixed it
with their own language. This mixture of their own language with the
Latin at last became Italian. The Teutons who went to Spain in a like
way mixed their language with the Latin, and this mixture was Spanish.
In France the mixture of the two languages became French.
In Britain, however, the Anglo-Saxons would have nothing to do with
the Romans and would not use the Roman language but kept their own
language. After a while this language of the Anglo-Saxons was called
English. The Anglo-Saxons also kept their own religion, and they
worshiped Thor and Woden and their other gods until about one hundred
years later, or about 600 A.D.
At that time some English slaves were being sold in the slave-market
at Rome. They were very handsome. The pope saw them and asked who they
were.
“They are Angles,” he was told.
“Angles!” exclaimed he; “they are handsome enough to be ’angels,’ and
they should certainly be Christians.”
So he sent some missionaries to England to convert the English;
to change Angles to Angels. So at last the English, too, became
Christians.
41
Nightfall
It was 500 o’clock by History Time.
Night was coming on.
The Dark Ages had begun.
At least, that is what people call it now. But people didn’t call it so
then.
Crazy people don’t think they are crazy.
Ignorant people don’t think they are ignorant.
So the Dark Ages didn’t think they were dark.
The ignorant Teutons were ruling over the pieces of the Western Empire.
They couldn’t read; they couldn’t write.
They didn’t know much except to fight.
They didn’t know ’twas dark as night.
At Constantinople, however, a Roman was still ruling over the Eastern
Empire. This Roman was named Justinian. Now, up to this time there had
been a great many rules or laws by which the people were governed. But
there were so many of these rules and they were so mixed up that one
law would tell you you could do one thing and another would tell you
you couldn’t. It was as if your mother said you could stay up till nine
o’clock to-night and your father said you must go to bed at eight. It
was hard for people to tell, therefore, what one must do and what one
must not do.
In order to untangle this snarl, Justinian had a set of laws made for
the government of his people, and many of these were so good and so
just that they are still the law to-day. If you notice that Justinian
begins with “Just,” this will help you to remember that he was the one
who made _just_ laws.
Another thing Justinian did that has lasted to the present time. He
built in Constantinople a very beautiful church called Santa Sophia.
Though it is no longer a church, it is still standing after all these
years and is a beautiful sight to see. Still another thing he did
which you could never guess. It had nothing to do with war or law or
buildings.
Travelers from the Far East, where China now is, had brought back
tales of a wonderful caterpillar that wound itself up with a fine,
thin thread over a mile long, and they told stories of how the Chinese
unwound this thread and wove it into cloth of the finest and smoothest
kind. This thread, as you might guess, was called silk, and the
caterpillar that made it was called the silkworm. People in Europe
had seen this beautiful silk cloth, but how it was made had been a
mystery--a secret. They thought it so wonderfully beautiful that it was
supposed to have been made by fairies or elves or even sent down from
heaven. Justinian found out about these caterpillars and had men bring
these silkworms into Europe so that his people also might make silk
cloth and have silk ribbons and fine silk garments, and therefore we
give him the honor of starting the manufacture of silk in Europe.
Outside of Justinian’s empire the ignorant Teutons were living. It took
them nearly a thousand years to learn as much as any school-boy now
knows, and the first thing they learned was not reading, nor writing,
but the Christian religion.
About the same time that Justinian lived there was a king in France
named Clovis. Clovis, of course, was a Teuton and belonged to the tribe
called the Franks, which gave the name “France” to that country. Clovis
believed in Thor and Woden as all of his people did. Clovis had a wife
named Clotilda, whom he loved very dearly. Clotilda, though a Teuton,
thought all the fighting and cruelty which her people seemed to like
was wrong. She had heard about the religion of Christ, which did not
believe in quarreling and fighting, and she thought she would like to
be a Christian. So she was baptized. Then she tried to persuade her
husband, Clovis, to become a Christian, also.
Clovis was just then going to war--the very thing the Christians
preached against. But, just to please his wife, he promised her, if he
won the battle, he would become a Christian. He did win, and he kept
his word and was baptized and had his soldiers baptized, also. Clovis
made Paris his capital, and Paris is still the capital of France.
It was about this same time, also, that a king named Arthur was ruling
in England. Many stories and poems have been written about him, which,
however, we know are fairy-tales and not history. But although we know
these stories are not true, they are, nevertheless, interesting--like
those tales that are told about the heroes of the Trojan War.
It was said that there was a sword called Excalibur stuck so fast in a
stone that no one could draw it out except the man who should be king
of England. All the nobles had tried without success to draw the sword,
when one day a young boy named Arthur pulled it out with the greatest
ease, and he was accordingly proclaimed king.
King Arthur chose a company of the nobles to rule with him, and as they
sat with him at a Round Table, they were known as the Knights of the
Round Table. Tennyson, the great English poet, has written in verse an
account of all the doings of King Arthur and his knights in a long poem
called “The Idylls of the King,” which you will have to read yourself,
for we must go on to the next story.
[Illustration]
42
“Being Good”
What do you mean by “being good”?
The Teutons thought “being good” meant being brave.
The Athenians thought whatever was beautiful was “good.”
The Stoics thought “not caring” was “being good.”
The Epicureans thought having a good time was “being good.”
The martyrs thought “being good” meant suffering and dying for Christ’s
sake.
Ever since the time of the martyrs, Christians who wanted to be very,
very good indeed, went off into the wilderness and lived by themselves.
They wished to be far away from other people, so that they could spend
all their time praying and thinking holy thoughts. This, they believed
was “being good.”
One of the strangest of these men who wanted to get away from others
was named St. Simeon Stylites. He built for himself a pillar or column
fifty feet high, and on the top of it he lived with room only to sit
but not to lie down. There on the top he lived for many years, day
and night, winter and summer, while the sun shone on him and the rain
rained on him, and he never came down at all. He could be reached only
by a ladder, which his friends used to bring him food. High up out of
the world, he thought he could best lead a holy life. That was his idea
of “being good” although we should think such a person simply crazy.
In the course of time, however, men who wanted to lead holy lives,
instead of living alone as they had done at first, gathered in groups
and built themselves homes. These men were called monks, and the house
where they lived was known as a monastery or abbey. The head monk of
such an abbey was called an abbot, and he ruled over the other monks
like a father over his children, giving them orders and punishing them
when he thought they needed it.
In the five hundreds there lived an Italian monk named Benedict. He
believed very strongly that one must work if he was to be holy, that
work was a necessary part of being holy. He thought, also, that monks
should have no money of their own, for Christ had said in the Bible,
“If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the
poor.” So Benedict started a club or order of monks for those people
who would agree to three things:
The first thing they were to agree to was to have no money.
The second thing was to obey.
The third thing was not to marry.
Monks who joined this club were called Benedictines.
Now, you might think there would have been hardly any one who would
promise for life three such things as to have no money, to obey
the abbot--no matter what he told them to do--and never to marry.
Nevertheless, there were a great many men in every country of Europe
who did become Benedictines.
Usually the monks lived in little bare rooms like prison cells, and ate
their very simple meals together at a single table in a room called the
refectory. They prayed at sunrise and sunset, and many times during the
day besides, and they even woke up at midnight to say their prayers.
But praying was not all they had to do. Work of every kind they were
obliged to do, and they did it joyfully, whether the work was scrubbing
floors or digging in the garden.
Oftentimes the monastery was situated in a barren or swampy spot on
land that had been given the monks because it was no good, or even
worse than no good, dangerously unhealthy. But the monks set to work
and drained off the water, tilled the soil, and made the waste places
bloom like the rose. Then they raised vegetables for their table,
fodder for their horses and cattle and sheep. Everything they ate or
used or needed, they raised or made.
But they did not only the rougher hand-work; they did fine hand-work,
too. Printing had not been invented at this time; all books had to be
written by hand, and the monks were the ones who did this. They copied
the old books in Latin and Greek. Sometimes one monk would slowly read
the book to be copied, and several other monks at one time would copy
what he dictated. In this way a number of copies would be made.
[Illustration: Monk writing a manuscript.]
The pages of the books were not made of paper but of calfskin or
sheepskin, called vellum, and this vellum was much stronger and lasted
much longer than paper.
These old books which the monks wrote were called “manuscripts,”
which means “hand-written.” Many of these may now be seen in museums
and libraries. Some of these manuscripts have been beautifully
hand-printed with loving care and the initial letters and borders
ornamented with designs of flowers and vines and birds and pictures in
red and gold and other colors. If the monks hadn’t done this copying,
many of the old books would have been lost and unknown to us.
The monks also kept diaries, writing down from day to day and year
to year an account of the important things that happened. These old
diaries, or chronicles, as they were called, tell us the history of the
times. As there were then no newspapers, if these chronicles had not
been written we should not know what went on at that time.
The monks were the best educated people of those days, and they taught
others--both young and old--the things they themselves knew. The
monasteries were also inns for travelers, for any one who came and
asked for lodging was received and given food and a place to sleep,
whether he had any money to pay or not.
The monks helped the poor and needy. The sick, too, came to the
monastery to be treated and taken care of, so that a monastery was
often something like a hospital, too. Many people who had received such
help or attention made rich gifts to the monasteries, so they became
very wealthy, although the monks could own not so much as a spoon for
themselves.
So you see the monks were not merely holy men; they were most useful
citizens. They were in many ways more nearly everything that Christ
would have wished than perhaps any one large group of men has ever been
since. They were really “GOOD FOR SOMETHING.”
[Illustration]
43
A Camel-Driver
Every hundred years is called a century, but a thing that seems a
little strange is this--the hundred years from 500 to 600 is called the
_sixth_ century, not the fifth; the hundred years from 600 to 700 is
called the _seventh_ century, not the sixth; and so on. Thus 615, 625,
650, and so on are all _seventh_ century.
Well, we have now reached the seventh century--the six hundreds, and we
are to hear of a man who was to make a change in the whole world. He
was neither a Roman nor a Greek nor a Frank nor a Goth nor a Briton. He
was neither a king nor a general, but only a--
What do you suppose?
A CAMEL-DRIVER!
and he lived in a little town called Mecca in far-off Arabia. His name
was Mohammed. Mohammed went on an errand for a wealthy Arabian lady,
and the lady fell in love with him. Although he was a poor camel-driver
and only a servant and she was rich, they were married. They lived
happily together, and nothing remarkable happened until Mohammed was
forty years old.
[Illustration: Map of Saracenic empire showing Mecca, Medina,
Constantinople, Tours, Cordova, Bagdad, Jerusalem, also Europe.]
Mohammed had been in the habit of going out to a cave in the desert to
study and think. One day when he visited this cave he had a dream, or
a vision, as it is called when such things happen in the daytime when
one is awake. In this vision, so Mohammed said, the angel Gabriel had
appeared and told him that God, whom the Arabs called Allah, said he
must go forth and teach the people a new religion.
So Mohammed went home to his wife and told her what had happened, and
she believed his story and became his first follower. Mohammed then
went forth as he had been directed and taught his relatives and friends
what he said Allah had told him, and they, too, believed what he said
and became his followers.
But when he set out to teach others, who were not his friends nor
relatives, they simply thought him crazy and perhaps dangerous. So they
got together and planned to get rid of him--even kill him if necessary.
But he heard what they were planning, and so he packed up all his
belongings and, with his wife and those who believed in him, left the
city of Mecca and fled to the town of Medina, a little way off. This
was in 622--Six-Two-Two--and was called the Hegira, which in the Arabic
language means “flight.”
I have told you this exact date, for later as you will see this
religion, which Mohammed started, grew bigger and bigger, and now
at this very day there are one third as many people who believe in
Mohammed and the religion he started as there are who believe in Christ
and the religion He started; that is, there are now one third as many
Mohammedans in the world as there are Christians. The Mohammedans began
to count from the Hegira, 622, calling it the Year 1 as the Christians
did from the Birth of Christ, as the Greeks did from the First
Olympiad, as the Romans did from the Founding of Rome. So the Greeks,
the Romans, the Mohammedans, and the Christians each had a different
Year 1.
This new religion was called Islam. From time to time Mohammed received
messages which he said came from God. Mohammed himself could neither
read nor write, and so he had some one else write down these messages
on palm-leaves. There were so many of these messages that when they
were finally gathered together they made a big book. This book is
called the “Koran,” and it is the Mohammedan Bible and tells what
Mohammedans must do and what they must not do.
[Illustration: Muezzin on minaret calling to prayer.]