A SHORT HISTORY OF THE WORLD BY H. G. WELLS
46.THE CRUSADES AND THE AGE OF PAPAL DOMINION
It is interesting to note that Charlemagne corresponded with the Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid, the Haroun-al-Raschid of the _Arabian Nights. It is recorded that Haroun-al-Raschid sent ambassadors from Bagdad—which had now replaced Damascus as the Moslem capital—with a splendid tent, a water clock, an elephant and the keys of the Holy Sepulchre. This latter present was admirably calculated to set the Byzantine Empire and this new Holy Roman Empire by the ears as to which was the proper protector of the Christians in Jerusalem.
These presents remind us that while Europe in the ninth century was
still a weltering disorder of war and pillage, there flourished a great
Arab Empire in Egypt and Mesopotamia, far more civilized than anything
Europe could show. Here literature and science still lived; the arts
flourished, and the mind of man could move without fear or
superstition. And even in Spain and North Africa where the Saracenic
dominions were falling into political confusion there was a vigorous
intellectual life. Aristotle was read and discussed by these Jews and
Arabs during these centuries of European darkness. They guarded the
neglected seeds of science and philosophy.
North-east of the Caliph’s dominions was a number of Turkish tribes.
They had been converted to Islam, and they held the faith much more
simply and fiercely than the actively intellectual Arabs and Persians
to the south. In the tenth century the Turks were growing strong and
vigorous while the Arab power was divided and decaying. The relations
of the Turks to the Empire of the Caliphate became very similar to the
relations of the Medes to the last Babylonian Empire fourteen centuries
before. In the eleventh century a group of Turkish tribes, the Seljuk
Turks, came down into Mesopotamia and made the Caliph their nominal
ruler but really their captive and tool. They conquered Armenia. Then
they struck at the remnants of the Byzantine power in Asia Minor. In
1071 the Byzantine army was utterly smashed at the battle of Melasgird,
and the Turks swept forward until not a trace of Byzantine rule
remained in Asia. They took the fortress of Nicæa over against
Constantinople, and prepared to attempt that city.
The Byzantine emperor, Michael VII, was overcome with terror. He was
already heavily engaged in warfare with a band of Norman adventurers
who had seized Durazzo, and with a fierce Turkish people, the
Petschenegs, who were raiding over the Danube. In his extremity he
sought help where he could, and it is notable that he did not appeal to
the western emperor but to the Pope of Rome as the head of Latin
Christendom. He wrote to Pope Gregory VII, and his successor Alexius
Comnenus wrote still more urgently to Urban II.
This was not a quarter of a century from the rupture of the Latin and
Greek churches. That controversy was still vividly alive in men’s
minds, and this disaster to Byzantium must have presented itself to the
Pope as a supreme opportunity for reasserting the supremacy of the
Latin Church over the dissentient Greeks. Moreover this occasion gave
the Pope a chance to deal with two other matters that troubled western
Christendom very greatly. One was the custom of “private war” which
disordered social life, and the other was the superabundant fighting
energy of the Low Germans and Christianized Northmen and particularly
of the Franks and Normans. A religious war, the Crusade, the War of
the Cross, was preached against the Turkish captors of Jerusalem, and a
truce to all warfare amongst Christians (1095). The declared object of
this war was the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre from the unbelievers.
A man called Peter the Hermit carried on a popular propaganda
throughout France and Germany on broadly democratic lines. He went clad
in a coarse garment, barefooted on an ass, he carried a huge cross and
harangued the crowd in street or market-place or church. He denounced
the cruelties practised upon the Christian pilgrims by the Turks, and
the shame of the Holy Sepulchre being in any but Christian hands. The
fruits of centuries of Christian teaching became apparent in the
response. A great wave of enthusiasm swept the western world, and
popular Christendom discovered itself.
Such a widespread uprising of the common people in relation to a single
idea as now occurred was a new thing in the history of our race. There
is nothing to parallel it in the previous history of the Roman Empire
or of India or China. On a smaller scale, however, there had been
similar movements among the Jewish people after their liberation from
the Babylonian captivity, and later on Islam was to display a parallel
susceptibility to collective feeling. Such movements were certainly
connected with the new spirit that had come into life with the
development of the missionary- teaching religions. The Hebrew
prophets, Jesus and his disciples, Mani, Muhammad, were all exhorters
of men’s individual souls. They brought the personal conscience face
to face with God. Before that time religion had been much more a
business of fetish, of pseudoscience, than of conscience. The old kind
of religion turned upon temple, initiated priest and mystical
sacrifice, and ruled the common man like a slave by fear. The new kind
of religion made a man of him.
The preaching of the First Crusade was the first stirring of the common
people in European history. It may be too much to call it the birth of
modern democracy, but certainly at that time modern democracy stirred.
Before very long we shall find it stirring again, and raising the most
disturbing social and religious questions.
Certainly this first stirring of democracy ended very pitifully and
lamentably. Considerable bodies of common people, crowds rather than
armies, set out eastward from France and the Rhineland and Central
Europe without waiting for leaders or proper equipment to rescue the
Holy Sepulchre. This was the “people’s crusade.” Two great mobs
blundered into Hungary, mistook the recently converted Magyars for
pagans, committed atrocities and were massacred. A third multitude with
a similarly confused mind, after a great pogrom of the Jews in the
Rhineland, marched eastward, and was also destroyed in Hungary. Two
other huge crowds, under the leadership of Peter the Hermit himself,
reached Constantinople, crossed the Bosphorus, and were massacred
rather than defeated by the Seljuk Turks. So began and ended this
first movement of the European people, as people.
Next year (1097) the real fighting forces crossed the Bosphorus.
Essentially they were Norman in leadership and spirit. They stormed
Nicæa, marched by much the same route as Alexander had followed
fourteen centuries before, to Antioch. The siege of Antioch kept them
a year, and in June 1099 they invested Jerusalem. It was stormed after
a month’s siege. The slaughter was terrible. Men riding on horseback
were splashed by the blood in the streets. At nightfall on July 15th
the Crusaders had fought their way into the Church of the Holy
Sepulchre and overcome all opposition there: blood-stained, weary and
“sobbing from excess of joy” they knelt down in prayer.
Originally on the arch of Trajan at Constantinople, the Doge Dandalo V
took them after the Fourth Crusade, to Venice, whence Napoleon I
removed them to Paris, but in 1815 they were returned to Venice.
During the Great War of 1914-18 they were hidden away for fear of air
raids.
Immediately the hostility of Latin and Greek broke out again. The
Crusaders were the servants of the Latin Church, and the Greek
patriarch of Jerusalem found himself in a far worse case under the
triumphant Latins than under the Turks. The Crusaders discovered
themselves between Byzantine and Turk and fighting both. Much of Asia
Minor was recovered by the Byzantine Empire, and the Latin princes were
left, a buffer between Turk and Greek, with Jerusalem and a few small
principalities, of which Edessa was one of the chief, in Syria. Their
grip even on these possessions was precarious, and in 1144 Edessa fell
to the Moslim, leading to an ineffective Second Crusade, which failed
to recover Edessa but saved Antioch from a similar fate.
In 1169 the forces of Islam were rallied under a Kurdish adventurer
named Saladin who had made himself master of Egypt. He preached a Holy
War against the Christians, recaptured Jerusalem in 1187, and so
provoked the Third Crusade. This failed to recover Jerusalem. In the
Fourth Crusade (1202-4) the Latin Church turned frankly upon the Greek
Empire, and there was not even a pretence of fighting the Turks. It
started from Venice and in 1204 it stormed Constantinople. The great
rising trading city of Venice was the leader in this adventure, and
most of the coasts and islands of the Byzantine Empire were annexed by
the Venetians. A “Latin” emperor (Baldwin of Flanders) was set up in
Constantinople and the Latin and Greek Church were declared to be
reunited. The Latin emperors ruled in Constantinople from 1204 to 1261
when the Greek world shook itself free again from Roman predominance.
The twelfth century then and the opening of the thirteenth was the age
of papal ascendancy just as the eleventh was the age of the ascendancy
of the Seljuk Turks and the tenth the age of the Northmen. A united
Christendom under the rule of the Pope came nearer to being a working
reality than it ever was before or after that time.
In those centuries a simple Christian faith was real and widespread
over great areas of Europe. Rome itself had passed through some dark
and discreditable phases; few writers can be found to excuse the lives
of Popes John XI and John XII in the tenth century; they were
abominable creatures; but the heart and body of Latin Christendom had
remained earnest and simple; the generality of the common priests and
monks and nuns had lived exemplary and faithful lives. Upon the wealth
of confidence such lives created rested the power of the church. Among
the great Popes of the past had been Gregory the Great, Gregory I
(590-604) and Leo III (795-816) who invited Charlemagne to be Cæsar and
crowned him in spite of himself. Towards the close of the eleventh
century there arose a great clerical statesman, Hildebrand, who ended
his life as Pope Gregory VII (1073- 1085). Next but one after him came
Urban II (1087-1099), the Pope of the First Crusade. These two were
the founders of this period of papal greatness during which the Popes
lorded it over the Emperors. From Bulgaria to Ireland and from Norway
to Sicily and Jerusalem the Pope was supreme. Gregory VII obliged the
Emperor Henry IV to come in penitence to him at Canossa and to await
forgiveness for three days and nights in the courtyard of the castle,
clad in sackcloth and barefooted to the snow. In 1176 at Venice the
Emperor Frederick (Frederick Barbarossa), knelt to Pope Alexander III
and swore fealty to him.
The great power of the church in the beginning of the eleventh century
lay in the wills and consciences of men. It failed to retain the moral
prestige on which its power was based. In the opening decades of the
fourteenth century it was discovered that the power of the Pope had
evaporated. What was it that destroyed the naive confidence of the
common people of Christendom in the church so that they would no longer
rally to its appeal and serve its purposes?
The first trouble was certainly the accumulation of wealth by the
church. The church never died, and there was a frequent disposition on
the part of dying childless people to leave lands to the church.
Penitent sinners were exhorted to do so. Accordingly in many European
countries as much as a fourth of the land became church property. The
appetite for property grows with what it feeds upon. Already in the
thirteenth century it was being said everywhere that the priests were
not good men, that they were always hunting for money and legacies.
The kings and princes disliked this alienation of property very
greatly. In the place of feudal lords capable of military support,
they found their land supporting abbeys and monks and nuns. And these
lands were really under foreign dominion. Even before the time of Pope
Gregory VII there had been a struggle between the princes and the
papacy over the question of “investitures,” the question that is of who
should appoint the bishops. If that power rested with the Pope and not
the King, then the latter lost control not only of the consciences of
his subjects but of a considerable part of his dominions. For also the
clergy claimed exemption from taxation. They paid their taxes to Rome.
And not only that, but the church also claimed the right to levy a tax
of one-tenth upon the property of the layman in addition to the taxes
he paid his prince.
The history of nearly every country in Latin Christendom tells of the
same phase in the eleventh century, a phase of struggle between monarch
and Pope on the issue of investitures and generally it tells of a
victory for the Pope. He claimed to be able to excommunicate the
prince, to absolve his subjects from their allegiance to him, to
recognize a successor. He claimed to be able to put a nation under an
interdict, and then nearly all priestly functions ceased except the
sacraments of baptism, confirmation and penance; the priests could
neither hold the ordinary services, marry people, nor bury the dead.
With these two weapons it was possible for the twelfth century Popes to
curb the most recalcitrant princes and overawe the most restive
peoples. These were enormous powers, and enormous powers are only to
be used on extraordinary occasions. The Popes used them at last with a
frequency that staled their effect. Within thirty years at the end of
the twelfth century we find Scotland, France and England in turn under
an interdict. And also the Popes could not resist the temptation to
preach crusades against offending princes—until the crusading spirit
was extinct.
It is possible that if the Church of Rome had struggled simply against
the princes and had had a care to keep its hold upon the general mind,
it might have achieved a permanent dominion over all Christendom. But
the high claims of the Pope were reflected as arrogance in the conduct
of the clergy. Before the eleventh century the Roman priests could
marry; they had close ties with the people among whom they lived; they
were indeed a part of the people. Gregory VII made them celibates; he
cut the priests off from too great an intimacy with the laymen in order
to bind them more closely to Rome, but indeed he opened a fissure
between the church and the commonalty. The church had its own law
courts. Cases involving not merely priests but monks, students,
crusaders, widows, orphans and the helpless were reserved for the
clerical courts, and so were all matters relating to wills, marriages
and oaths and all cases of sorcery, heresy and blasphemy. Whenever the
layman found himself in conflict with the priest he had to go to a
clerical court. The obligations of peace and war fell upon his
shoulders alone and left the priest free. It is no great wonder that
jealousy and hatred of the priests grew up in the Christian world.
Never did Rome seem to realize that its power was in the consciences of
common men. It fought against religious enthusiasm, which should have
been its ally, and it forced doctrinal orthodoxy upon honest doubt and
aberrant opinion. When the church interfered in matters of morality it
had the common man with it, but not when it interfered in matters of
doctrine. When in the south of France Waldo taught a return to the
simplicity of Jesus in faith and life, Innocent III preached a crusade
against the Waldenses, Waldo’s followers, and permitted them to be
suppressed with fire, sword, rape and the most abominable cruelties.
When again St. Francis of Assisi (1181-1226) taught the imitation of
Christ and a life of poverty and service, his followers, the
Franciscans, were persecuted, scourged, imprisoned and dispersed. In
1318 four of them were burnt alive at Marseilles. On the other hand
the fiercely orthodox order of the Dominicans, founded by St. Dominic
(1170-1221) was strongly supported by Innocent III, who with its
assistance set up an organization, the Inquisition, for the hunting of
heresy and the affliction of free thought.
So it was that the church by excessive claims, by unrighteous
privileges, and by an irrational intolerance destroyed that free faith
of the common man which was the final source of all its power. The
story of its decline tells of no adequate foemen from without but
continually of decay from within.