How The Friars Fared Among The Tartars


The sea of Mongol invasion which, pouring in the thirteenth century from

the vast steppes of Asia, overflowed all Eastern Europe, and was checked

in its course only by the assembled forces of the German nations, filled

the world of the West with inexpressible terror. For a time, after

whelming beneath its flood Russia, Poland, and Hungary, it was rolled

back, but the terror remained. At any moment these savage horsemen might
br /> return in irresistible strength and spread the area of desolation to the

western seas. The power of arms seemed too feeble to stay them; the

power of persuasion, however, might not be in vain, and the pope, as the

spiritual head of Europe, felt called upon to make an effort for the

rescue of the Christian world.



Tartar hordes were then advancing through Persia towards the Holy Land,

and to these, in the forlorn hope of checking their course, he sent as

ambassadors a body of Franciscan friars composed of Father Ascelin and

three companions. It was in the year 1246 that these papal envoys set

out, armed with full powers from the head of the Church, but sadly

deficient in the worldly wisdom necessary to deal with such truculent

infidels as those whom they had been sent to meet.



Ascelin and his comrades journeyed far through Asia in search of a

Tartar host, and at length found one on the northern frontier of Persia.

Into the camp of the barbarians the worthy Franciscan boldly advanced,

announcing himself as an ambassador from the pope. To his surprise, this

announcement was received with contempt by the Tartars, who knew little

and cared less for the object of his deep veneration. In return he

showed his feeling towards the infidels in a way that soon brought his

mission into a perilous state.



He was refused an audience with the Mongol general unless he would

perform the ko-tou, or three genuflections, an act which he and his

followers refused as an idolatrous ceremony which would scandalize all

Christendom. Finally, as nothing less would be accepted, they, in their

wise heads, thought they might consent to perform the ko-tou, provided

the general and all his army would become Christians. This folly capped

the climax. The Tartars, whom they had already irritated, broke into a

violent rage, loaded the friars with fierce invectives, and denounced

them and their pope as Christian dogs.



A council was called to decide what to do with these insulting

strangers. Some suggested that the friars should be flayed alive, and

their skins, stuffed with hay, sent to the pope. Others wished to keep

them till the next battle with the Christians, and then place them in

front of the army as victims to the god of war. A third proposition was

to whip them through the camp and then put them to death. But Baithnoy,

the general, had no fancy for delay, and issued orders that the whole

party should at once be executed.



In this frightful predicament, into which Ascelin and his party had

brought themselves, a woman's pity came to the rescue. Baithnoy's

principal wife endeavored to move him to compassion; but, finding him

obdurate, she next appealed to his interest. To violate in this way the

law of nations would cover him with disgrace, she said, and stay the

coming of many who otherwise would seek his camp with homage and

presents. She reminded him of the anger of the Great Khan when, on a

former occasion, he had caused the heart of an ambassador to be plucked

out and had ridden around the camp with it fastened to his horse's tail.

By these arguments, reinforced with entreaties, she induced him to spare

the lives of the friars.



They were advised to visit the court of the Great Khan, but Ascelin had

seen as much as he relished of Tartar courts, and refused to go a step

farther except by force. He was then desired, as he had been so curious

to see a Tartar army, to wait until their expected reinforcements

arrived. He protested that he had seen enough Tartars already to last

him the rest of his life; but, despite his protest, he was detained for

several months, during which the Tartars amused themselves by annoying

and vexing their visitors. At length, after having been half starved,

frequently threatened with death, and insulted in a hundred ways, they

were set free, bearing letters to the pope ordering him to come in

person and do homage to Genghis Khan, the Son of God.



At the same time that Ascelin set out for the south, another party,

headed by John Carpini, set out for the north, to visit the Tartars then

in Russia. Here they were startled by the first act demanded of them,

they being compelled to pass between two large fires as a purification

from the suspicion of evil. On coming into the presence of Bathy, the

general, they, more terrified perhaps than Ascelin, did not hesitate to

fall upon their knees. To heighten their terrors, two of them were sent

to the court of the Great Khan, in the heart of Tartary, the other two

being detained on some pretext. The journey was a frightful one. With no

food but millet, no drink but melted snow, pushing on at a furious

speed, changing horses several times a day, passing over tracts strewn

with human bones, and the weather through part of their journey being

bitterly cold, they at length reached the court of the Mongols on July

22, 1246.



They arrived at an interesting period. The election of Kujak, a new

khan, was about to take place, and, in addition to great Tartar lords

from all quarters of the Mongol empire, ambassadors from Russia, Persia,

Bagdad, India, and China were at hand with presents and congratulations.

The assembled nobles, four thousand in all, dazzled Carpini with their

pomp and magnificence. The coronation was attended with peculiar

ceremonies, and a few days afterwards audience was given to the

ambassadors, that they might deliver their presents. Here the friars

were amazed at the abundance and value of the gifts, which consisted of

satin cloths, robes of purple, silk girdles wrought with gold, and

costly skins. Most surprising of all was a "sun canopy" (umbrella) full

of precious stones, a long row of camels covered with Baldakin cloth,

and a "wonderful brave tent, all of red purple, presented by the

Kythayans" (Chinese), while near by stood five hundred carts "all full

of silver, and of gold, and of silk garments."



The friars were now placed in an embarrassing position by being asked

what presents they had to give. They had so little that they thought it

best to declare "that they were not of ability so to do." This failure

was well received, and throughout their visit they were treated with

great respect, the khan cajoling them with hints that he proposed

publicly to profess Christianity.



These flattering hopes came to a sudden end when the great Mongol ruler

ordered the erection of a flag of defiance against the Roman empire, the

Christian Church, and all the Christian kingdoms of the West, unless

they would do homage to him; and with this abrupt termination to their

embassy they were dismissed. After "travailing all winter long,"

sleeping on snow without shelter, and suffering other hardships, they

reached Europe in June, 1247, where they were "rejoiced over as men that

had been risen from death to life."



Carpini was the first European to approach the borders of China, or

Cathay, as it was then called, and the story he told about that

mysterious empire of the East, gathered from the Tartars, was of much

interest, and, so far as it went, of considerable accuracy. He was also

the first to visit the court of those terrible warriors who had filled

the world with dismay, and to bring to Europe an account of their

barbaric manners and customs.



Shortly after (in 1253) a friar named Rubruquis, with two companions,

was sent to Tartary by Louis IX. of France to search for Prester John,

an imaginary Christian potentate supposed to reign in the centre of

Asia, to visit Sartach, a Tartar chief also reported a Christian, and to

teach the doctrines of Christianity to all the Tartars he should find.

Rubruquis did his work well, and, while failing to find Prester John or

to convert any of the Tartars, he penetrated to the very centre of the

Mongol empire, visited Karakorum, the capital of the Great Khans, and

brought back much valuable information, giving a clear, accurate, and

intelligent account of the lands he had seen and the people he had met,

with such news of distant China as he could obtain without actually

crossing the Great Wall.



After his visit information concerning these remote regions ceased until

the publication of the remarkably interesting book of Marco Polo, the

first to write of China from an actual visit to its court. The story of

his visit must be left for a later tale.



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