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GIBRALTER.

TERRACE OF ST. PETER’S, ROME.

Spain. During the period of which we have been treating, Spain seemed less a part of Europe than any other country in it. The greater part of it still continued under the dominion of the Moors, and apparently with advantage. ‘This period,’ says Mr. Tytler, ‘from the middle of the eight to the middle of the tenth century, is a most brilliant era of Arabian magnificence. Whilst Haroun al Raschid made Bagdad illustrious by the splendor of the arts and sciences, the Moors of Cordova vied with their brethren of Asia in the same honorable pursuits, and were undoubtly at this period the most enlightened of the states in Europe. Under a series of able princes, they gained the highest reputation, both in arts and arms, of all the nations of the West.’ And yet these Eastern conquerors seem to have had their troubles as well as others. A race of powerful nobles among them, as in the other countries of Europe, distracted the country, and made effective government impossible. The Christian part of the population, still possessed of several provinces in the north, might have taken advantage of such a state of things for repossessing themselves of their lost country; but civil dissension was still greater among themselves; and Christian princes readily formed alliances with the Moors, if they saw a prospect of weakening an immediate enemy by that means, forgetting that the common foe still remained to harass them. But the detail of these numerous and petty contentions need not detain us longer; nor does the history of Spain assume any importance till towards the conclusion of the fifteenth century, when the united arms of Ferdinand and Isabella expelled the Moors for ever from the country.

GENERAL STATE OF EUROPE IN THE ELEVENTH CENTURY.

Before the end of the tenth century, Europe had reached a point of darkness and degradation beyond which it seemed impossible to go. Though long nominally converted to the Christian religion, the nations of Europe may be said to have scarcely exhibited, up to this period, a single distinctive mark of what men understand by Christian civilization. ‘The barbarous nations,’ says Dr. Robertson, ‘when converted to Christianity, changed the object, not the spirit of their religious worship. They endeavored to conciliate the favor of the true God by means not unlike to those which they had employed in order to appease their false deities. Instead of aspiring to sanctity and virtue, which alone can render men acceptable to the great Author of order and of excellence, they imagined that they satisfied every obligation of duty by a scrupulous observance of external ceremonies. Religion, according to their conception of it, comprehended nothing else; and the rites by which they persuaded themselves that they should gain the favor of Heaven, were of such a nature as might have been expected from the rude ideas of the ages which devised and introduced them. They were either so unmeaning as to be altogether unworthy of the Being to whose honor they were consecrated, or so absurd as to be a disgrace to reason and humanity. Charlemagne in France, and Alfred the Great in England, endeavored to dispel this darkness, and gave their subjects a slight glimpse of light and knowledge. But the ignorance of the age was too powerful for their efforts and institutions. The darkness returned, and settled over Europe more thick and heavy than before.’ The clergy were the only body of men among whom any knowledge or learning now remained; and this superiority they employed to continue, if not to deepen, the degradation into which society had fallen. The superstitious belief that moral crimes could be expiated by presents to the Deity, if not originated by them, at least found them its strenuous defenders, for the reason that a gift to God meant, in plainer language, a solatium to the church. The priests would have made men believe that avarice was the first attribute of the Deity, and that the saints made a traffic of their influence with Heaven. Hence Clovis is said to have jocularly remarked, that ‘though St. Martin served his friends very well, he also made them pay well for his trouble.’

Persons in the highest ranks and most exalted stations could neither read nor write. Of the clergy themselves, many of them did not understand the Breviary which it was their duty to recite; and some of them, it is asserted, could scarcely read it. Those among the laity who had to express their assent in writing, did so by a sign of the cross attached to the document (sometimes also by a seal); and to this day, in consequence, we speak of signing a document when we subscribe our names.

The evils of the feudal system, too, had by this time become excessive and insupportable. Every petty chief was a king in his own dominions, and his vassals were his subjects, if indeed they should not be called slaves. These barons made laws of their own, held courts of their own, coined money in their own names, and levied war at their own pleasure against their enemies; and these enemies were not unfrequently their kings. Indeed the kings of these times can be looked upon in no other light than as superior lords, receiving a nominal and empty homage for lands which, in the fictitious language of feudal law, were said to be held of the crown. In these circumstances, what might we expect to be the condition of the great body of the people? They were either actual slaves, or exposed to so many miseries, arising from pillage and oppression, that many of them made a voluntary surrender of their liberty in exchange for bread and protection from the feudal lords. There was no people, as that term is now understood. ‘There was nothing morally in common,’ says Guizot, ‘between the lord and the serfs; they formed part of his domains, and were his property; under which designation were comprised all the rights that we at present call rights of public sovereignty, as well as the privileges of private property; he having the right of giving laws, of imposing taxes, and of inflicting punishment, as well as that of disposing and selling. In fact, as between the lord and the laborers on his domain, there were no recognized laws, no guarantees, no society, at least so far as may be predicated of any state in which men are brought into contact.’ In what way society rose above so many accumulated evils, and light sprang from so much darkness, we shall now endeavor to show. The most remarkable and the most lasting influence, beyond all question, was that exerted by the Crusades.

THE CRUSADES.

‘It is natural to the human mind,’ says Dr. Robertson, ‘to view those places which have been distinguished by being the residence of any celebrated personage, or the scene of any great transaction, with some degree of delight and veneration. To this principle must be ascribed the superstitious devotion with which Christians, from the earliest ages of the church, were accustomed to visit that country which the Almighty had selected as the inheritance of his favorite people, and in which the Son of God had accomplished the redemption of mankind. As this distant pilgrimage could not be performed without considerable expense, fatigue, and danger, it appeared the more meritorious, and came to be considered as an expiation for almost every crime. An opinion which spread with rapidity over Europe about the close of the tenth and beginning of the eleventh century, and which gained universal credit, wonderfully augmented the number of credulous pilgrims, and increased the ardor with which they undertook this useless voyage. The thousand years mentioned by St. John [Rev. xx. 2, 3, 4] were supposed to be accomplished, and the end of the world to be at hand. A general consternation seized mankind; many relinquished their possessions, and, abandoning their friends and families, hurried with precipitation to the Holy Land, where they imagined that Christ would quickly appear to judge the world.

While Palestine continued subject to the caliphs, they had encouraged the resort of pilgrims to Jerusalem, and considered this as a beneficial species of commerce, which brought into their dominions gold and silver, and carried nothing out of them but relics and consecrated trinkets. But the Turks having conquered Syria about the middle of the eleventh century, pilgrims were exposed to outrages of every kind from these fierce barbarians. This change happening precisely at the juncture when the panic terror which I have mentioned rendered pilgrimages most frequent, filled Europe with alarm and indignation. Every person who returned from Palestine related the dangers he had encountered in visiting the holy city, and described with exaggeration the cruelty and vexations of the infidel Turks.

Among the most notorious of those who had returned with these accounts, was a monk known by the name of Peter the Hermit. By all accounts this individual seems to have been a weak-minded and contemptible being. He is represented as running from city to city, and from kingdom to kingdom, bareheaded, with naked arms and legs, and bearing aloft a ponderous crucifix in his hand, imploring and preaching with an enthusiastic madness on the necessity of wresting the Holy Land from the hands of the infidels. In a more enlightened age, Peter the Hermit would probably have been confined as a troublesome lunatic; in this, however, he was not only allowed to go on, but was encouraged and abetted in his career. The ambitious Hildebrande had expressed a strong desire to send armed forces from Europe to exterminate the Mohammedans from Palestine, in order that another country might be brought under his spiritual subjection; and Urban II, who at this time occupied the chair of St. Peter, warmly seconded the efforts of the enthusiastic monk. Nor was Peter’s success small. Vast multitudes proclaimed themselves ready to engage in the undertaking. Two great councils of the church, one of them held at Placentia, and the other at Clermont, in Auvergne, attended by prelates, princes, and immense multitudes of the common people, declared enthusiastically for the war (1095). The pope himself attended at the last, and Peter and he having both addressed the multitude, they all exclaimed, as if impelled by an immediate inspiration, ‘It is the will of God! it is the will of God!’ These words were thought so remarkable, that they were afterwards employed as the motto on the sacred standard, and came to be looked upon as the signal of battle and rendezvous in all the future exploits of the champions of the cross. Persons of all ranks now flew to arms with the utmost ardor. The remission of penance, the dispensation of those practices which superstition imposed or suspended at pleasure, the absolution of all sins, and the assurance, of eternal felicity, were the rewards held out by the church to all who joined the enterprise; and ‘to the more vulgar class,’ says Mr. Hallam, ‘were held out inducements which, though absorbed in the overruling fanaticism of the first Crusade, might be exceedingly efficacious when it began to flag. During the time that a Crusader bore the cross, he was free from suits for his debts, and the interest of them was entirely abolished; he was exempted, in some instances at least, from taxes, and placed under the protection of the church, so that he could not be impleaded in any civil court, except in criminal charges or questions relating to land.’

It was in the spring of the year 1096, that Peter set out for Judea, at the head of a promiscuous assemblage of 80,000 men, with sandals on his feet, a rope about his waist, and every other mark of monkish austerity. Soon after, a more numerous and better disciplined force of 200,000 followed, including some able and experienced leaders. Godfrey of Bouillon, Robert, Duke of Normandy (son of William the Conqueror of England), the Counts of Vermendois, Toulouse, and Blois, are a few of the more illustrious. The progress of this immense mass of human beings on their journey was marked by misery and famine. They had vainly trusted to Heaven for a supernatural supply of their wants, and in their disappointment they had plundered all that came in their way. ‘So many crimes and so much misery,’ says Mr. Hallam, ‘have seldom been accumulated in so short a space, as in the three years of the first expedition;’ and another historian says that a ‘fresh supply of German and Italian vagabonds,’ received on the way, were even guilty of pillaging the churches. It is certain that before the hermit reached Constantinople, the number of his forces had dwindled down to 20,000. Alexis Comnenus, then emperor of Constantinople, who had applied to the states of Europe for assistance, without much hope of obtaining it, in order that he might be enabled to resist a threatened attack by the Turks upon himself, was surprised and terrified at the motley group of adventurers who had now reached the shore of his dominions. He readily afforded them the means for transporting themselves across the Bosphorus, and performed the same friendly office to the larger force which followed under Godfrey and others; glad, apparently, to have the barbarians of the north, as his subjects called them, out of his dominions. The Sultan Solyman met the army of the hermit, if army it could be called, and cut the greater part of it to pieces on the plains of Nicea. The second host proved more successful. In spite of their want of discipline, their ignorance of the country, the scarcity of provisions, and the excess of fatigue, their zeal, their bravery, and their irresistible force, enabled them twice to overthrow old Solyman, to take his capital Nice, and after an obstinate resistance, the city of Antioch also (1098). At length (1099) they reached Jerusalem, much diminished in numbers, and broken in spirit; but with persevering assiduity they proceeded to lay siege to the city, and in six weeks they became its masters. Their cruel conduct to the inhabitants attests the barbarous feelings of their hearts. ‘Neither arms defended the valiant, nor submission the timorous; no age nor sex was spared; infants on the breast were pierced by the same blow with their mothers, who implored for mercy; even a multitude of ten thousand persons who surrendered themselves prisoners and who were promised quarters, were butchered in cold blood by these ferocious conquerers. The streets of Jerusalem were covered with dead bodies. The triumphant warriors, after every enemy was subdued and slaughtered, turned themselves, with sentiments of humiliation and contrition, towards the holy sepulchre. They threw aside their arms, still streaming with blood; they advanced with reclined bodies and naked feet and heads to that sacred monument; they sung anthems to Him who had purchased their salvation by His death and agony; and their devotion, enlivened by the presence of the place where He had suffered, so overcame their fury, that they dissolved in tears, and bore the appearance of every soft and tender sentiment. So inconsistent is human nature with itself, and so easily does the most effeminate superstition ally both with the most heroic courage and with the fiercest barbarity!’

With a becoming foresight, the Crusaders established a Christian kingdom in the heart of Palestine; and at the head of it, by universal consent was placed Godfrey, whose goodness and justice had signalized him, and gained him respect in the midst of the general wickedness. The pope, however, was too eager to enjoy the triumph to which he had looked forward, and sending an ignorant and obtruding ecclesiastic to assume this command, Godfrey retired; and thus was lost undoubtedly the best chance that Europeans ever had of really posessing the Holy Land. The Turks had now time to recover their strength and renew their attacks: they did so: many of the Crusaders had in the meantime returned home, and those of them who remained, surrounded and menaced by such foes, at last implored aid from Christendom. There the spirit which had been raised by Peter the Hermit was far from being extinguished; and another, more eloquent and more learned than Peter—​namely, St. Bernard—​had arisen to keep alive the flame of devotion. Roused by his preachings, Europe sent forth a second Crusade (1147). It consisted of 200,000 French, Germans, and English, in two divisions, the first led on by Conrad III of Germany, and the second by Louis VII of France. Strangely enough, both these leaders permitted themselves to be drawn into a snare by false guides, furnished by the Greek emperor; and both armies, one after another, were withdrawn amidst the rocks of Laodicea, and after being nearly starved by famine, they were cut to pieces by the Sultan of Iconium. This Crusade proved the most disastrous of them all. ‘Thousands of ruined families,’ says Russell, ‘exclaimed against St. Bernard for his deluding prophecies: he excused himself by the example of Moses, who, like him, he said, had promised to conduct the Israelites into a happy country, and yet saw the first generation perish in the desert.’

It was shortly after this period that the illustrious Saladin appeared (1180). Born among an obscure Turkish tribe, this individual fixed himself by his bravery and conduct on the throne of Egypt and began to extend his conquest in the East. The still existing, though wretchedly-supported kingdom of the Christians in Palestine, proving an obstacle to the progress of his arms, Saladin directed his power against it, and assisted by the treachery of the Count of Tripoli, he completely overcame the Christians in battle (1187). The holy city itself fell into his hands after a feeble resistance; and except some cities on the coast, nothing remained to the Christians of all that a century before, it cost Europe so much to acquire. The followers of the cross, however, were not yet wholly disheartened; and a third great Crusade was entered into before the end of the twelfth century.

The three greatest sovereigns of Europe—​Fredrick Barbarossa of Germany, Philip Augustus of France, and Richard Cœur de Lion of England—​all took part in the scheme. The forces of Fredrick were earliest in the field. He had passed through the unfriendly territories of the Greek empire, crossed the Hellespont, and defeated the infidels in several battles, before Richard or Philip had stirred from home. The Christians of the East were beginning to look with hope and pride on so great assistance; but they seemed fated to be unfortunate. Fredrick died (1190) from having thrown his body, heated by exertion, into the cold river of Cydnus; and his army, like the others that had gone before it, dwindled into nothing. The united armies of Richard and Philip followed. In their progress, the feelings of envy and national hatred rose above the object which had brought them together. Philip returned, disgusted or dismayed, shortly after they reached their destination; and Richard was thus left alone to uphold the glory of European arms. He did it nobly. With a mixed army of French, German, and English soldiers, amounting in all to 30,000, Richard performed feats of valor which have not been surpassed in the history of any time or nation. On the plains of Ascalon, a tremendous battle was fought with Saladin, and that brave and great man was defeated, and 40,000 of his soldiers are said to have been left dead upon the field of battle. But this conquest was unavailing, and the followers of Richard began to fear that there would be no end to their struggles. The zeal which had brought so many of them from their homes, and sustained them so long in absence, at last abated. Saladin readily concluded a treaty by which Christians might still be permitted to visit the tomb of Christ unmolested, and Richard left the Holy Land for ever. It is due to the memory of Saladin (who did not long survive this period) to state that, after he made himself master of Jerusalem, he never molested the Christians in their devotions—​a circumstance which, by contrast, reflects infinite disgrace on the cruel barbarities of the first Crusaders. In his last will he ordered alms to be distributed among the poor, without distinction of Jew, Christian, or Mohammedan; intending by this bequest to intimate that all men are brethren, and that when we would assist them, we ought not to inquire what they believe, but what they feel—​an admirable lesson to Christians, though from a Mohammedan. But the advantages in science, in moderation, and humanity, seem at this period to have been all on the side of the Saracens.

There were no more great Crusades. Considerable bands of private adventurers still continued to move eastward; but disaster and disgrace attended every effort, and Europe at last became disheartened when the bones of two millions of her sons lay whitened on the plains of Asia, and so little had been accomplished. Nevertheless, in the year 1202, Baldwin, Count of Flanders, was able to raise another considerable army for the rescue of the Holy Sepulchre; but having reached Constantinople at a time when there was a dispute in the succession to the throne, he readily laid aside the project of the Crusade, took part in the quarrel, and in the course of five months he was himself the emperor. The citizens of Venice in Italy, who had lent their vessels for this enterprise, shared in the triumphs of the piratical Crusaders: they obtained the Isle of Candia, or Crete. Baldwin, however, was soon driven from the throne, and murdered; though the Latins, as his successors from the West were called, kept possession of Constantinople for fifty-seven years.

At this period (1227) a great revolution took place in Asia. Ghenghis Khan, at the head of a body of Tartars, broke down from the north upon Persia and Syria, and massacred indiscriminately Turks, Jews, and Christians, who opposed them. The European settlements in Palestine must soon have yielded to these invaders, had not their fate been for a while retarded by the last attempt at a Crusade under Louis IX of France. This prince, summoned, as he believed, by Heaven, after four years’ preparation set out for the Holy Land with his queen, his three brothers, and all the knights of France (1248). His army began their enterprise, and we may say ended it also, by an unsuccessful attack on Egypt. The king went home, and reigned prosperously and wisely for thirteen years; but the same frenzy again taking possession of him, he embarked on a Crusade against the Moors in Africa, where his army was destroyed by a pestilence, and he himself became its victim (1270).

Before the end of the thirteenth century (1291) the Christians were driven out of all their Asiatic possessions. ‘The only common enterprise,’ says Robertson, ‘in which the European nations were engaged, and which they all undertook with equal ardor, remains a singular monument of human folly.’

INSTITUTION OF CHIVALRY, ETC.

Among the most remarkable institutions of the middle ages was that of Chivalry. The institution was certainly not the result of caprice, nor a source of unmixed extravagance, as it has been represented, but an effort of human nature to express its feelings of love, honor and benevolence, at a time when the spirit of liberty was extinguished, and religion had become debased. The feudal state was a state of perpetual war, rapine, and anarchy, during which the weak and unarmed were often exposed to injuries. Public protective law scarcely had an existence; and in these circumstances assistance came oftenest and most effectually from the arms of private friends. It was the same feeling of courage, united to a strong sense of duty, which both gave rise to chivalry, and led such multitudes to join the Crusades. Chivalry existed before them, and it survived them. Those whose devoted themselves to a life of chivalry were called knights, and sometimes knight-errants, in allusion to their habits of wandering from one country to another in search of helpless objects, which their generosity might find a pleasure in relieving and defending. Admission to the order of knighthood was long reckoned an honor of the highest sort: and to fulfill the vows which entrants took upon them might well be considered so. They were bound, ‘by God, by St. Michael, and St. George,’ to be loyal, brave, and hardy; to protect the innocent, to redress the injuries of the wronged; and, above all, to uphold and defend the characters of women. The institution of chivalry is sometimes thought to have thrown an air of ridiculousness upon everything connected with the softer sex, and some of the vagaries of knight-errantry gave sufficient countenance to such a supposition; but on the whole we are bound to rate its beneficial influences in elevating the female character high indeed, when we contrast the gross and groveling situation held by the sex in former times with the high and virtuous emotions that we have learned to associate in modern times with the name of woman. If the whole of this effect is not to be ascribed to chivalry, not a little of it must certainly be so; nor do its beneficial effects end here. The feelings of honor, courtesy, and humanity, which distinguished it, spread themselves into other parts of conduct. War, in particular, was conducted with less ferocity, and humanity came to be deemed as necessary to an accomplished soldier as courage. The idea of a gentleman is wholly the production of chivalry; and during the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, a sense of honor and a refinement of manners towards enemies sprung up, which have extended to modern times, and form a distinguishing feature of them.

The history of the Crusades has carried us over nearly two centuries of the history of Europe. But Europe might be said, almost without exaggeration, to have been then in Asia. It was certainly not the scene of any transaction of importance during all that period. The numerous quarrels, both public and private, which had before agitated the several countries, and had constituted all their history, gave way, by mutual consent, as well as by the orders of the church, to the one idea which then reigned supreme among them. Society was thus unconsciously the means of permitting some of those powerful and pacific principles to come into play, which were soon to give it a new destiny. The absence of so many great barons during the time of the Crusades, was a means of enabling the common people, who have hitherto lived as their slaves, to raise themselves in public standing and estimation; while the possessions of many of these barons, by sale or the death of their owners without heirs, reverted to the sovereigns. In this way the power of the people and of royalty advanced together, and both at the expense of the class of nobility. The people were not unwilling to exchange the mastery of inferiors for that of a superior; and the kings, on their part, looked on this rising power of the people with pleasure, as it offered a shield to protect them from the insolence of the nobles. In these circumstances boroughs began to flourish. This was a new element in the progress of civilization. Men who had hitherto skulked in castles, and had sacrificed their liberties and their lives for bread and protection from isolated chiefs, now found that, by a union among themselves, they might secure bread by industry, and protection and liberty by mutual aid. Multitudes, therefore, forsook their feudal subservience to enjoy independent citizenship. Villeins, or laborers, joyfully escaped, to take their place on a footing of equality with freemen; and sovereigns found means to pass a law that if a slave should take refuge, in any of the new cities, and be allowed to remain there unclaimed for a twelvemonth, he had thereby become free, and was henceforth a member of the community. Another improvement which kings were able to introduce about this time was the gradual abolition of minor courts of justice, which barons had previously held in their several domains, and their getting public and universal law administered by judges of their own appointment. Even single combat, the practice most inveterately adhered to of any among the ancient nobles, became less frequent and less honorable. The more revolting and absurd features of it were wholly abolished, though the great absurdity, and indeed the great crime itself, cannot be said to have become totally extinct, even up to our own day, when we recollect that the barbarous practice of duelling is still permitted to exist.

The effect, however, produced by the Crusades, which proved greatest in its consequences, though perhaps it was the most unlooked for at the time, was the rise of commerce. The first of these expeditions had journeyed to Constantinople by land; but the sufferings were so great, that all the rest were induced to go by sea. The Italian cities of Venice, Genoa, and Pisa, furnished the vessels which conveyed them; and the sums of money obtained by the freight of so many and so great armies were immense. This, however, was but a small part of what the Italian citizens gained by the expeditions to the Holy Land. The Crusaders contracted with them for military stores and provisions; and any of the Asiatic possessions of value, which came temporarily into the hands of the Christians, became emporiums of commerce for them. The sweet reward of labor was thus first felt for ages in Europe. New arts were brought from the East, and many of those natural productions of the warmer climates were first introduced into the West, which have since afforded the materials of a lucrative and extended commerce. We will allude in a separate section to the brilliant career of several of the Italian Republics.

In these views we represent the fairest side of the picture. There were yet many obstacles in the way of a complete and harmonious evolution of the principles of civilization. But the elements all seemed now to have acquired existence, and time only was required to consolidate and strengthen them.

FROM THE CRUSADES TO THE MIDDLE OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY—​RISE OF SOME NEW POWERS.

The most remarkable general feature of European society about the time of the Crusades was the papal influence. Between the pontiffs and the German emperors there was kept up a perpetual struggle for power; but for a long time the advantage was almost always with the popes. The treatment which some of the emperors received from them was extremely humiliating. Frederick Barbarossa was compelled to kiss the feet of his holiness, Alexander III, and to appease him by a large cession of territory, after having indignantly denied his supremacy, and refused the customary homage. Henry VI, while doing homage on his knees, had his imperial crown kicked off by Pope Celestinus, who, however, made some amends for this indignity by the gift of Naples and Sicily. Henry had expelled the Normans from these territories, which now became appendages of the German empire (1194). In the beginning of the thirteenth century, Pope Innocent III was imagined to have permanently established the powers of the Holy See, and its right to confer the imperial crown; but this proved far from being the case. In the time of Frederick II, who succeeded Otho IV (1212), the old contentions rose to more than the usual height, and two factions sprung up in Italy, known by the names of Guelphs and Ghibellines, the former maintaining the supremacy of the popes, and the latter that of the emperors. Frederick maintained the contest which now arose between himself and the popes with much spirit; but on his death (1250) the splendor of the empire was for a considerable time obscured. At length Rodolph of Hapsbourg, a Swiss baron, was elected emperor (1274). Rodolph became the founder of the House of Austria, and ruled with both vigor and moderation. His son Albert I was the means of causing the inhabitants of Switzerland to assert and obtain their liberty, by his attempting to bind them in subjection to one of his children, and then using force to compel them. In the pass of Morgarten, a small army of four or five hundred of these brave mountaineers defeated an immense host of Austrians (1315). Sixty pitched battles, it is said, were fought between the contending parties; but the spirit of William Tell, who appeared at this time, and of his patriot countrymen, rose above all attempts to enslave them; and the Swiss cantons secured a freedom which their descendants enjoy to this day. The further history of Germany, for nearly a century, is not politically important. Disputes between the emperors and the papacy still continued, though the balance of advantage was now oftener against the church.

About the beginning of the fifteenth century, the great papal schism, as it has been called, took place. It arose from there being no fewer than three different claimants for the chair of St. Peter—​Gregory XII, who was owned pope by the Italian states; Benedict XIII, by France; and Alexander V, a native of Candia, by a number of the cardinals. This schism proved very hurtful to the authority of the church, though in that respect it benefited the interests of society, and contributed to open men’s eyes. The appearance of John Huss at this time aided in producing that effect. Huss proclaimed the same opinions as the great English reformer Wickliffe. He was branded of course by the clergy as a heretic and propagator of sedition. The general council of the church, held at Constance (1414), concocted no fewer than thirty-nine articles in which Huss is said to have erred. Some of the points he denied having professed, and others he offered to support by argument; but his voice was drowned by the clamors of bigotry. His hair was cut in the form of a cross; upon his head was put a paper mitre, painted with the representation of three devils; and he was delivered over to the secular judge, who condemned both him and his writings to the flames. A similar fate shortly after befell his disciple, Jerome of Prague, who is said to have exhibited the eloquence of an apostle and the constancy of a martyr at the stake (1416). In revenge for these cruelties, the Hussites of Bohemia kept up a war with the empire for twenty years; and it was only after having their right to express their opinions acknowledged that they desisted. The great schism lasted for many years. A Neapolitan archbishop, named Bari, was elected and deposed by the resident cardinals at Rome within a few months. Boniface IX and Innocent VI were each temporarily his successors. The result of the lengthened dispute may be stated to be, that papal authority was greatly weakened; the government of the church was brought down among a class of ecclesiastics that had never before tasted the sweets of power; and future popes were obliged to resort to such questionable practices for the maintenance of their dignity, that men in general began to lose respect for their sanctity, and a foundation was laid for changes which it fell to the lot of Luther and others to effect.

The period which witnessed these transactions was remarkable for the continued wars between France and England. In the beginning of the twelfth century, the famous dispute for supremacy arose between Thomas-à-Becket, archbishop of Canterbury, and Henry II, which ended in the death of the prelate (1171), but in the triumph of his principles. The beginning of the thirteenth century is memorable in English history, as having witnessed the granting of the Magna Charta by King John; and towards the conclusion of it appeared Edward I, whose name is associated with the first great attempts to subdue the Scots on the part of England. The bravery of Wallace and of others averted that calamity for ever. Wales was not so fortunate; and Ireland had already become a conquered province.

During this period, several of those countries in the north of Europe, which have made a considerable figure in modern history, for the first time attracted attention. The greatest of these was Russia. In the middle of the thirteenth century, the tribes of Tartary made a complete conquest of this country, and for about a hundred years they maintained their supremacy. At length Ivan ascended the throne of Moscow (1462), and overcoming the Tartars, established a kingdom of his own, and was able to form an alliance with the Emperor Maximilian of Germany, who did not hesitate to style him brother. This was the first entrance of Russia into European politics.

Before the end of the fourteenth century, the Christian religion had penetrated into Denmark, Sweden, Prussia, and Poland; but it failed in producing any immediate beneficial effect. The political events which took place in these countries, however, were very various at this period, but proved too unimportant in their results to admit of being even outlined here.

THE ITALIAN REPUBLICS—​COMMERCE IN GENERAL.

Among the Italian cities, Venice, at the extremity of the Adriatic, Ravenna, at the south of the mouth of the Po, Genoa, at the foot of the Ligurian mountains, Pisa, towards the mouths of the Arno, Rome, Gaëta, Naples, Amalphi, and Bari, were either never conquered by the Lombards, or were in subjection too short a time to have lost many of their ancient habits and customs. In this way these cities naturally became the refuge of Roman civilization, at a time when other parts of Europe were wading through barbarian darkness. The feudal system never prevailed among them with any force; and several of these and other cities had important privileges conferred upon them by the German emperors at a very early period. Sismondi, the historian of Italy, asserts that Otho I (936) erected some of them into municipal communities, and permitted them the election of their own magistrates. It is certain that, in 991, the citizens of Milan rose in tumult, expelled an archbishop from their city, and were able to establish a qualified right to interfere in future elections. The after-history of Milan is eventful and tragical; but we can only give a short account of it here. In the middle of the twelfth century, Frederick Barbarossa became engaged with the cities of Lombardy, and particularly with it, in extensive and destructive wars. In the year 1162 Milan was finally overcome; the walls and houses were razed from their foundation, and the suffering inhabitants dispersed over other cities, obtaining sympathy in their distress, and communicating their enthusiastic love of freedom in return. The republican form of government was adopted in every considerable town; and before the end of the thirteenth century, there was a knowledge, a power, and an enterprise, among these apparently insignificant republics which all Europe could not match.

The beneficial though unlooked-for effect of the Crusades upon commerce has already been mentioned. During the twelfth and thirteenth centuries the commerce of Europe was almost entirely in the hands of the Italians, more commonly known in those ages by the name of Lombards. The republic of Pisa was one of the first to make known to the world the riches and power which a small state might acquire by the aid of commerce and liberty. Pisa had astonished the shores of the Mediterranean by the number of vessels and galleys that sailed under her flag, by the succor she had given the Crusaders, by the fear she had inspired at Constantinople, and by the conquest of Sardinia and the Balearic Isles. Immediately preceding this period, those great structures which still delight the eye of the traveler—​the Dome, the Baptistry, the Leaning Tower, and the Campo Santo of Pisa had all been raised; and the great architects that spread over Europe in the thirteenth century, had mostly their education here. But unfortunately, the ruin of this glorious little republic was soon to be accomplished. A growing envy had subsisted between it and Genoa during the last two centuries, and a new war broke out in 1282. It is difficult to comprehend how two simple cities could put to sea two such prodigious fleets as those of Pisa and Genoa. Fleets of thirty, sixty-four, twenty-four, and one hundred and three galleys, were successively put to sea by Pisa, under the most skillful commanders; but on every occasion the Genoese were able to oppose them with superior fleets. In August, 1284, the Pisans were defeated in a naval engagement before the Isle of Meloria; thirty-five of their vessels were lost, five thousand persons perished in battle, and eleven thousand became prisoners of the Genoese. After a few further ineffectual struggles, Pisa lost its standing.

The greatest commercial, and altogether the most remarkable city of the Italian republics, was Venice. Secluded from the world, on a cluster of islands in the Adriatic, the inhabitants of this city had taken up their abode in the course of the fifth century, and they boasted themselves to have been independent of all the revolutions which Europe had been undergoing since the fall of the Roman Empire. This might be true to a great extent, though for long it was certainly more the result of their obscurity than their power. By the tenth century, however, the desendants of those fishermen that had first taken refuge here, were able to send fleets abroad which could encounter and overawe both Saracens and Normans. The Venetians had all along kept up a correspondence with Constantinople during the darkest periods of the middle ages. This was greatly renewed and extended about the time of the Crusades. When Constantinople was taken by the Latins (1204), the Venetians, under their doge, or chief magistrate, Henry Dandalo, became possessed of three-eighths of that great city and of the provinces, and Dandalo assumed the singularly accurate title of Duke of Three-Eighths of the Roman Empire. The Venetians greatly increased their share of the spoil by making advantageous purchases from the more needy of the Crusaders. Among the most important of these was the Isle of Candia, which they retained till the middle of the seventeenth century. The idea of a bank took its rise in this city, and an establishment of that nature, simply for the receipt of deposits, is said to have existed in it as soon as the year 1157. But it was not till about a century later that banking, as the term is now understood, began at all to be practised. The merchants of Lombardy and of the south of France began at that time to remit money by bills of exchange and to make profit upon loans. The Italian clergy who had benefices beyond the Alps, found the new method of transmitting money exceedingly convenient; and the system of exacting usury or interest, after experiencing every obstruction from ignorance and bigotry, became a legal part of commerce. In the thirteenth century the government of Venice was entirely republican; but continued wars with Genoa reduced both cities. These wars were all conducted on the seas, and the display of naval strength on both sides seems prodigious, when we reflect on the poor condition of Italy at the present day. Besides these wars for objects of ambition, there were continual jealousies which rose above enlightened views of self-interest, and led to the most disgraceful broils. At the middle of the fourteenth century a battle took place between the rival citizens, in which the Genoese were defeated. Their loss was immense, and in distress and in revenge they gave themselves up to John Visconti, Lord of Milan, then the richest and among the most ambitious of the petty tyrants of Italy, hoping that he would give them the means to reëstablish their fleet and continue the war with the Venetians. He did so, and in another naval engagement, fought in 1354, in the Gulf of Sapienza, the Venetians were entirely defeated. But the Genoese had sacrificed their liberty in their thirst for revenge. Visconti became their master instead of friend. Venice was able to rise above its temporary discomfiture, and during the fifteenth century its fame and power became greater than they had ever been before. In the beginning of the fifteenth century the Venetians captured the town of Padua, and gradually lost their empire of the sea while they acquired possessions on the continent.

Among the most famous of the Italian states at this period was Florence; and its fame was founded, not on arms, but on literature. Like the other Italian cities, however, it owed its first elevation to the commercial industry of its inhabitants. There was a curious division of the Florentine citizens, subsisting about the beginning of the thirteenth century, into companies or arts. These were at first twelve—​seven called the greater arts, and five the lesser; but the latter were gradually increased to fourteen. The seven greater arts were those of lawyers and notaries, of dealers in foreign cloth (called sometimes calimala), of bankers or moneychangers, of woolen-drapers, of physicians and druggists, or dealers in silk, and of furriers. The inferior arts were those of retailers of cloth, butchers, smiths, shoemakers, and builders. It was in the thirteenth century that Florence became a republic, and it maintained its independence for two hundred years. In the beginning of the fifteenth century it became peculiarly distinguished by the revival of Grecian literature and the cultivation of the fine arts. Cosmo de Medici, who lived a citizen of Florence at this time, and was known by the name of the Grand Duke of Tuscany—​descended from a long line of ancestors, whose wealth had been honorably acquired in the prosecution of the greater arts—​possessed more riches than any king in Europe, and laid out more money on works of learning, taste, and charity, than all the princes of his age. The same liberality and munificence distinguished his family for several generations.

The commercial success of the states of Italy induced the inhabitants of northern Europe to attempt similar enterprises. In the thirteenth century the seaports on the Baltic were trading with France and Britain, and with the Mediterranean. The commercial laws of Oleron and Wisbuy (on the Baltic) regulated for many ages the trade of Europe. To protect their trade from piracy, Lubec, Hamburg, and most of the northern seaports, joined in a confederacy, under certain general regulations, termed the League of the Hanse Towns; a union so beneficial in its nature, and so formidable in point of strength, as to have its alliance courted by the predominant powers of Europe. ‘For the trade of the Hanse Towns with the southern kingdoms, Bruges on the coast of Flanders was found a convenient entrepôt, and thither the Mediterranean merchants brought the commodities of India and the Levant, to exchange for the produce and manufactures of the north. The Flemings now began to encourage trade and manufactures, which thence spread to the Brabanters; but their growth being checked by the impolitic sovereigns of those provinces, they found a more favorable field in England, which was destined thence to derive the great source of its national opulence.’

THE TURKS—​FALL OF CONSTANTINOPLE.

We have already seen the weakness of the empire of Constantinople at the time of the Crusades; we have seen the city sacked and the government seized by the champions of the cross. The Greeks regained their empire in the year 1261, but in a mangled and impoverished condition. For nearly two centuries it continued in a similar state. Andronicus, son of Michael Palæologus, who had restored the Greek empire, allowed himself to be persuaded that as God was his protector, all military force was unnecessary; and the superstitious Greeks, regardless of danger, employed themselves in disputing about the transfiguration of Jesus Christ, when their unfortunate situation made it necessary that they should have been studying the art of war, and training themselves to military discipline.

In the meantime, the Turks had become a powerful people. They had embraced the Mohammedan religion long before the time of the Crusades, and proved powerful obstacles to the success of those expeditions. About the beginning of the fourteenth century they established an empire of their own in Asia Minor, under Othman or Ottoman, and to this day the Ottoman Empire is a name given to the dominions of their descendants. By degrees they encroached on the borders of the empire of Constantinople, and they were only prevented from subverting it at a much earlier period than they did, by being called upon to defend themselves from the arms of an Eastern conqueror who arose at this time. Tamerlane, otherwise called Timerbek, was a prince of the Usbek Tartars, and a descendant from Ghenghis Khan. After having overrun Persia, and a great part of India and Syria, this great conqueror was invited by some of the minor princes of Asia, who were suffering under the Ottoman tyranny, to come and protect them. Tamerlane was flattered by the request, and having brought a great army into Phrygia, he was there met by Bajazet, the Ottoman emperor, who readily gave battle, but was defeated and made prisoner (1402). Tamerlane made Samarcand the capital of his empire, and there received the homage of all the princes of the East. Illiterate himself, he was solicitous for the cultivation of literature and science in his dominions; and Samarcand became for a while the seat of learning, politeness, and the arts, but was destined to relapse after a short period into its ancient barbarism. The Turks, after the death of Tamerlane, resumed their purpose of destroying the empire of the East. The honor, or disgrace, as it may be thought, of effecting this, fell to the lot of Mohammed II, commonly surnamed the Great. At the early age of twenty-one, Mohammed projected this conquest. His countrymen had already passed into Europe; they had possessed themselves of the city of Adrianople, and indeed had left nothing of all the empire of the East to the Greeks but the city of Constantinople itself. The preparations made for defense were not such as became the descendants of Romans, and the powers of Europe now looked upon the East with the most supine indifference. The Turks assailed the city both on the land side and on that of the sea; and battering down its walls with their cannon, entered sword in hand, and massacred all who opposed them (1453). Mohammed, like many other ambitious conquerors, showed himself unwilling to destroy unnecessarily. The imperial edifices were preserved, and the churches were converted into mosques; the exercise of their religion was freely allowed to the Christians, and this privilege they have never been deprived of. Constantine (for that was the name of the last, as well as the first emperor of the East) was slain in battle. From the time that it was founded by Constantine the Great, the city had subsisted 1123 years. Mohammed liberally patronized the arts and sciences. He was himself not only a politician, but a scholar, and he invited both artists and men of letters to his capital from the kingdoms of Europe. But the taking of Constantinople had an effect contrary to his wishes: it dispersed the learned Greeks, or Greeks who were called learned, all over Europe; and this, among other things, may be looked upon as a help to the great revival of letters which the fifteenth century witnessed. The taking of Constantinople was followed by the conquest of Greece and Epirus; and Italy might probably have met with a similar fate, but for the fleet of the Venetians, who opposed the arms of Mohammed with considerable success, and even attacked him in Geece; but the contending powers soon after put an end to hostilities by a treaty. By this time Europe was trembling at Mohammed’s success, and was afraid, not without reason, that he might pursue his conquests westward. It was relieved from fear by his death, which took place in 1481. His descendants have continued to our own day to occupy one of the finest countries in Europe; and it was only in the present age that Greece was liberated from their dominion.

RISE OF CIVIL FREEDOM AND SOCIAL IMPROVEMENT.

Civil freedom, as we have seen, dawned first in the great commercial cities of Italy, whence it spread to Germany, Flanders, and Britain. This important change in society may be traced to the institution of free communities of traders, or guilds of merchants; and such confederacies were a necessary consequence of the usurpation and tyranny of the nobles and feudal possessors of the soil. In the eleventh and twelfth centuries the usurpations of the nobility became intolerable; they had reduced the great body of the people to a state of actual servitude. Nor was such oppression the portion of those alone who dwelt in the country, and were employed in cultivating the estates of their masters. Cities and villages found it necessary to hold of some great lord, on whom they might depend for protection, and became no less subject to his arbitrary jurisdiction. The inhabitants were deprived of those rights which, in social life, are deemed most natural and inalienable. They could not dispose of the effects which their own industry had acquired, either by a later will, or by any deed executed during their lives. Neither could they marry, nor carry on lawsuits, without the consent of their lord. But as soon as the cities of Italy began to turn their attention towards commerce, and to conceive some idea of the advantages which they might derive from it, they became impatient to shake off the yoke of their insolent lords, and to establish among themselves such a free and equal government as would render property and industry secure. The Italian cities were the first to emancipate themselves, and their example was followed in other great seats of population, the king of the country in general countenancing the establishment of free communities, in order to gain support against the encroachments of the overgrown power of the barons. The first community of this description formed in Scotland is understood to have been that of Berwick-upon-Tweed, which received its charter from William the Lion. Towns, upon acquiring the right of community, became so many little republics, governed by known and equal laws. The inhabitants being trained to arms, and being surrounded by walls, they soon began to hold the neighboring barons in contempt, and to withstand aggressions on their property and privileges. Another great good, of fully more importance, was produced. These free communities were speedily admitted, by their representatives, into the great council of the nation, whether distinguished by the name of a Parliament, a Diet, the Cortes, or the States-General. This is justly esteemed the greatest event in the history of mankind in modern times. Representatives from the English boroughs were first admitted into the great national council by the barons who took up arms against Henry III in the year 1265; being summoned to add to the greater popularity of their party, and to strengthen the barrier against the encroachments of regal power. Readers may draw their own conclusions from an event which ultimately had the effect of revolutionising the framework of society, and of rearing that great body of the people commonly styled ‘the middle class.’

The enfranchising of burghal communities led to the manumission of slaves. Hitherto the tillers of the ground, all the inferior classes of the country, were the bondsmen of the barons. The monarchs of France, in order to reduce the power of the nobles, set the example, by ordering (1315–1318) all serfs to be set at liberty on just and reasonable conditions. The edicts were carried into immediate execution within the royal domain. The example of their sovereigns, together with the expectation of considerable sums which they might raise by this expedient, led many of the nobles to set their dependents at liberty; and servitude was thus gradually abolished in almost every province of the kingdom. This beneficial practice similarly spread over the rest of Europe; and in England, as the spirit of liberty gained ground, the very name and idea of personal servitude, without any formal interposition of the legislature to prohibit it, was totally banished.

While society was assuming the semblance of the form it now bears, the progress of improvement was accelerated by various collateral circumstances, the first of which worth noticing was:

The Revival of Letters. The first restorers of learning in Europe were the Arabians, who, in the course of their Asiatic conquests, became acquainted with some of the ancient Greek authors, discovered their merits, and had them translated into Arabic, esteeming those principally which treated of mathematics, physics, and metaphysics. They disseminated their knowledge in the course of their conquests, and founded schools and colleges in all the countries which they subdued. The western kingdoms of Europe became first acquainted with the learning of the ancients through the medium of those Arabian translations. Charlemagne caused them to be retranslated into Latin; and, after the example of the caliphs, founded universities at Bonona, Pavia, Osnaburg, and Paris. Similar efforts were made in England by Alfred; and to him we owe the establishment, or at least the elevation, of the university of Oxford. The first efforts, however, at literary improvement were marred by the subtleties of scholastic divinity. Perhaps the greatest and wisest literary character of the middle ages was an English friar, named Roger Bacon. This extraordinary individual was not only learned, but, what was more uncommon in those times, he was scientific. Hallam asserts that he was acquainted with the nature of gunpowder, though he deemed it prudent to conceal his knowledge. He saw the insufficiency of school philosophy, and was the first to insist on experiment and the observation of nature as the fittest instruments by which to acquire knowledge. He reformed the calendar, and made discoveries in astronomy, optics, chemistry, medicine, and mechanics.

It is to Italy, however, that we owe the first and greatest exertions in the revival of letters. The spirit of liberty which had arisen among its republics was favorable to the cultivation of literature and accordingly we find that not only did they produce many individuals who were most active and successful in bringing to light the relics of classical lore, but that there also arose among them men possessed of the highest order of original genius. Florence produced Dante so early as 1265. Dante was associated with the magistracy of his native city in his earlier years; but having given dissatisfaction in that capacity, he was banished, and in his exile produced his great poem entitled the ‘Divine Comedy.’ It is a representation of the three supposed kingdoms of futurity—​Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise—​divided into one hundred cantos, and containing about 14,000 lines. The poem has been much praised. Petrarch, born in the year 1304, was likewise a Florentine by birth. The misfortunes of his father had impoverished the family, and Petrarch was too proud to take the usual method of retrieving his affairs. His genius, however, earned for him the friendship of many Italian princes, and even of more popes than one, although he had exerted his talents to expose the vices of their courts. Petrarch’s personal character seems to have exhibited some unamiable traits; but he has sung of love, friendship, glory, patriotism, and religion, in language of such sweetness and power as to have made him the admiration of every succeeding age. Boccaccio, like the two great poets named, was a Florentine. He was born in 1313, and his name has descended to posterity less associated with his poetry than the light, elegant, and easy prose of his novels.

The discovery of Justinian’s Laws, as detailed in the Pandects, was another event which powerfully tended to modify the barbarism that prevailed during the middle ages in Europe.

The invention of the Mariner’s Compass must be reckoned of still greater importance, and yet it is absolutely unknown to whom we owe it. That honor has been often bestowed on Gioia, a citizen of Amalphi, who lived about the commencement of the fourteenth century. But the polarity of the magnet at least was known to the Saracens two hundred years before that time; though even after the time of Gioia, it was long before the magnet was made use of as a guide in navigation. ‘It is a singular circumstance,’ says Mr. Hallam, ‘and only to be explained by the obstinacy with which men are apt to reject improvement, that the magnetic needle was not generally adopted in navigation till very long after the discovery of its properties, and even after their peculiar importance had been perceived. The writers of the thirteenth century, who mentioned the polarity of the needle, mention also its use in navigation; yet Campany has found no distinct proof of its employment till 1403, and does not believe that it was frequently on board Mediterranean ships at the latter part of the preceding age.’ The Genoese, however, are known in the fourteenth century to have come out of that inland sea, and steered for Flanders and England. But by far the greatest sailors of the age were the Spaniards and Portuguese. This latter nation had little or no existence during the greater part of the middle ages, but in the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries, they were able to expel the Moors from a great part of their country; and in the beginning of the fifteenth, John, surnamed the Bastard, who was then their king, was the first European prince who exhibited a respectable navy. It was in 1486 that this adventurous people first doubled the Cape of Good Hope.

The discovery of America (1493) may be mentioned supplementarily to the invention of the mariner’s compass, as an event which, without it, could never have taken place. The immortal honor of that discovery rests with Christopher Columbus, a sailor of Genoa. After unsuccessful applications at almost every court in Europe, and braving obloquy and contempt, Columbus at last obtained a miserable force from Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain; and with no landmark but the heavens, nor any guide but his compass, he launched boldly into the sea, and at last conducted Europeans to the great western hemisphere.

In the course of the fourteenth and beginning of the fifteenth centuries, various discoveries in the arts were made, which powerfully tended to the advancement of society; among these the more important were the invention of gunpowder and firearms, clocks and watches, paper-making and printing. This last, the greatest of all, prepared the way for the Reformation in religion, in the sixteenth century, by which religious was added to civil freedom, and a great spur given to individual activity.