THE TOWN.
Cities and towns are the grand theatres of civilisation. Its
elements, it is true, have their place and their influence amidst
rural scenes, but they commonly appear there as the reflection of
what obtains in city life. It is of great importance, then, to take
a view of the social condition of the towns and cities of Europe at
that period, in order to estimate aright the character of European
civilisation.
The era of the general enfranchisement of boroughs, when the elements
of modern civilisation came into vigorous play, is coincident with
the close of the period over which the present survey extends--it
marks the eleventh and twelfth centuries; and, therefore, the state
of towns previous to that grand civic awakening, is what chiefly
demands attention in the present chapter.
SECTION I.
ROMAN MUNICIPALITIES.
The remains of the Roman municipalities obviously present themselves,
as forming the first division. Rome herself stands at the head of
these. "We find a considerable obscurity spread over the internal
history of Rome, during the long period from the recovery of Italy by
Belisarius, to the end of the eleventh century. The popes appear to
have possessed some measure of temporal power, even while the city
was professedly governed by the exarchs of Ravenna, in the name of
the eastern empire. This power became more extensive after her
separation from Constantinople. It was, however, subordinate to the
undeniable sovereignty of the new imperial family, who were supposed
to enter upon all the rights of their predecessors. There was always
an imperial officer, or prefect, in that city, to render criminal
justice; an oath of allegiance to the emperor was taken by the
people; and upon an irregular election of a pope, a circumstance by
no means unusual, the emperors held themselves entitled to interpose.
But the spirit, and even the institutions of Rome were republican.
Amidst the darkness of the tenth century, which no contemporary
historian dissipates, we faintly distinguish the awful names of
senate, consuls, and tribunes, the domestic magistracy of Rome.
These shadows of past glory strike us at first with surprise; but
there is no improbability in the supposition that a city so renowned
and populous, and so happily sheltered from the usurpation of the
Lombards, might have preserved, or might afterwards establish a kind
of municipal government which it would be natural to dignify with
those august titles of antiquity."[1] There can be no doubt that
through the whole period of the dark ages a lingering attachment was
felt by the citizens of Rome to their ancient institutions--an
attachment which local traditions of bygone glory, historical
associations connected with the very soil on which they trod, and the
mutilated yet magnificent remains of the ancient structures which
graced the forum, could not but keep alive.
Some considerable degree of architectural splendour must have
distinguished the papal city, at least from the time of Charlemagne.
It is described by Eginhard, in a letter to Alcuin, the emperor's
friend, as surrounded by walls, defended by three hundred and
eighty-seven towers, and as presenting a very imposing appearance
from the lofty castles erected by the nobles upon the hills, and
along the Tiber. He especially dwells upon the ecclesiastical
structures which adorned the city, consisting of colleges,
monasteries, and churches; the latter of which, according to his
account, were enriched with a variety of most costly ornaments, which
must have made a very glittering and attractive show to the citizens
and the pilgrims who frequented the various shrines. The
architecture of the period was of the Roman kind, and the churches
were formed upon the model of the ancient basilicas, or courts of
justice. They were generally in the shape of a parallelogram, with
aisles formed by rows of columns, and a choir enclosed by rails; the
upper end of the building being in a circular form, in which was
fixed the bishop's throne. Pillars and marbles, the spoils of the
ancient city, contributed to increase the magnificence of these
structures, which also contained sacred vessels and other articles of
gold, silver, and precious stones. The palace of the Lateran, and
other edifices, were of considerable magnificence, and reflected,
though, perhaps, but dimly, some of the splendour and luxury of
imperial times. The arts never perished in Italy. Architecture,
sculpture, painting, and music always found some patronage in Rome,
as the handmaids of her religious worship; though the taste and
genius which they displayed were very low.
The habits of the upper classes in the city, and especially of the
papal court, towards the latter part of the period we embrace, were
doubtless as expensive and luxurious as prevailed in any part of
Europe at that time, perhaps more so; but still we must not form our
notions of them from the standard of luxury in the present day. At a
time when the manufacture of linen had made but little progress, and
articles of that material for clothing and for domestic use were
little known; when monarchs were content to lie on beds of litter;
when eating with forks was thought to be a species of most ridiculous
refinement, and a comb of ivory, or bone, was deemed a rare and
curious instrument--all of which was the case in the twelfth
century--habits then esteemed luxurious must have been rude in
comparison with those which now prevail.
The lower orders of Rome were, throughout the dark ages, in a state
of deep social degradation, and must have experienced a very great
degree of misery; for a sad catalogue of oppressions, tumults,
outrages, robberies, and diseases, mark the history of the city for
many centuries. The morals of all classes were most depraved; the
nobles and highest ecclesiastics were generally corrupt and
licentious; the character of many of the popes was vile in the
extreme; and moral influences were shed over the population, by the
men who called themselves the heads of the church, more pernicious
than the deadly malaria that rose from the marshes round the city.
It has been already remarked, that in the Roman empire, at the time
of its decline and fall, there were a number of cities formed upon
the model of the parent municipality. When the Gothic nations passed
the frontiers of the empire, and poured down upon these provinces,
they swept over these cities, levelling their walls, plundering their
treasures, and materially reducing their importance. They also
diffused around them their own wild barbarian sentiments, infusing
new elements of thought and feeling into the minds of men; but still
the municipalities remained, for the most part, Roman in their form
and spirit. The ancient magistrates gave place to new kinds of
officers, such as dukes and counts, introduced by the conquerors;
yet, in the documents of the middle ages, numerous instances may be
found in which there is an evident regard for the official titles
which belonged to the days of the empire.[2] Convocations of the
senate, meetings of the curiæ, or Roman courts, for the
administration of justice, and the laws of the imperial code, still
obtained in the ancient towns; and the citizens of Metz, Cologne, and
Treves, in the time of Charlemagne, proudly retained the remembrance,
and carefully preserved the traces, of their Roman origin. The
architecture of their churches and public buildings was on the Roman
plan, and probably whatever branches of art remained beside, chiefly
connected as they were with their religious worship, were cultivated
according to the taste which prevailed in the mother city of
Christendom.
The history of Roman towns, from the fifth to the tenth century, is,
in general, a history of decline. They were wasted by war, and by
the oppression of imperious lords. Their commercial spirit subsided,
their resources diminished, and by the end of the time just mentioned
they had reached their lowest point--the very nadir of civilisation.
The Lombardic cities, however, did not suffer so much as the other
municipalities in the empire. The barbarian influence there was not
so strong, and they retained some wealth, commerce, and activity
throughout the dark ages.
[1] Hallam, Middle Ages, chap. iii. p. 1.
[2] Muratori gives several instances, Antiquitates, etc., Diss 18.
SECTION II.
RISE OF MODERN ITALIAN CITIES.
In the tenth century cities began to revive. Those in Lombardy, even
in the ninth century, showed signs of returning prosperity. They
rebuilt their walls, purchased or manufactured arms, addicted
themselves more to commercial industry, and acquired some wealth;
and, as a natural consequence of this, they felt the desirableness of
self-government and self-defence. About the same time, the political
institutions of the towns of Lombardy underwent a change. The
bishops, in many instances, became counts or temporal governors of
their sees. The citizens elected their own magistrates, subject to
the approval of the bishops; the emperor--though not always without
the consent of the people--appointing them to their sees, in
consequence of the introduction of the feudal principle into the
church, the prelates having become temporal lords and feudatories of
the empire. The emperors also appointed commissioners or vicars for
these towns, who there represented the imperial authority. The
episcopal government in cities seems to have been favourable to the
growing independence of the towns, the churchman, even if disposed,
being by no means able to become so formidable an oppressor as the
soldier, while the consent, at least, of the people, on his
appointment, kept up a notion of their municipal importance. During,
and after the war of investitures, when the cities of Italy took part
in the quarrel between the emperor and the pope, some arraying
themselves on one side and some on another, they received an impulse
which quickened their desire for independence.
A considerable mist rests over the morning of Italian liberty. The
history of the rise of her republican cities is extremely obscure.
They seem to have silently grown up, and to have gradually
appropriated to themselves the prerogatives of sovereignty. We
discern an increasing spirit of activity and independence among the
people--the assembling of the citizens, at the sound of the great
bell, in the square, or market-place, of the town, for
consultation--their election of consuls, who had the charge of
justice at home, and of war abroad--and the organization of militias
for self-defence. In the eleventh century "the militia of every city
was divided into separate bodies, according to local partitions, each
led by a gonfaloniere, or standard-bearer. They fought on foot, and
assembled round the _carroccio_, a heavy car drawn by oxen, and
covered with the flags and armorial bearings of the city. A high
pole rose in the middle of the car, bearing the colours and a Christ,
which seemed to bless the army, with both arms extended. A priest
said daily mass at an altar placed in front of the car. The
trumpeters of the community, seated on the back part, sounded the
charge and the retreat. It was Heribert, archbishop of Milan,
contemporary of Conrad, the Salic, who invented this car in imitation
of the ark of alliance, and caused it to be adopted at Milan. All
the free cities of Italy followed the example: this sacred car
intrusted to the guardianship of the militia gave them weight and
confidence." "It was from A.D. 900 to A.D. 1200, that the most
prodigious works were undertaken and accomplished by the towns of
Italy. They began by surrounding themselves with thick walls,
ditches, towers, and counter-guards at the gates--immense works which
a patriotism ready for every sacrifice could alone accomplish. The
maritime towns, at the same time, constructed their ports, quays,
canals, and custom-houses, which served also as vast magazines for
commerce. Every city built public palaces for the _signora_, or
municipal magistrates, and prisons, and constructed also temples,
which, to this day, fill us with admiration by their grandeur and
magnificence. These three regenerating centuries gave an impulse to
architecture, which soon awakened the other fine arts."[1] Yet it
must not be supposed that these renovated cities, in the early stages
of their modern history, presented an unmingled scene of social
advancement, prosperity, and happiness. Very far from it. In their
struggles with the emperor of Germany for the establishment of their
liberties, they endured sieges and sufferings the most heartrending;
nor were they free from dissensions among themselves, and from acts
of infamous oppression perpetrated by the strong upon the weak.
While a city was fighting for its own liberties, it often invaded the
rights of its neighbours; an implacable spirit strongly marked the
private habits of the citizens; sufficient security for human life
was not provided, the moral condition of the mass of the people was
degraded; peace was made the prey of faction, and, in too many cases,
the blossoms of freedom, which might have set into precious fruit,
"went up as dust."
There were some Italian cities, especially Amalfi and Venice, which,
in consequence of their dependence on the eastern emperors, their
relations and intercourse with Constantinople, and their commercial
activity, differed in their social condition from the cities of
Lombardy. They were decidedly in advance of their
neighbours--civilisation there made more rapid strides and reflected
some tinge of orientalism. Amalfi shines with conspicuous lustre
from the sixth to the twelfth century, when its glory was
extinguished by the Norman king of the Sicilies. There can be no
doubt that its commercial intercourse with Constantinople, where
eastern luxury prevailed, in the middle ages, and the trade which it
carried on with the Saracens, who were the chief cultivators of the
arts and sciences during that period, tended to raise the city of
Amalfi, as it relates to artistic civilisation, to a proud position.
Some additional refinement might probably be imparted to it, by its
close vicinity to Salerno, which was only seven miles distant, where
learning was cultivated, and a school of medicine established--the
first of the kind in Europe.
But the lustre of Amalfi is eclipsed by that of Venice, which, if at
an earlier period she were inferior, at a later period vastly
surpassed her rival in commercial greatness. Formed by bands of
refugees who fled from the sword of Alaric and Attila to the lagoons,
which spread at the extremity of the Adriatic gulf, this city of the
waters rose till she became the ocean queen. For a hundred years,
Venice consisted only of some scattered fishers' huts, like the nests
of aquatic fowls, on the shifting sands, protected by slender fences
of twisted osiers.[2] The population was supported by fishing, the
making of salt, and some other humble manufactures; and probably the
insignificance of the infant republic preserved her from the attacks
of enemies, and from the oppression of the eastern emperors, to whom
she owed subjection. Her earliest form of government was essentially
democratic, for tribunes elected by the people ruled her affairs; but
owing to the factions and jealousies which arose among them it was
resolved, at the close of the seventh century, that one chief
magistrate, called a doge, should be elected by the people, who
should be invested with sovereign authority, and should choose
inferior officers. Many were the civil commotions of Venice under
this form of government; and out of about forty of her citizens who
successively wore the ducal bonnet, nearly half were killed, deprived
of sight, or banished. Yet, withal, Venice went on growing in
importance, wealth, and power, and as we look upon her history, a
sort of magical effect is produced, somewhat like a dissolving view.
The huts on her lagoon became palaces; her humble boats, splendid
argosies; her fishermen, princes; and her traffickers the honourable
of the earth.
"And whence the talisman whereby she rose
Towering? It was found there in the barren sea.
Want led to enterprise; and far or near
Who met not the Venetian?"
In the tenth and eleventh centuries, Venice presented the picture of
a rich and prosperous commercial city, though still far inferior to
what she afterwards became. She could boast, even a century earlier,
of the commencement of the famous church of St. Mark, with its five
hundred columns of marble,--an edifice, built on the Byzantine model
of architecture, and showing the influence of eastern example upon
the opening taste of the Venetian people. Saracenic luxuries and
arts also began to flow into Venice, and before the close of the
period under review, she sent forth her fleets, which returned to the
lagoons, after anchoring in the port of the Egyptian Caliph; and the
Arabian maiden wove the rich sandal of silk and gold which arrayed
her priests, when they prayed before the altar.[3] There might then
be seen the brides of Venice with ostrich plumes, and "veils
transparent as the gossamer, and jewelled chains in many a winding
wreath, wreathing a gold brocade;" and her youthful sons "walking
with modest dignity, folding their scarlet mantle," and her doge,
gliding in a stately barge of gold, through the canals, while
"Old and young
Throng'd her three hundred bridges: the grave Turk
Turban'd, long vested; and the cozening Jew,
In yellow hat and threadbare gaberdine,
Hurrying along."[4]
Arms, silks, furs, fine linen, and other luxuries from the east,
formed the staple commodities of the Venetian markets, and were
supplied by her merchants to other parts of Italy. Indeed, almost
all the commerce of Europe was carried on through the medium of
Venice and Amalfi. But it should not be forgotten, that the amount
of traffic there, at that period, compared with the commerce of
modern times, must have been very limited, as neither these cities,
nor any others in Europe, had any manufactures which they could
exchange for the commodities of the east; and they were, therefore,
limited to the export of their gold and silver in payment for their
purchases. There was, indeed, another kind of traffic which these
Venetians pursued, and it is, observes Hallam, "a humiliating proof
of the degradation of Christendom, that they were reduced to purchase
the luxuries of Asia, by supplying the slave-market of the Saracens.
Their apology would, perhaps, have been that these were purchased of
their heathen neighbours; but a slave-dealer was, probably, not very
inquisitive as to the faith or origin of his victim." This
abominable trade in human flesh and blood, must then, as ever, have
brought a number of vices in its train, tending greatly to demoralize
the Venetian merchants, so that, at an early period, the language of
Scripture, in reference to Tyre, was applicable to Venice: "By the
multitude of thy merchandise they have filled the midst of thee with
violence, and thou hast sinned."
[1] Italian Rep. 22.
[2] Cassiodorus.
[3] Quarterly Review, vol. xxv. p. 144.
[4] Rogers' Italy. The poet thus describes the Costumes and luxury
of the Venetians, in his beautiful tale of "The Brides of Venice,"
which belongs to the tenth century: perhaps the description more
correctly applies to a somewhat later period.
SECTION III.
CITIES OF GERMANY AND THE NETHERLANDS.
But we must leave the Italian towns to look at the cities which
sprang up in the northern parts of Europe. The Lombardic cities were
Roman municipalities, keeping up a struggle for existence after the
fall of the empire, and Venice and Amalfi were communities, which
sprung up immediately upon that fall, imbibing some elements of Roman
civilisation, intermingled with others of an oriental cast, derived
from their dependence on the eastern emperors and their subsequent
intercourse with the Saracens; but the cities to which attention is
now to be directed, had their origin in feudal times; they arose
amidst that state of disorder into which society was plunged by the
inroads of the northern barbarians; they exhibited new developments
of social life and manners; they derived their spirit of independence
from the Gothic races who founded them; their progress was a struggle
with their feudal lords, and their final establishment and prosperity
secured the overthrow of the feudal system. The former were in a
great measure but the reflection of ancient civilisation, the latter
were the infant, but vigorous forms of modern civilisation. There we
see the Roman city, here the German borough. The ancient Germans,
according to Tacitus, had no cities. The people lived a wandering
life, and when they settled anywhere for a time, they erected for
themselves rude, detached, and scattered dwellings.[1] Long after
the invasion of the south of Europe the Gothic tribes retained their
uncitizenlike habits. "Till the reign of Charlemagne," observes
Hallam, "there were no towns in Germany, except a few that had been
erected on the Rhine and Danube by the Romans. A house with its
stables and farm buildings, surrounded by a hedge, or inclosure, was
called a court, or, as we find it in our law books, a curtilage--the
toft, or homestead, of a more genuine English dialect. One of these,
with the adjacent domain of arable fields and woods, had the name of
a villa, or manse. Several manses composed a march, and several
marches formed a pagus, or district. From these elements in the
progress of population arose villages and towns." The character of
these tofts, or homesteads, is well illustrated by a passage from Dr.
Whitaker's History of Craven:--"A toft is a homestead in a village,
so called from the small tufts of maple, elm, ash, and other wood,
with which dwelling-houses were anciently overhung. Even now it is
impossible to enter Craven without being struck with the isolated
homesteads, surrounded by their little garths, and overhung with
tufts of trees. These are the genuine tofts and crofts of our
ancestors, with the substitution only of stone to the wooden crocks
and thatched roofs of antiquity." The little towns which thus sprung
up were subject of course to the feudal lord in whose domain they
were situate; but, probably, the condition of their inhabitants was
preferable to that of his dependents, who lived in the open country.
Some small amount of manufacture and trade would necessarily arise in
these infant communities, all of which doubtless had their weavers,
smiths, and curriers, for the supply of garments and implements of
husbandry to the rural labourers in the vicinity.[2]
Germs of civic communities also appeared, in many instances, under
the immediate shadow of the feudal castle. Groups of serfs who
tilled the neighbouring fields, and some few artisans who
manufactured necessary articles for the household, gathered round the
baronial abode, and formed a little village, out of which, in process
of time, there arose a town of some importance. In a similar way,
villages sprang up in the vicinity of convents; and no doubt, as
Guizot has remarked, the progress of towns was considerably promoted
by the right of sanctuary in churches. "Even before the boroughs
were constituted, and before their force and ramparts enabled them to
hold out an asylum to the wretched population of the fields, the
protection which could be found in the church alone was sufficient to
attract a great many fugitives into the towns. They came to shelter
themselves, either in the church itself, or around the church; and
they were not confined to men of the inferior class--serfs and
boors--but were frequently men of consideration and wealth who had
been proscribed. The chronicles of the epoch are full of such
examples. We see men, formerly powerful, pursued by a neighbour yet
more powerful, or by the king himself, abandoning their domains,
carrying off all their movables, and flying to a town to put
themselves under the protection of a church. These men became
burgesses, and such refugees were, in my opinion, of some influence
on the progress of towns, as they brought into them both wealth and
the elements of a population superior to the bulk of the former
inhabitants. Besides, is it not probable that, when anything like a
considerable association had been formed in any quarter, men would
flock to it, not only on account of the greater security afforded by
it, but also from the mere spirit of sociability which is so natural
to them."[3] Thus these towns became places of refuge; characters of
all sorts, good and bad, those who fled from the oppressor, and those
who sought to escape the avenger, were gathered together; and thus
the rise of modern towns resembled the rise of ancient ones, and many
a European city had an origin like that of Rome. "Many fled thither
from the countries round about; those who had shed blood, and fled
from the vengeance of the avenger of blood--those who were driven out
from their own homes by their enemies, and even men of low degree who
had run away from their lords. Thus the city became full of
people."[4] Such was the commencement of the proud patrician
families of Rome, and in like manner originated many a wealthy and
noble family of merchants in modern times.
Till the ninth century, the people of Germany lived in open towns, or
villages, under their feudal lords; but, at that period, the
privilege of having walls began to be allowed. Hamburg was built, at
that time, by Charlemagne, and was so distinguished; in the following
century, a few more walled towns appeared on the banks of the Rhine
and Danube, but their commerce was low and feeble. A charter was
granted to Magdeburg, A.D. 940, "to build and fortify their city, and
exercise municipal law therein;"[5] but the most northern parts of
Germany could not boast of any towns till a later period. The first
which was erected on the shores of the Baltic was Lubeck, which was
founded, A.D. 1140, by Adolphus count of Holstein.[6]
In the Netherlands, the towns were in advance of those in Germany.
In the tenth century, Thiel contained no less than fifty-five
churches, from which it may be concluded that the population was very
large. The people then had learned the art of draining their lands,
and by the formation of dykes, they recovered from the waters
extensive portions of territory. Habits of industry, union, and
reciprocal justice were thus cherished, and the seeds of their
subsequent commercial greatness sprang up in these Flemish
communities. Their woollen manufactures, enabled them to trade with
France, and thus to acquire considerable wealth, while their own
population was clothed in good apparel.[7] Baldwin, count of
Flanders, established annual fairs, or markets in the cities of his
dominion, without demanding any tolls of the merchants who trafficked
there. It was some time, however, before any of these towns could
boast of much that was imposing in their appearance. The houses, in
the ninth, century, were made of watlings of rods, or twigs plastered
over with clay, and roofed with thatch, which, as trade advanced,
gave way, no doubt, to habitations of a better order. But wood long
remained the chief material in the construction of edifices, even of
the superior order. As late as the eleventh century, buildings of
stone were rare; and the parish church and the city bridges were
commonly of timber.
The noble cathedral of Tournay, bearing evident traces of resemblance
to the Byzantine architecture, is, however, a proof that, at an early
period, there were edifices to be found in the Netherlands of great
magnificence. It is interesting to look at these communities in
their earlier history, located on the borders of vast forests, and in
the midst of wide-spread marshes, contending with the difficulties of
their situation, patiently laying the foundations of commercial
greatness and renown, and teaching posterity what can be accomplished
by earnest enterprising industry.
Some of the cities of the Netherlands were subject to episcopal
jurisdiction, and the bishops of Liege, Utrecht, and Tournay, are
distinguished in the annals of the middle ages; but other cities were
subject to the counts of the province in which they were situate.
Yet, at an early period, the shrewd people of that commercial country
banded together for mutual protection and assistance, under the forms
of guilds, or fraternities, which prepared for the municipal
corporations of later times: and, in the case of the Frisons, or
people of Friesland, they secured for themselves very considerable
rights in the ninth century. These rights consisted in the freedom
of every order of citizens, the possession of property, the privilege
of trial by their own judges, a narrow limitation of military
service, and an hereditary title to feudal estates, in direct line,
on payment of certain dues. These rights formed the Magna Charta of
the Frieslanders, and gave them a proud distinction among their
neighbours.
With regard to the cities of France, Mr. Hallam remarks: "Every town,
except within the royal domain, was subject to some lord. In
episcopal cities, the bishop possessed a considerable authority, and
in many there was a class of resident nobility. It is probable that
the proportion of freemen was always greater than in the country;
some sort of retail trade and even of manufacture, must have existed
in the rudest of the middle ages; and, consequently, some little
capital was required for their exercise. Nor is it so easy to
oppress a collected body as the dispersed and dispirited cultivators
of the soil: probably, therefore, the condition of the towns was, at
all times, by far the more tolerable servitude, and they might enjoy
several immunities by usage before the date of those charters which
gave them sanction. In Provence, where the feudal star shone with a
less powerful ray, the cities, though not independently governed,
were more flourishing than the French. Marseilles, in the beginning
of the twelfth age, was able to equip powerful navies, and to share
in the wars of Genoa and Pisa against the Saracens of Sardinia."
If Paris is to be taken as a sample of the towns of France, before
the twelfth century, they must have been in a deplorable condition of
filth and wretchedness. The swine were accustomed to wallow in the
streets of this metropolis, until a prince of the blood was thrown
from his horse, in consequence of a sow running between the legs of
the animal. To prevent the recurrence of such accidents, an order
was issued to prohibit the swinish multitude from infesting the
public thoroughfares of the city. But the monks of St. Antony
remonstrated at this--the pigs of their monastery having had, from
time immemorial, the privilege of frequenting, at liberty, every part
of the towns, of feeding on such scraps and offal as they could find,
and of reposing on the choice beds of mire which covered certain
spots in the great highway. The monks were not to be resisted; and,
at length, there was granted to the swine of their convent, the
exclusive privilege of roaming about the Parisian streets without
molestation, provided, only, that the said swine went forth on their
peregrinations with bells tied about their necks.
[1] Germania, xvi.
[2] Hallam's Middle Ages, c. ix. p. 1.
[3] Guizot, Civilisation of Europe, Lect. 7.
[4] Arnold's History of Rome, vol. i. p. 7.
[5] Anderson's History of Commerce.
[6] Hallam.
[7] Macpherson's Annals of Commerce.
SECTION IV.
ANGLO-SAXON BOROUGHS.
The boroughs of our Anglo-Saxon fathers claim our notice. When the
Romans conquered this island, they founded in different parts of the
country their _civitates_, or cities. Twenty-eight of these are
enumerated by Gildas, an historian of the sixth century, as existing
in his time, which was about a hundred years after the Roman
conquerors had relinquished their dominion in Britain. Beside these
cities, the Romans formed a number of military stations, or
strongholds. These cities and stations became Saxon towns, after the
invasion of Britain by its new masters; the latter receiving the name
of boroughs from the Latin burgus, which signifies a fortification.
Other towns also sprang up in various directions, where local
advantages invited a settlement of population; and long before the
Norman conquest our island was thickly studded with townships of
various sizes. It is very remarkable, that, with few exceptions, all
the towns and villages of England appear to have existed from the
Saxon times. Some of these towns, however, must have been extremely
small, consisting of some few dwellings and other buildings, around
the homestead of the Saxon lord, and not bearing any more resemblance
to what they have since become, than some little hamlet bears to an
important city.
"We must abandon," says sir Francis Palgrave, "any conjectures as to
the government of the boroughs in the earlier periods. We must rest
satisfied with the fact that, in the reign of the Confessor, the
larger boroughs had assumed the form of communities, which, without
much impropriety, may be described as territorial corporations. The
legal character of the burgess arose from his possessions; it was a
real right, arising from the qualifications which he held. The
burgess was the owner of a tenement within the walls, and the
possession might descend to his heirs, or be freely alienated to a
stranger." The same writer considers that, in some instances, the
possession of land imparted the right of judicature in the borough
mote, or town assembly; but that while such persons were aldermen by
tenure, there were other boroughs which possessed an elective
magistracy. The nature of the Anglo-Saxon institutions has long been
matter of dispute, and considerable doubt surrounds the interesting
subject, which the most diligent and learned antiquaries are unable
to dispel; but, so far as our municipal history is concerned,
probably the twofold view of the organization of the Saxon towns
suggested by sir F. Palgrave, is correct. The towns in which the
tenure of land gave magisterial authority would most likely be the
smaller ones, while elective magistrates would distinguish the larger
communities. The following account by M. Thierry is, perhaps,
accurate:--"The burgesses of London,[1] like those of most of the
larger Anglo-Saxon towns, composed, under the designation of _hause_,
a municipal corporation, which had the privilege of conducting the
government of the city, and regulating its police. The presence of
the king made no difference in its institutions, and the burgesses
might, even without his permission, assemble and deliberate together
on the internal administration of their city."[2] But this account,
we apprehend, must be carefully restricted to the large towns of the
Anglo-Saxons, or it will mislead the reader. Towns in general we
cannot believe had attained to such power and independency. Still,
even the existence of a few such towns, tending as they did to leaven
the mass of the community with their own free sentiments, indicate
the attainment of a no small degree of liberal civilisation by our
Saxon ancestors.
Whether the Saxon burghs were represented in the _witenagemote_, or
general assembly of the nation, is another question which has given
rise to much controversy. On this point we are also inclined to
follow sir Francis Palgrave. He considers that "the elected or
virtual representatives of townships, or hundreds, constituted the
multitude noticed as the people in the narratives describing the
great councils, and other assemblies; for the share taken by the folk
in the proceedings, forbids the conjecture that the bystanders were a
mere disorderly crowd, brought together only as spectators, and
destitute of any constitutional character." Yet he does not consider
that they attended as mere deputies, chosen by popular election--but
that they were the municipal authorities, who came by virtue of their
office, or were sent to represent their brethren in the borough
magistracy, who were unable themselves to attend; and he thinks that
the expedient of authorizing a person not bearing office, to appear
as a deputy on behalf of those who did, would be easily suggested,
and would thus approximate to something like the modern system of
parliamentary representation. All this seems feasible; but we are
not warranted to conclude that there was anything fixed and definite
in the modes of representing these boroughs; we should suppose that
they were rather irregular, and were shaped by local, and even
accidental circumstances.
As to the appearance, the classes of population, and the internal
economy of the Saxon towns, we have more precise information. Almost
all the buildings were of wood. Hence the complaint in King Edward's
charter to Malmesbury Abbey, that the monasteries of the realm were
to the sight "nothing but worm-eaten and rotten timbers and boards."
Yet there were some edifices of stone at an early period; witness St.
Wilfred's church, at Hexham, built A.D. 674, of which an elaborate
account is preserved, written by prior Richard, in the twelfth
century. The churches built of stone were probably of a simple form,
resembling some of our oldest parish churches, with a nave and
chancel, and sometimes side aisles. In cases where timber was
employed, there was, perhaps, more of decoration. We read of glass
windows in the monastery of Wearmouth, as early as the seventh
century: but, as late as the time of Alfred, they must have been very
uncommon; for, when the ingenious monarch tried to measure the time
by burning candles, they so flared about in the wind, which came
rushing through the lattices of the apartment, that he made horn
lanterns to shelter them from the blast. Chimneys were luxuries
unknown, the fires in the houses being made in the centre of the
floor, over which there was generally an opening in the roof to allow
the escape of smoke; and when the fire went out, or the family
retired to rest, the place in which it was made was closed by a
cover. What must have been the state of the highways in provincial
towns, may be conjectured from the well-known fact that, in the
eleventh century, the ground in Cheapside was so soft, that when the
roof of Bow Church was blown off, four of the beams, each twenty-six
feet long, were so deeply buried in the street, that little more than
four feet of the timber remained above the surface.
The internal appearance of the Anglo-Saxon dwellings of the higher
class, according to the researches of antiquaries, exhibited some
advance in the cultivation of the arts. Let us enter one of
them.--The walls are hung with silk, embroidered with gold, the work
of Saxon maidens, who, like the damsels of Israel, produce "divers
colours of needlework." Chairs and benches may be seen in the
apartments, adorned with carvings of the heads and feet of lions,
eagles, griffins. They are of wood, and some of them are adorned
with precious metals. The tables are of a similar description. You
see them spread with cloths for the approaching meal, and furnished
with knives, spoons, drinking horns, cups, bowls, and dishes. Lamps,
and other vessels of glass, though rare, are not unknown; and silver
candelabra, and candlesticks of various descriptions, adorn the
rooms. There are also lanterns of horn, and mirrors of silver. The
Anglo-Saxon bedsteads resemble cribs, or cots, and are furnished with
beds, pillows, bed-clothes, curtains, sheets, and coverlets of skin.
The luxury of a warm bath, too, may be obtained. Stepping into the
kitchen, you have ovens and boiling vessels, and yonder is a cook,
dressing some meat. He is thrusting a stick, with a hook at the end,
into a caldron, which stands on a four-legged trivet, within which
the fire is made. The roast meat is brought up to the table by the
servants, upon spits, the guests cutting off such portions as they
please.[3]
The Anglo-Saxons are addicted to the pleasures of the table; and to
their lasting dishonour be it said, "that excess in drinking is the
common vice of all ranks of people, in which they spend whole nights
and days, without intermission."[4] A number of men and women
prepare the wine chamber, the minstrel sings his lay, the hall games
follow, and the drinking cup goes round the festive circle.[5]
Let us walk through the streets of an Anglo-Saxon town of the largest
class, and look at the different orders of the population. The
greater number of persons we meet with are the Saxon ceorls, or
churls. The Domesday-hook speaks of some who belonged to the class
of ceorls as "_liberi homines_." Some of these are freemen: others,
though they have personal rights, and are under the full protection
of the laws, are notwithstanding bound to the soil on which they live
and labour. They form a peculiar class of vassals, being under
certain obligations to their lord, yet having a property in the land
they till. These churls constitute the commonalty of the country, in
distinction from the nobles, or eorls. The weregild, or compensation
for murder, so common among the Germanic nations, who overthrew the
Roman empire, and forming an index of the social position of
different classes of the community, values the life of a ceorl at two
hundred shillings, and that of an eorl at twelve hundred. These
churls are labourers, artisans, and traders, of various descriptions;
they wear a woollen tunic, descending to the knee, with a collar
round their necks. The legs of some are naked; but most wear shoes.
Certain of these passers-by wear bandages, or cross garters, commonly
red or blue, above their ancles, and round the calf. From the
shoulders of the better sort, you may also notice short cloaks, about
the same length as the tunics. Their long hair, profuse beard, fair
complexion, and light eyes, evince their Teutonic origin; while their
countenance and bearing seem to proclaim that they belong to an
intelligent and freeborn race. Yonder goes a Saxon eorl, alderman,
or thane. He is of gentle blood, and has a place in the
witenagemote, or national assembly: persons of his class are lords of
townships, and are assessors in judgment with the bishop and the
sheriff, in the well-known county courts, which form the palladium of
Saxon justice. Just by him there walks one of the inferior nobility,
or lesser thanes. The dress of these parties distinguishes them from
the common multitude. The same in form, it is costlier in material
and ornament. The tunic is of rich cloth, and embroidered on the
border; the mantle is of silk, and lined with fur, with a large
brooch fastening it round the neck. The women who are passing
through the street wear a long garment with loose sleeves, over a
kirtle, and their head-dress is made of a piece of serge, or silk,
wrapped round the head and neck.
The clergy rank with the nobility; indeed, they form the highest
order. Their office invests them with a dignity, which men in
general revere. Even the _world thane_, as the nobleman is called,
looks with respect upon the mass thane, or common priest, and treats
him as an equal; while the greatest eorl gives precedence to the
bishop. Men of this class may be easily recognised by the
ecclesiastical garb.
We arrive at the house of a Saxon nobleman. Before us is the great
hall, with a projecting porch, supported by pillars and arches.
Folds of drapery are discerned through the opening, and lamps are
seen suspended from the ceiling. On the one side of the hall is the
chapel, with a curtain in front, withdrawn, and a lamp hanging near
the door. On the roof of the building is a globe, surmounted by a
cross. On the other side are various buildings appropriated to the
domestics. The noble thane is now sitting in the open hall,
surrounded by his family, and attended by a number of servants, armed
with shields and spears; yet are they there for no warlike purpose,
for he is engaged in acts of charity, giving alms to the poor, who
throng around him in suppliant attitudes, and gratefully receive his
generous offerings.
We now reach the county court, where the thanes are assembled to sit
in judgment. Oaths of allegiance are here administered to freemen;
inquiries are made into breaches of the peace, criminals are tried,
and civil claims determined. The following is the record of a suit
in the reign of Canute:--"It is made known by this writing, that in
the shiregemot, county court, held at Agelnothes-stane, (Aylston,
Herefordshire,) in the reign of Canute, there sat Athexton the
bishop, and Raing the alderman, and Edwin his sone, and Leofwin,
Wulfig's son, and Thurkil the white; and Tofig came there on the
king's business: and there was Bryning the sheriff, and Athelweard of
Frome, and Leofwin of Frome, and Goodrie of Stoke, and all the thanes
of Herefordshire. Then came to the mote Edwin, son of Euneawne, and
sues his mother for some lands, Weolintun and Cyrdeslea. Then the
bishop asked, who would answer for his mother. Then answered Thurkil
the white, and said that he would, if he knew the facts, which he did
not. Then were seen in the mote three thanes that belonged to
Feligly, (Fawley, five miles from Aylston,) Loefwin of Frome, Ægelwig
the red, and Thinsig Stægthmans; and they went to her, and inquired
what she had to say about the lands which her sone claimed. She said
that she had no land which belonged to him, and fell into a noble
passion against her son, and calling for Leofleda her kinswoman, the
wife of Thurkil, thus spake to her before them:--'This is Leofleda,
my kingswoman, to whom I give my lands, money, clothes, and whatever
I posses after my life.' And this said, she spake thus to the
thanes, 'Behave like thanks, and declare my message to all good men
in the mode, and tell them to whom I have given my lands, and all my
possessions, and nothing to my son;' and bade them be witnesses of
this. And thus they did; rode to the mote, and told al the good men
what she had enjoined them. Then Thurkil the white addressed the
mote, and requested all the thanes to let his wife have the lands
which her kinswoman had given her; and thus they did; and Thurkil
rode to the church of St. Ethelbert, with the leave and witness of
all the people, and had this inserted in a book in the church."
It need scarcely be observed that the document shows "the crude state
of legal process and inquiry" at the time to which it relates, and
"in the practical jurisprudence of our Saxon ancestors, even at the
beginning of the eleventh century, we perceive no advance of civility
and skill from the state of their own savage progenitors on the banks
of the Elbe."[6] It is important to remark that the county court is
the great constitutional judicature in all questions of civil right,
and, unless justice be there denied, no appeal can be made to the
royal tribunal.
Among the Anglo-Saxons the practice of "compurgation" obtains in
criminal cases; the accused has the privilege of clearing his
character, and establishing his innocence, by his own oath, supported
by the oaths of a certain number of persons who can pledge themselves
to the truth of his testimony.[7] Where he fails to obtain these
compurgators he appeals to the ordeal, by the issue of which his
cause is decided.
In walking through the Anglo-Saxon town we perceive some indications
of trade. Artificers are at work; among whom the tanner, the
blacksmith, and the carpenter are most distinguished and useful. But
let us hasten to the market. Some encouragement is afforded to
commerce by the laws of the country; by which it is enacted, that
every merchant who has made three voyages over the sea, with a ship
and cargo of his own, shall be elevated to the rank of a thane, or
nobleman. That the principle of commerce is understood appears from
the following conversation which we overhear between a merchant and
his neighbour:
_Merchant_.--"I say that I am useful to the king, and to aldermen,
and to the rich, and to all people. I ascend my ship with my
merchandise, and sail over the sea-like places, and sell my things,
and buy dear things, which are not produced in this land, and I bring
them to you here with great danger over the sea: and sometimes I
suffer shipwreck with the loss of all things, scarcely escaping
myself."
_Neighbour_.--"What do you bring us?"
_Merchant_.--"Skins, silks, costly gems, and gold; various garments,
pigments, wine, oil, ivory, orichalcus, (perhaps brass,) copper, and
tin, silver, glass, and such like."
_Neighbour_.--"Will you sell your things here as you bought them
there?"
_Merchant_.--"I will not, because what would my labour benefit me? I
will sell them here dearer than I bought them there, that I may get
some profit to feed me, my wife, and children."
But commercial dealings in this market are sadly fettered. Witness
the following enactments: "If any of the people of Kent buy anything
in the city of London, he must have two or three honest men, or the
king's ports' reeve present at the bargain."--"Let none exchange one
thing for another, except in the presence of the sheriff, the mass
priest, the lord of the manor, or some other person of undoubted
veracity. If they do otherwise they shall pay a fine of thirty
shillings, besides forfeiting the goods so exchanged to the lord of
the manor." These restrictions, which apply to the sale of all
articles above the value of twenty pence, are evidently intended for
the security of the revenue, to which a certain tax is paid on
everything which is purchased at a price above that sum. We may add,
that the market is held once a week. Sunday was once, in most towns,
the market-day--and still is, in some--to suit the convenience of the
people who then have leisure, and are congregated together in the
town to attend on mass: but the clergy, who justly consider this a
sad profanation, have long endeavoured to put a stop to the practice,
and to shift the market to the Saturday; in which laudable design
they have succeeded, in many places.
In our imaginary ramble through the Anglo-Saxon town, we have met
with a number of slaves. They form the population below the ceorls.
Slavery existed in England before the Saxon invasion, and has been
perpetuated by the conquerors. Part of the conquered Britons were
reduced to this degraded state by their new lords; and some freeborn
Saxons have, on account of debt, want, crime, or inability to resist
oppression, been drawn into this abject class of the population. The
disenfranchisement of the free is attended by significant and
disgraceful rites. The unhappy individual resigns his sword and
lance, and receives the bill and goad; he then humbly kneels, and
places his head under the hand of his master, as a sign of full
submission. Slaves are common articles of traffic, and are publicly
sold in the Anglo-Saxon markets. The importation of slaves from
other countries is allowed, but the exportation of native slaves is
forbidden; yet an illicit trade of the latter kind is carried on
particularly at Bristol, where the Anglo-Saxons may be found selling
to the Irish, not only their servants, but even their own children
and other relatives.
Here we must close our notice of the towns in the dark ages, and,
with it, our brief and imperfect review of the general social
condition of Europe, during that period. It certainly was not the
age of great cities. They did not flourish then; manufactures,
commerce, the arts and habits of peaceful enterprise, all of which
form the sinews of strength in civic communities, were in a feeble
state. Towns did not take a leading part in the movement of society,
and did not give expression to the spirit of the age, as they do in
our day. In looking at the church, the monastery, and the feudal
castle, it must be felt that there, not in the town, was to be found
the presiding genius of the times. They were the chief social
elements then at work; they belonged to the period; they inspired it,
and gave a shape to its affairs; but towns, properly speaking, belong
to other eras, to times before and after, and come in, during the age
reviewed, merely as links uniting the forms of ancient and modern
civilisation. Yet toward the end of the dark ages they are seen
reviving, and beginning once more to play a conspicuous part on the
stage of the world, giving obvious presages of what they have since
become.
Abundant materials for reflection are presented to the reader, in the
five short chapters which compose this little volume.
These sketches illustrate the plan of Divine Providence. Perhaps, in
looking at the facts reviewed, the reader will be struck with the
slow advance of human improvement, and with the permission and long
continuance of so much that was apparently useless, and even
pernicious in the institutions, habits, and spirit of society.
Without touching upon the great problem of the ultimate cause of
moral evil in the universe of God--which is a question not to be
fathomed by the limited intellect of man--it may be observed, that
the state of things which obtained in Europe, for so many centuries,
is but analogous to what we find has taken place in the physical
creation. In looking back upon the natural history of our world, we
find that the operation of the Divine laws has been slow and gradual;
that geological eras of long duration have occurred, in which much
was going on that might seem useless, and even hurtful: we see, for
example, that vast spaces of time were occupied by the growth of
vegetation in wild and rank luxuriance, which apparently yielded no
advantage, which was connected with a state of the atmosphere
unfavourable to animal life, and which was, at length, submerged
beneath the waters, probably by some terrific convulsions. But these
slow and gradual changes have issued in the present beautiful and
useful condition of the physical world, and these long periods of
seeming useless, and even pernicious vegetation, were the eras of our
coal formations, when those treasures were being prepared upon which
modern comfort, modern art, and modern civilisation so much depend.
In the institutions and events of the dark ages, there were being
formed the elements of that civilisation which is now developing
itself, and which will, under Christian influence and the blessing of
God, doubtless, ultimately yield the highest benefits to man, in his
present state of existence. But after all, it becomes us humbly and
devoutly to admit that Divine providence is a scheme but imperfectly
understood by the human mind, even when enlightened by the Holy
Spirit; and such a mind is willing now to leave the dark recesses
unexplored. "Lo, these are parts of his ways: but how little a
portion is heard of him!" Here we have but his whisper word! the
Almighty! we find Him not. But what we know not now, we shall know
hereafter; and what a large measure of pure enjoyment will be
afforded, in a future state of existence, to those who, through the
atonement of our Divine Redeemer, and the sanctifying work of the
Holy Spirit, shall attain to a blessed immortality, as they receive,
in a manner of which we have now no conception, revelations of the
mystery of providence; as they stand before His throne whose glory it
will then be to unfold, as it is now his glory "to conceal a thing;"
and as they discern the connexion of the whole history of mankind
with the glorious economy of redeeming love.
[1] The population of London in the fourteenth century did not exceed
35,000. Mr. Hallam thinks that, at the time of the conquest, it was
less. York contained about 10,000 inhabitants.
[2] History of the Norman Conquest.
[3] Pictorial History of England, i. 323
[4] William of Malmesbury.
[5] Poem of Beowulf. Pict. Hist. 337.
[6] Hallam.
[7] Trial by jury has often been described as an Anglo-Saxon
practice, for which we are indebted to the wisdom of Alfred. Without
going into this disputed point we would refer the reader to an
article in the Penny Cyclopædia, (Jury,) where he will find it
discussed, and from which we quote the following extract:--"The trial
by twelve compurgators, which was of canonical origin and was known
to the Anglo-Saxons, and also to many foreign nations, resembled the
trial by jury only in the number of persons sworn: and no conclusion
can be drawn from this circumstance, as twelve was not only a common
number throughout Europe for canonical and other purgations, but was
the favourite number in every branch of the polity and jurisprudence
of the Gothic nations."
RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY: INSTITUTED 1799.