The original line of kings of Hungary having died out in 1301,

the influence of the Pope, who claimed the kingdom as a fief

of the papal see, secured the election to the throne of

Charles Robert, or Caribert, of the Naples branch of the House

of Anjou. He and his son Louis, called the Great, raised the

kingdom to notable importance and power. Louis added the crown

of Poland to that of Hungary, and on his death, leaving two

daughters, the Polish crown passed to the husband of one and

the Hungarian crown to the husband of the other. This latter

was Sigismund of Luxemburg, who afterwards became Emperor, and

also King of Bohemia. Under Sigismund, Hungary was threatened

on one side by the Turks, and ravaged on the other by the

Hussites of Bohemia. He was succeeded (1437) by his

son-in-law, Albert of Austria, who lived only two years, and

the latter was followed by Wladislaus, King of Poland; who

again united the two crowns, though at the cost of a

distracting civil war with partisans of the infant son of

Albert. It was in the reign of this prince that the Turks

began their obstinate attacks on Hungary, and thenceforth, for

two centuries and more, that afflicted country served

Christendom as a battered bulwark which the new warriors of

Islam could beat and disfigure but could not break down. The

hero of these first Hungarian wars with the Turks was John

Huniades, or Hunyady, a Wallachian, who fought them with

success until a peace was concluded in 1444. But King

Wladislaus was persuaded the same year by a papal agent to

break the treaty and to lead an expedition against the enemy's

lines. The result was a calamitous defeat, the death of the

king, and the almost total destruction of his army. Huniades

now became regent of the kingdom, during the minority of the

late King Albert's young son, Ladislaus.

He suffered one serious defeat at the hands of the Turks, but

avenged it again and again, with help from an army of

volunteers raised in all parts of Europe by the exertions of a

zealous monk named Capistrano. When Huniades died, in 1456,

his enemies already controlled the worthless young king,

Ladislaus, and the latter pursued him in his grave with

denunciations as a traitor and a villain. In 1458, Ladislaus

died, and Mathias, a son of Huniades, was elected king. After

he had settled himself securely upon the throne, Mathias

turned his arms, not against the Turks, but against the

Hussites of Bohemia, in an attempt to wrest the crown of that

kingdom from George Podiebrad.

The Fall of Constantinople.

Meantime, the Turkish Sultan, Mohammed II., had accomplished

the capture of Constantinople and brought the venerable Empire

of the East--Roman, Greek, or Byzantine, as we choose to name

it--to an end. He was challenged to the undertaking by the

folly of the last Emperor, Constantine Palæologus, who

threatened to support a pretender to Mohammed's throne. The

latter began serious preparations at once for a siege of the

long coveted city, and opened his attack in April, 1453. The

Greeks, even in that hour of common danger, were too hotly

engaged in a religious quarrel to act defensively together.

Their last preceding emperor had gone personally to the

Council of the Western Church, at Florence, in 1439, with some

of the bishops of the Greek Church, and had arranged for the

submission of the latter to Rome, as a means of procuring help

from Catholic Europe against the Turks. His successor,

Constantine, adhered to this engagement, professed the

Catholic faith and observed the Catholic ritual. His subjects

in general repudiated the imperial contract with scorn, and

avowedly preferred a Turkish master to a Roman shepherd. Hence

they took little part in the defense of the city. Constantine,

with the small force at his command, fought the host of

besiegers with noble courage and obstinacy for seven weeks,

receiving a little succor from the Genoese, but from no other

quarter. On the 29th of May the walls were carried by storm;

the Emperor fell, fighting bravely to the last; and the Turks

became masters of the city of Constantine. There was no

extensive massacre of the inhabitants; the city was given up

to pillage, but not to destruction, for the conqueror intended

to make it his capital. A number of fugitives had escaped,

before, or during the siege, and made their way into Italy and

other parts of Europe, carrying an influence which was

importantly felt, as we shall presently see; but 60,000

captives, men, women and children, were sold into slavery and

scattered throughout the Ottoman Empire.

Greece and most of the islands of the Ægean soon shared the

fate of Constantinople, and the subjugation of Servia and

Bosnia was made complete. Mohammed was even threatening Italy

when he died, in 1481.

{1049}

Renaissance.

We have now come, in our hasty survey of European history, to

the stretch of time within which historians have quite

generally agreed to place the ending of the state of things

characteristic of the Middle Ages, and the beginning of the

changed conditions and the different spirit that belong to the

modern life of the civilized world. The transition in European

society from mediæval to modern ways, feelings, and thoughts

has been called Renaissance, or new birth; but the figure

under which this places the conception before one's mind does

not seem to be really a happy one. There was no birth of

anything new in the nature of the generations of men who

passed through that change, nor in the societies which they

formed. What occurred to make changes in both was an

expansion, a liberation, an enlightenment--an opening of eyes,

and of ears, and of inner senses and sensibilities. There was no

time and no place that can be marked at which this began; and

there is no cause nor chain of causes to which it can be

traced. We have found signs of its coming, here and there, in

one token of movement and another, all the way through later

mediæval times--at least since the first Crusades. In the

thirteenth century there was a wonderful quickening of all the

many processes which made it up. In the fourteenth century

they were checked; but still they went on. In the fifteenth

they revived with greater energy than before; and in the

sixteenth they rose to their climax in intensity and effect.

That which took place in European society was not a

re-naissance so much as the re-wakening of men to a day-light

existence, after a thousand years of sunless

night,--moonlighted at the best. The truest descriptive figure

is that which represents these preludes to our modern age as a

morning dawn and daybreak.

Probably foremost among the causes of the change in Western

Europe from the mediæval to the modern state, we must place

those influences that extinguished the disorganizing forces in

feudalism. Habits and forms of the feudal arrangement remained

troublesome in society, as they do in some measure to the

present day; but feudalism as a system of social disorder and

disintegration was by this time cleared away. We have noted in

passing some of the undermining agencies by which it was

destroyed: the crusading movements; the growth and

enfranchisement of cities; the spread of commerce; the rise of

a middle class; the study of Roman law; the consequent increase

of royal authority in France,--all these were among the causes

of its decline. But possibly none among them wrought such

quick and deadly harm to feudalism as the introduction of

gunpowder and fire-arms in war, which occurred in the

fourteenth century. When his new weapons placed the

foot-soldier on a fairly even footing in battle with the

mailed and mounted knight, the feudal military organization of

society was ruined beyond remedy. The changed conditions of

warfare made trained armies, and therefore standing armies, a

necessity; standing armies implied centralized authority; with

centralized authority the feudal condition disappeared.

If these agencies in the generating of the new movement of

civilization which we call Modern are placed before the

subtler and more powerful influence of the printing press, it

is because they had to do a certain work in the world before

the printing press could be an efficient educator. Some

beginning of a public, in our modern sense, required to be

created, for letters to act upon. Until that came about, the

copyists of the monasteries and of the few palace libraries

existing were more than sufficient to satisfy all demands for

the multiplication of ancient writings or the publication of

new ones. The printer, if he had existed, would have starved

for want of employment. He would have lacked material,

moreover, to work upon; for it was the rediscovery of a great

ancient literature which made him busy when he came.

Invention of Printing.

The preparation of Europe for an effective use of the art of

printing may be said to have begun in the twelfth and

thirteenth centuries, when the great universities of Paris,

Bologna, Naples, Padua, Modena, and others, came into

existence, to be centers of intellectual

irritation--disputation--challenge--groping inquiry. But it

was not until the fourteenth century, when the labors and the

influence of Petrarch and other scholars and men of genius

roused interest in the forgotten literature of ancient Rome

and Greece, that the craving and seeking for books grew

considerable. Scholars and pretended scholars from the Greek

Empire then began to find employment, in Italy more

especially, as teachers of the Greek language, and a market

was opened for manuscripts of the older Greek writings, which

brought many precious ones to light, after long burial, and

multiplied copies of them. From Italy, this revival of classic

learning crept westward and northward somewhat slowly, but it

went steadily on, and the book as a commodity in the commerce

of the world rose year by year in importance, until the

printer came forward, about the middle of the fifteenth

century, to make it abundant and cheap.

Whether John Gutenberg, at Mentz, in 1454, or Laurent Coster,

at Haarlem, twenty years earlier, executed the first printing

with movable types, is a question of small importance, except

as a question of justice between the two possible inventors,

in awarding a great fame which belongs to one or both. The

grand fact is, that thought and knowledge took wings from that

sublime invention, and ideas were spread among men with a

swift diffusion that the world had never dreamed of before.

The slow wakening that had gone on for two centuries became

suddenly so quick that scarcely more than fifty years, from

the printing of the first Bible, sufficed to inoculate half of

Europe with the independent thinking of a few boldly

enlightened men.

{1050}

The Greek Revival.

If Gutenberg's printing of Pope Nicholas' letter of

indulgence, in 1454, was really the first achievement of the

new-born art, then it followed by a single year the event

commonly fixed upon for the dating of our Modern Era, and it

derived much of its earliest importance indirectly from that

event. For the fall of Constantinople, in 1453, was preceded

and followed by a flight of Greeks to Western Europe, bearing

such treasures as they could save from the Turks. Happily

those treasures included precious manuscripts; and among the

fugitives was no small number of educated Greeks, who became

teachers of their language in the West. Thus teaching and text

were offered at the moment when the printing press stood ready

to make a common gift of them to every hungering student. This

opened the second of the three stages which the late John

Addington Symonds defined in the history of scholarship during

the Renaissance: "The first is the age of passionate desire;

Petrarch poring over a Homer he could not understand, and

Boccaccio in his maturity learning Greek, in order that he

might drink from the well-head of poetic inspiration, are the

heroes of this period. They inspired the Italians with a

thirst for antique culture. Next comes the age of acquisition

and of libraries. Nicholas V., who founded the Vatican Library

in 1453, Cosmo de' Medici, who began the Medicean Collection a

little earlier, and Poggio Bracciolani, who ransacked all the

cities and convents of Europe for manuscripts, together with

the teachers of Greek, who in the first half of the fifteenth

century escaped from Constantinople with precious freights of

classic literature, are the heroes of this second period."

"Then came the third age of scholarship--the age of the

critics, philologers, and printers. ... Florence, Venice,

Basle, and Paris groaned with printing presses. The Aldi, the

Stephani, and Froben, toiled by night and day, employing

scores of scholars, men of supreme devotion and of mighty

brain, whose work it was to ascertain the right reading of

sentences, to accentuate, to punctuate, to commit to the

press, and to place beyond the reach of monkish hatred or of

envious time, that everlasting solace of humanity which exists

in the classics. All subsequent achievements in the field of

scholarship sink into insignificance beside the labours of

these men, who needed genius, enthusiasm, and the sympathy of

Europe for the accomplishment of their titanic task. Virgil

was printed in 1470, Homer in 1488, Aristotle in 1498, Plato

in 1512. They then became the inalienable heritage of mankind.

... This third age in the history of the Renaissance

Scholarship may be said to have reached its climax in Erasmus

[1465-1536]; for by this time Italy had handed on the torch

of learning to the northern nations" (Symonds).

Art had already had its new birth in Italy; but it shared with

everything spiritual and intellectual the wonderful quickening

of the age, and produced the great masters of the fifteenth

and sixteenth centuries: Michael Angelo, Leonardo da Vinci,

Raphael, Titian, in Italy, the Brothers Van Eyck in Flanders,

Holbein and Dürer, in Germany, and the host of their compeers

in that astonishing age of artistic genius.

Portuguese Explorations.

A ruder and more practical direction in which the spirit of

the age manifested itself conspicuously and with prodigious

results was that of exploring navigation, to penetrate the

unknown regions of the globe and find their secrets out. But,

strangely, it was none of the older maritime and commercial

peoples who led the way in this: neither the Venetians, nor

the Genoese, nor the Catalans, nor the Flemings, nor the Hansa

Leaguers, nor the English, were early in the search for new

countries and new routes of trade. The grand exploit of

"business enterprise" in the fifteenth century, which changed

the face of commerce throughout the world, was left to be

performed by the Portuguese, whose prior commercial experience

was as slight as that of any people in Europe. And it was one

great man among them, a younger son in their royal family,

Prince Henry, known to later times as "the Navigator," who

woke the spirit of exploration in them and pushed them to the

achievement which placed Portugal, for a time, at the head of

the maritime states. Beginning in 1434, Prince Henry sent

expedition following expedition down the western coast of

Africa, searching for the southern extremity of the continent,

and a way round it to the eastward--to the Indies, the goal of

commercial ambition then and long after. In our own day it

seems an easy thing to sail down the African coast to the

Cape; but it was not easy in the middle of the fifteenth

century; and when Prince Henry died, in 1460, his ships had

only reached the mouth of the Gambia, or a little way beyond

it. His countrymen had grown interested, however, in the

pursuit which he began, and expeditions were continued, not

eagerly but at intervals, until Bartolomew Diaz, in 1486,

rounded the southern point of the continent without knowing

it, and Vasco da Gama, in 1497, passed beyond, and sailed to

the coast of India.

Discovery of America.

Five years before this, Columbus, in the service of Ferdinand

and Isabella of Spain, had made the more venturesome voyage

westward, and had found the New World of America. That the

fruits of that surpassing discovery fell to Spain, is one of

the happenings of history which one need not try to explain;

since (if we except the Catalans among them) there were no

people in Europe less inclined to ocean adventure than the

Spaniards. But they had just finished the conquest of the

Moors; their energies, long exercised in that struggle,

demanded some new outlet, and the Genoese navigator, seeking

money and ships, and baffled in all more promising lands, came

to them at the right moment for a favorable hearing. So

Castile won the amazing prize of adventure, which seems to

have belonged by more natural right to Genoa, or Venice, or

Bruges, or Lubeck, or Bristol.

The immediate material effects of the finding of the new way

to the Asiatic side of the world were far more important than

the effects of the discovery of America, and they were

promptly felt. No sooner had the Portuguese secured their

footing in the eastern seas, and on the route thither, which

they proceeded vigorously to do, than the commerce of Europe

with that rich region of spices and silks, and curious

luxuries which Europe loved, abandoned its ancient channels

and ran quickly into the new one. There were several strong

reasons for this: (1) the carriage of goods by the longer

ocean route was cheaper than by caravan routes to the

Mediterranean; (2) the pestilent Moorish pirates of the

Barbary Coast were escaped; (3) European merchants found heavy

advantages in dealing directly with the East instead of

trading at second hand through Arabs and Turks. So the

commerce of the Indies fled suddenly away from the

Mediterranean to the Atlantic; fled from Venice, from Genoa,

from Marseilles, from Barcelona, from Constantinople, from

Alexandria; fled, too, from many cities of the arrogant Hanse

league in the North, which had learned the old ways of traffic

and were slow to catch the idea of a possible change. At the

outset of the rearrangement of trade, the Portuguese won and

held, for a time, the first handling of East Indian

commodities, while Dutch, English and German

traders--especially the first named--met them at Lisbon and

took their wares for distribution through central and northern

Europe. But, in no long time, the Dutch and English went to

India on their own account, and ousted the Portuguese from

their profitable monopoly.

{1051}

Commercially, the discovery of America had little effect on

Europe for a century or two. Politically, it had vast

consequences in the sixteenth century, which came, in the

main, from the power and prestige that accrued to Spain. But

perhaps its most important effects were those moral and

intellectual ones which may be attributed to the sudden,

surprising enlargement of the geographical horizon of men. The

lifting of the curtain of mystery which had hung so long

between two halves of the world must have compelled every man,

who thought at all, to suspect that other curtains of mystery

might be hiding facts as simple and substantial, waiting for

their Columbus to disclose them; and so the bondage of the

mediæval mind to that cowardice of superstition which fears

inquiry, must surely have been greatly loosened by the

startling event. But the Spaniards, who rushed to the

possession of the new-found world, showed small signs of any

such effect upon their minds; and perhaps it was the greedy

thought of their possession which excluded it.

Nationalization of Spain.

The Spaniards were one of half-a-dozen peoples in Western

Europe who had just arrived, in this fifteenth century, at a

fairly consolidated nationality, and were prepared, for the

first time in their history, to act with something like

organic unity in the affairs of the world. It was one of the

singular birth-marks of the new era in history, that so many

nations passed from the inchoate to the definite form at so

nearly the same time. The marriage of Isabella of Castile to

Ferdinand of Aragon, in 1469, effected a permanent union of

the two crowns, and a substantial incorporation of the greater

part of the Spanish peninsula into a single strong kingdom,

made yet stronger in 1491 by the conquest of Grenada and

subjugation of the last of the Spanish Moors.

Louis XI. and the Nationalizing of France.

The nationalizing of France had been a simultaneous but quite

different process. From the miserably downfallen and divided

state in which it was left by the Hundred Years War, it was

raised by a singular king, who employed strange, ignoble

methods, but employed them with remarkable success. This was

Louis XI., who owes to Sir Walter Scott's romance of "Quentin

Durward" an introduction to common fame which he could hardly

have secured otherwise; since popular attention is not often

drawn to the kind of cunning and hidden work in politics which

he did.

Louis XI., on coming to the throne in 1461, found himself

surrounded by a state of things which seemed much like a

revival of the feudal state at its worst, when Philip Augustus

and Louis IX. had to deal with great vassals who rivalled or

overtopped them in power. The reckless granting of appanages

to children of the royal family had raised up a new group of

nobles, too powerful and too proud to be loyal and obedient

subjects of the monarchy. At the head of them was the Duke of

Burgundy, whose splendid dominion, extended by marriage over

most of the Netherlands, raised him to a place among the

greater princes of Europe, and who quite outshone the King of

France in everything but the royal title. It was impossible,

under the circumstances, for the crown to establish its

supremacy over these powerful lords by means direct and open.

The craft and dishonesty of Louis found methods more

effectual. He cajoled, beguiled, betrayed and cheated his

antagonists, one by one. He played the selfishness and

ambitions of each against the others, and he skilfully evoked

something like a public opinion in his kingdom against the

whole. At the outset of his reign the nobles formed a

combination against him which they called the League of the

Public Weal, but which aimed at nothing but fresh gains to the

privileged class and advantages to its chiefs. Of alliance with

the people against the crown, as in England, there was no

thought. Louis yielded to the League in appearance, and

cunningly went beyond its demands in his concessions, making

it odious to the kingdom at large, and securing to himself the

strong support of the States-General of France, when he

appealed to it.

The tortuous policy of Louis was aided by many favoring

circumstances and happenings. It was favored not least,

perhaps, by the hot-headed character of Charles the Bold, who

succeeded his father, Philip, in the Duchy of Burgundy, in

1467. Charles was inspired with a great and not unreasonable

ambition, to make his realm a kingdom, holding a middle place

between France and Germany. He had abilities, but he was of a

passionate and haughty temper, and no match for the cool,

perfidious, plotting King of France. The latter, by skilful

intrigue, involved him in a war with the Swiss, which he

conducted imprudently, and in which he was defeated and killed

(1477). His death cleared Louis' path to complete mastery in

France, and he made the most of his opportunity. Charles left

only a daughter, Mary of Burgundy, and her situation was

helpless. Louis lost no time in seizing the Duchy of Burgundy,

as a fief of France, and in the pretended exercise of his

rights as godfather of the Duchess Mary. He also took

possession of Franche Comté, which was a fief of the Empire,

and he put forward claims in Flanders, Artois, and elsewhere.

But the Netherlanders, while they took advantage of the young

duchess' situation, and exacted large concessions of chartered

privileges from her, yet maintained her rights; and before the

first year of her orphanage closed, she obtained a champion by

marriage with the Archduke Maximilian of Austria, son of the

Emperor, Frederick III. Maximilian was successful in war with

Louis; but the latter succeeded, after all, in holding

Burgundy, which was thenceforth absorbed in the royal domain

of France and gave no further trouble to the monarchy, while

he won some important extensions of the northwestern frontiers

of his kingdom.

Before the death of Louis XI. the French crown regained Anjou,

Maine, and Provence, by inheritance from the last

representative of the great second House of Anjou. Thus the

kingdom which he left to his son, Charles VIII. (1483), was a

consolidated nation, containing in its centralized government

the germs of the absolute monarchy of a later day.

{1052}

Italian Expedition of Charles VIII.

History for ready reference, Volume 2, El Dorado to Greaves · 第 78 / 222 段