CHAPTER VI

EXTERNAL CAUSES OF DECAY

A body of institutions, like a living body, begins by passing through

a period of formation, growth, and consolidation, after which decay

inevitably follows; it becomes feeble, disintegrates, decomposes,

and finally dissolves. Death is thus presented as the natural term

of life with its constant wear and tear, as the necessary end of

the spontaneous development peculiar to living beings. But it is

also determined by the pressure of outside forces, by the action of

environment. Thus the guild system held within itself elements of

dissolution, and at the same time met with destructive forces from

without; it declined and decayed under the combined influences of

internal and external causes.

It seems fitting to begin with the external causes, since these were

the most important. In an unchanging environment living beings could

exist for long unchanged, but the changes ever at work without hasten

changes within, from the very fact that the organism is itself at work.

Thus it was that the guilds were first of all affected by the profound

changes going on around them. The sphere in which they had to work was

both extended and modified. We must follow out the consequences of both

these changes.

1. _The Extension of the Market and its Results._--The fifteenth

century saw the formation of the great States in Europe. France, which

felt herself to be a nation when she was trampled under foot by the

English, was the first to become a unity, and for several centuries

drew her power and her greatness from the start which she thus gained.

Spain was concentrated under the authority of Ferdinand and Isabella.

England, worn out after a terrible civil war, found rest under the

Tudor dynasty. In Germany, which was still very divided, the Hanseatic

League included twenty-four cities. Even in Italy the restless

republics, ever jealous of their independence, were absorbed into

larger territories and placed under a common supremacy. Everywhere the

endless subdivision of the Middle Ages gave place to larger groupings,

possessing fuller life and wider interests. Hence a new situation

arose for the cities; among those which in every state had up till

now been on an equal footing one rose to be the capital, the others,

with diminished prestige and importance, were only secondary centres.

They also ceased to be islets where the people lived lives apart; from

henceforward they formed an integral part of a whole which surrounded

them and no longer allowed of a proud isolation; they could no longer

treat their neighbours as foreigners or enemies; they found themselves

bound together by the necessity of obeying the same laws and the same

sovereign.

It followed that _city economy_, becoming narrow and exclusive, grew

difficult and by degrees impossible.[95] It was replaced by _national

economy_. This meant that the commercial market, instead of being

confined to the inhabitants of a town and its suburbs, included

henceforth the province, the duchy, and by degrees the whole kingdom.

Above all, it meant that the central power no longer legislated

for people enclosed within a small area, but that it attempted to

unify over the whole surface of a considerably enlarged territory

the official language, moneys, weights and measures, as well as the

regulations of industry and the judicial forms; that it suppressed as

far as possible the tolls which obstructed the roads and rivers; that

it carried back to the frontier the barriers which had been set up on

the boundaries of every little domain; that for a localizing spirit

it substituted the desire to reconcile the interests of the different

regions between which it played the part of arbitrator and peacemaker.

Doubtless the economic policy adopted by the great States did not

sensibly differ from that practised in the towns. A system does not

disappear without bequeathing traditions and customs to its successor.

National economy copied the methods of city economy. When Colbert, for

instance, tried to realize for France the ideal of self-sufficiency,

when for this reason he wanted to sell as much as possible and buy as

little as possible abroad, to create industries which were lacking,

to prevent those which existed from leaving the country, to encourage

the export of manufactured goods while watching over their proper

manufacture, and to hinder the import of similar goods by barricading

the country with customs tariffs, he was only taking up once more and

making general an old system formerly tried by Florence or Venice

and adopted later by kings and ministers in France and England, by

Henry IV. and notably by Richelieu. This mercantile system has been

christened Colbertism, and the name will serve provided that it is

known that Colbert was not its father but its godfather.

Nevertheless, in spite of the continuity of the principles which

guide great governors, the mere fact that the enlarged area in which

the guilds operated contained several towns whose jealousy might be

measured by their rights, was a terrible blow for the guilds; each town

with its narrow boundaries, finding itself completely out of harmony

with the world in which it was condemned to live, had to adapt itself

to the new conditions or die.

Not only, however, had the internal markets grown larger, the external

market had also extended enormously, and it was no longer for the

spices and gems of the Levant alone that ships and caravans set out.

In the South, Vasco da Gama had discovered the route to the Indies; in

the West, Christopher Columbus, while seeking those same Indies, had

come upon America; in the North, Russia and Scandinavia had proved to

be magnificent fields for traders to exploit. Africa, which as yet no

one had dared to penetrate, was approached and the existence of Oceania

suspected. Europe, in revenge for old invasions, overflowed in her turn

into other continents; she expanded into distant colonies; the sun no

longer set on her possessions.

The first result was a rearrangement of commercial routes, a formidable

rush to the West. The Mediterranean basin, cut off from the East by

the Turks, ceased to be the meeting-place of nations and the universal

centre of commerce. Genoa and Florence, the mothers and glorious

victims of Columbus and Amerigo Vespucci, began to decay, and the

very source of their wealth was assailed by the discoveries of their

children. Beneath the trappings of gold and silk that yet covered them

there was left only the melancholy glory of their dying prosperity.

Venice the rich, Venice the beautiful, slumbering in the fever-laden

air of her canals from which the life was ebbing, slowly died in her

gorgeous setting of palaces and churches and degenerated into a city of

dreams, luxury, and pleasure, where the leisured and the gay came to

seek the shadow of a great past and the splendours of a half-oriental

civilization. Many cities, like Pisa or Siena, deserved with Bruges to

be called "the dead," cut off from the ocean by the encroaching sands

and from liberty by the Spanish lords of Flanders.

How could the guilds hope to escape from the consequences of

misfortunes which struck at their very roots? An even graver menace

threatened them. To take advantage of the new outlets, to satisfy a

clientèle henceforth scattered over the most diverse countries, it

was necessary to produce more, and to produce more it was necessary

to produce in a different way. Production was transformed to meet the

needs of trade. Capitalism, which had hitherto been confined to a few

towns, received an impetus and developed with unexpected vigour.

"Great" commerce, which spread over an immense area, created exchanges

and banks, and great financial institutions for the circulation of

capital; it formed great companies which undertook to exploit the

resources of new countries; it accelerated transport and built up in

the press a valuable instrument for the spread of information and

for advertisement. In its use of credit it no longer encountered the

displeasure of the Church, which, together with civil law, became

reconciled to loans on interest and recognized the practice as long as

the rate was moderate. Its coffers, filled with the gold and silver

of the galleons which came from Mexico and Peru, gave Europe a hint

of a hitherto unsuspected danger--the glut of money. Capital, too,

which had accumulated in the landlords' and merchants' chests, took a

leading part in business activities by reason of its power to command;

it became a moving force.

Henceforward, as we have already seen in the case of the woollen

merchants, three functions, hitherto united in the person of the small

craftsman of the towns, became separated: those of the _merchant_, who

bought raw material and sold finished goods; of the _manufacturer_, who

possessed the appliances of labour; and of the _workman_, who wrought

with his own hands. Three classes of men answer to this specialization

at the present day: the _traders_, who are not producers, but act

as middlemen between producer and consumer, deciding what shall be

produced and concerning themselves solely with buying and selling; the

_industrial capitalists_, who, at the tradesmen's orders, direct the

transformation of the raw materials entrusted to them, in workshops and

with machinery which are their property; finally the _workmen_, who,

mere wage-earners, carry out manual or mechanical work as they are told.

These three classes of men have different interests. The big merchants,

with their bold speculations, are impatient of anything which hinders

circulation: town dues, customs, tolls, differences of coinage, weights

and measures, all regulations, everything, in fact, which tends to

isolate towns and countries. When Louis XI. convoked the States

General in 1484, the town deputies expressed themselves in favour of

the freedom of trade, which now felt strong enough to stand alone.

When Henry IV., on the advice of Montchrestian and Laffemas, wanted

to secure French markets to the French by increasing customs tariffs,

all the guilds consulted declared themselves in favour of the project,

with the exception of the mercers--"sellers of everything, makers of

nothing," as they were called--thus plainly expressing the hostility

of wholesale trade to the exclusive policy which had been pursued by

the towns. The great traders represented a revolutionary tendency with

regard to the guild system; they were its constant enemies; they ended

by being its destroyers.

The manufacturers, for their part, were not averse to being protected

against foreign competition; they were indeed inclined to ask for this

protection. Like the guilds, they had a predilection for privilege

and monopoly, but were not in agreement with them on some essential

points. In order to produce much and profitably they were in need of

cheap and abundant labour. Ignoring the rules of apprenticeship, they

hired foreigners, peasants, women, and children; in the sixteenth

century, in the town of Norwich, which from being agricultural had

become industrial, children of six were employed in the factories.[96]

When they did not crowd the workers together in enormous workshops,

they resorted to what sometimes goes by the equivocal name of "the

domestic system," which I prefer to call "scattered manufacture."

In the towns they employed men and women, who, working in their own

homes, were sheltered from inquisitive eyes. Such workers were found

in the suburban and country districts, in any places which were beyond

the ordinary jurisdiction of wardenship and mastership. Or again,

they employed labour in the hospitals, orphanages, or work-rooms of

religious orders, which had escaped from the jealous supervision of

the guilds. In Picardy, at certain periods, the weaver workmen thus

scattered among the villages numbered 10,000.[97] The same thing was

to be found in Brittany,[98] Normandy, and Dauphiny, in the manufacture

of linen and hemp; in Velay in that of lace; in Auvergne in that

of trimmings; in the Rhone valley in that of silk. In England the

peasants, driven from home, impoverished, eaten out by sheep, deprived

of their means of livelihood by the enclosure of huge pasture lands

to which they might no longer take their cattle, provided a wonderful

reserve army for industrial magnates in search of labour.[99] The

town artisans fought with desperation against the blows struck at

town monopolies by these new departures.[100] Opposition--significant

but utterly useless--was offered on every hand to the new demands of

large-scale production. Risings against foreign workers, like those

at Norwich; the many attempts to limit the number of apprentices;

the English law of 1555 known as the Weavers' Act, which forbade a

master to own or hire out more than a certain number of looms; and

the innumerable lawsuits in France brought by guilds to check the

disastrous competition of peasant labour were all illustrations of this

opposition.

Another necessity of large-scale production, involving still greater

consequences, was mechanical labour.

"Great" industry demanded the division--even the disintegration--of

labour. The product, before it is finished, passes through the hands of

various craft groups. It undergoes a series of processes which follow

one another and are interdependent, and of which each is carried out

by specially trained workers. This was the case in the manufacture of

wool from the thirteenth century. The wool had to be washed, beaten,

carded, combed, oiled, spun, woven, fulled; then the cloth had to be

stretched, dyed, dressed, and folded. It is a well-known fact that

if each class of work is entrusted to a special class of workers,

manufacture costs less both in money and in time. But it must be added

that this disintegration of the whole process into a succession of

operations leads straight to the mechanical system.[101] The simple

and monotonous tasks performed under this system of subdivision by the

different classes of workers owe their automatic and half-mechanical

character to the uniformity of the movements they demand. It needed

very little to complete the technical revolution already begun and to

make hands of wood or metal accomplish what had been done by human

hands.

A machine may be described as a more or less complicate engine, which,

by means of an animate or inanimate motive force, executes movements

which hitherto have been performed by the human hand. The weaving loom

and the spinning wheel were already rudimentary machines. The Middle

Ages knew, under the name of "mills," more complicate appliances, of

which many date from the Alexandrine period, which was to Graeco-Roman

antiquity what the nineteenth century is to modern times--the era of

science and machinery.

Water- or wind-mills, mills for grinding flour, for crushing nuts

or olives, for raising water; iron mills; mills for fulling cloth,

for making paper, sugar, silk stuffs--all these expensive appliances

were in use, and gradually spread over Europe during the period which

brought to a close and immediately followed the Middle Ages. Thus old

industries changed their method, and new industries were from the start

modelled on the new system.

Printing may be quoted as an example; the printing press, with its

movable letters, took the place of writing--the work of human fingers.

It may be said of it that it was born mechanical, and if we ask why it

killed the slow industry of the old copyists who protested in vain, we

need only look at the unexpected results it achieved. The identity of

the copies produced; the speed, which allowed demands hitherto forced

to wait months and years to be met in a few days, and which gave, so to

speak, wings to thought; and the unheard-of cheapness, which reduced

the price of a Bible from 600 to 60 crowns and even less (things

which evidently could not be obtained without the co-operation of the

Prince of Darkness, as was proved by the red characters which flamed

at the head of the chapters), such were the diabolical but invaluable

advantages which in less than half a century assured the triumph and

the rapid spread of the new invention.

If we remember the thousand-and-one prohibitions with which the guild

statutes bristled--the prohibition to mould seals with engraved

letters, the regulations which in every craft prevented all change and

consequently all improvement in manufacture, it is easy to understand

how "great" industry, without deliberate effort, but by its very

development, overthrew the economic order which had reigned in the

Middle Ages. The guilds, moreover, with the best intentions in the

world, fought against innovations which seemed to them abominations.

In England in the year 1555 the _gig-mill_, a mechanical appliance,

was forbidden by law.[102] The first English coaches, called "flying

coaches," were attacked and censured[103] because they threatened to

injure the art of riding and the manufacture of saddles and spurs, and

because, being too cold in winter and too hot in summer, they were bad

for the health of travellers; but, above all, because, on account of

their extreme speed, they would be dangerous. The public authorities

were begged to limit them to thirty miles a day (rather less than the

distance a fast train covers to-day in an hour); and later, in France,

when the _turgotines_ were instituted, which shortened by half the

length of a journey, an abbot added the strange complaint that, by

going so fast, they deprived the passenger of the means of hearing

mass.[104]

"Great" commerce and "great" industry, however, continued to develop

in the direction they had originally taken, and finally overcame the

old-fashioned timidity of the guilds, which were gradually reduced

to defending the interests of the small crafts. The great merchant

guilds were predominant at first; the Lord Mayor of London was chosen

from the city guilds, and the guild of the river merchants gave to

Paris its coat-of-arms and motto and was an embryonic form of the

municipal councils which followed later. As time went on, however,

they disappeared or separated themselves from the organized crafts.

At Paris, the Hanse of the river merchants does not figure among the

_six guilds_ which head the list, although they did not actually lose

their privileges till the year 1672. In London,[105] the city guilds

slowly ceased to have any connection with the crafts whose names they

bore. The great capitalists, whether bankers, merchants, or great

manufacturers, voluntarily formed themselves into a separate group and,

as far as possible, cut themselves clear of the trammels of the guild

system.

Meantime, under the system of large-scale production, the workers

were either subjected to the guilds as we have seen them at Florence

in the _Arte della Lana_,[106] or else, if they were not enrolled,

were treated by their individual masters in such a way as to keep them

permanently in a precarious and subordinate position. Whether they

worked crowded together in great workshops--where, owing to their

numbers, they were under severe discipline--or at home, in which case

their isolation only brought them, under the appearance of liberty,

harder conditions, they soon saw that, with the rarest possible

exceptions, they were destined to be wage-earners for life. They no

longer had the hope, the ambition, even the idea of one day owning the

factory in which they laboured, or the business which every week paid

its thousands of workers. The divorce was complete between the manual

worker and the instruments of production, and, in consequence, between

the men who were the servants of these expensive appliances and the

master-manufacturers who owned them. Masters and workmen, henceforth

separated by their present and their future, by their education, their

manner of life, and their aspirations, formed two classes, united

as yet, in that both were interested in the intensity of industrial

activity, but opposed, in that the one wished to keep the other in

subjection and to sweat out of him as much work as possible, as cheaply

as possible.

It is from this time, and still only in "great" industry, that a

working class can be spoken of. For a long time it was fairly small;

but the self-consciousness it was acquiring was shown by the strikes,

the combinations, and the attempts at union which were common in

England from the sixteenth century; by combinations which were already

national, like that of the papermakers in France at the end of the

seventeenth century; by the popular songs in which the discontent of

the workmen was expressed in bitter complaints or biting irony.[107]

The energy and diplomacy displayed in the sixteenth century by the

master printers of Lyons and Paris in preventing their workmen from

striking (_fair le tric_, which was the name given in those days to

concerted abstention from work[108]) is well known; so is the song sung

in England by the wool workers[109] towards the end of the seventeenth

century, the title of which is curious. The master is supposed to speak.

THE CLOTHIER'S DELIGHT;

OR, THE RICH MEN'S JOY, AND THE POOR MEN'S SORROW

Wherein is expressed the craftiness and subtility of Many Clothiers

in England, by beating down their Workmen's Wages.

Combers, weavers, and spinners, for little gains,

Doth earn their money, by taking of hard pains.

_To the tune of_ "Jenny, come tae me," etc., "Paddington's Pound,"

or "Monk hath confounded," etc.

Of all sorts of callings that in England be,

There is none that liveth so gallant as we;

Our trading maintains us as brave as a knight,

We live at our pleasure, and take our delight;

We heapeth up riches and treasure great store,

Which we get by griping and grinding the poor.

And this is a way for to fill up our purse,

Although we do get it with many a curse.

Throughout the whole kingdom, in country and town,

There is no danger of our trade going down,

So long as the Comber can work with his comb,

And also the Weaver weave with his lomb;

The Tucker and Spinner that spins all the year,

We will make them to earn their wages full dear.

And this is the way, etc.

In former ages we us'd to give,

So that our work-folks like farmers did live;

But the times are altered, we will make them know

All we can for to bring them under our bow;

We will make to work hard for sixpence a day,

Though a shilling they deserve if they had their just pay.

And this is the way, etc.

and so on, for twelve stanzas.

From now onwards can be found all those motives for disagreement with

which the "social question," as it has developed and grown more bitter,

has made us familiar;--increase of hours of work, lowering of wages

by the employment of apprentices, women, and children; reductions of

the sums agreed upon by means of fines, payment in kind,[110] and

other tricks; draconian regulations; harsh foremen; the binding of

the workers to the workshop, as the serfs were to the soil, by money

advances which they could never repay. Events follow their usual

course: the story is one of struggles, prosecutions, appeals to the

law, and finally, when no more can be said, battles with folded arms

and closed factories--strikes by workmen or employers. There follow

riots in which machinery is wrecked and attacks are sometimes made upon

the masters themselves. Repression ensues; the carrying of arms is

forbidden, the rights of combination and public meeting denied at pain

of death. And, in reply to these measures, the workers retaliate by

emigration, by secret societies, by recourse to force which may damp

down the fire but cannot prevent it from smouldering till in time it

bursts out afresh.

The guilds and their statutes were of but feeble assistance in

calming these conflicts. The greater part of the workers in the great

industries did not belong to them. Worse still, the guild system

itself suffered from the startling inequality which separated its

great manufacturers from their employees. Between rich masters and

small masters, between the sons of masters and the poor journeymen,

the gulf ever widened, and an institution was soon to reveal the

growing friction. I have already spoken of the separate societies,

now of long standing, governed by journeymen (_compagnons_); but

_compagnonnage_, united to these ancient associations by more than one

tie, had a more extensive influence. Its origins are obscure.[111] It

is hardly found before the beginning of the fifteenth century, and

developed particularly in Central Europe, France, the Low Countries,

and in Germany. It seems to be allied to freemasonry in its origins,

but was distinguished by an activity peculiar to itself. Freemasonry,

as far as it is possible to pierce the mists which envelop its early

history, was essentially a federation of building trades. It took its

birth from the bands of workmen who had their _raison d'être_ in the

construction of those vast cathedrals whose harmonious proportions are

certainly the most perfect legacy left to us by the Middle Ages. The

aim of the association was to keep in order the crowds of half-nomadic

labourers, who for half a century or more would establish themselves

in a town; to transmit from one generation to the next the secrets of

the craft; to act as arbitrator in the quarrels which might arise among

this restless population. Born in the shadow of the sanctuary, it was

naturally mystic and religious in character; it claimed to go back to

the Templars, or even to the builders of Solomon's Temple; it was the

child of an age which delighted in mystery and occult knowledge, and

it imposed on its members a complicated initiation, formidable tests,

signs of recognition, and pass-words. Created for men who sometimes

transferred their labour and their plans from one end of Europe to

the other, it scattered its lodges over different lands; it was

international, and in this differed profoundly from the guilds. But

with this exception, it took its place within the existing order of

things, accepted the hierarchy of the guild system, and had its three

degrees--_i.e._ included apprentices, journeymen, and masters. It was a

mixed institution as much and even more bourgeois than working-class.

_Compagnonnage_, too, covered many craft-guilds, of which the

most important were closely connected with building (carpenters,

stone-cutters, joiners) or with the clothing trades. It had its mystic

legends, its symbolic rites in which baptism and communion figured,

its claims to a long genealogy, its tests, pass-words, and strange

ceremonies, in fact the whole armoury of a society which believes

secrecy to be of vital importance. It was a league for mutual and

fraternal assistance, which spread over many countries and undertook

to procure for its travelling members moral support, lodging,

travel-money, and, above all, work. But it differed from the guilds and

from freemasonry in that no masters were admitted. It concerned itself

exclusively with obtaining work for _compagnons_, and with looking

after their professional interests. It thus emphasized the separation

which had taken place between masters and workers. It was feared as

an instrument of war, suspected on account of its secret methods by

the public authorities which persecuted it, and by the Church which

accused it of disseminating heretical ideas and condemned it in 1655

by the voice of the Faculty of Theology at Paris; it was also exposed

to the attacks of the guilds. Nevertheless it survived all this, and

was strong enough to organize strikes, and to black-list the firms

which did not accept its conditions, and even the towns in which it was

persecuted.[112]

Of course its strength and power of emancipation must not be

exaggerated. _Compagnonnage_ remained bound by the customs and liable

to the vices of the guild system. If it escaped from the restraining

spirit it did not escape from the corporate spirit; it jealously

closed its ranks, and would only admit certain crafts; it was divided

into hostile rites or _devoirs_ which took for patrons Solomon,

Maître Jacques, or Père Soubise. Violence was frequent (_topage_ for

instance), and bloody battles for the monopoly of work in a particular

town often took place. Besides, it only included a privileged minority

who ill-treated and despised not only those who were outside their

ranks but even those who aspired to enter them. It was on the whole

a fighting league, and imposed conditions on certain masters; but it

was far from being a combination of the whole of the working classes

against the masters.

Centuries were yet to pass before the development of "great" industry,

by constantly increasing the number employed, by turning the suburbs

of great cities and the black country into seething human anthills,

forced all these multitudes of workers, in spite of wide differences

of occupation, to unite into a great army.

As has been said, the division of society into guilds is vertical; it

only becomes horizontal when the conditions common to the great army of

wage-earners blot out all differences of craft and origin.

2. _The change in intellectual conditions. The Renaissance and the

Reformation._--We have summed up the effects produced on the guilds

by the enlargement of the environment in which they developed. This

environment, however, changed not only in extent but also in character.

Without going into the details of the changes they passed through, we

can see that three great events stand out in the history of Europe

from the fifteenth to the end of the seventeenth century, and it is

impossible that they should have failed to react on the system we are

studying; these are the Renaissance, the Reformation, and the increase

in the powers of the State.

The great intellectual revolution which has been named the Renaissance

was at first a return to Greek and Roman antiquity. Literary men and

scholars, filled with adoration for a glorious past, abandoned their

mother tongue for that of the great dead, imitated Virgil, Cicero,

Demosthenes, swore by Jupiter and Mercury, insisted, like Montaigne,

on being given the title of Roman citizens, or like Erasmus, Ramus, or

Melanchthon, took neo-classical names. They restored ancient methods

of thought and action; they wove conspiracies in imitation of Brutus;

they dated their letters by the Calends and the Ides; they became

pagans once more in appearance and sometimes in reality; in opposition

to Christianity--the religion of sadness, resignation, poverty, and of

the struggle against the flesh and passion--they re-established love,

pleasure, beauty, and the joy of life. They wakened from their long

slumber the old systems of philosophy, and as disciples not only of

Aristotle, but of Plato, Epicurus, and Diogenes, they became accustomed

to coquetting with every kind of doctrine and often acquired an elegant

dilettantism.

These new conceptions, which demanded a knowledge of languages

requiring long study at college, could only be held by an _élite_. To

have the right of initiation into the ancient authors it was necessary

to belong to the leisured classes; it took time to read and re-read

them in order to extract the "marrow within."

In a word, the Renaissance was fundamentally aristocratic. Most of its

classical scholars and poets profess disdain and hatred of the ignorant

masses.

Rien ne me plaist que ce qui peut desplaire

Au jugement du rude populaire

cries one of the brilliant satellites of our Pléiade.[113]

It follows logically that the education it instituted and which

was founded on the study of Greek and Latin drew a clear line of

demarcation between the children thus brought up, who were destined to

hold the highest social positions, and the others doomed to inferior

tasks and studies. It will therefore be understood that the Renaissance

influenced the condition of the workers. It swelled the tide which was

carrying society towards class division; it helped to separate still

further the tradesman and the manual worker; and above all it separated

the artist and the craftsman, those twin brothers, who till then had

shared the same life and the same ideals. The artist was no longer the

interpreter of the thought of a whole people, but, working for the

rich and powerful bankers or princes, who required him to reproduce

archaic forms and consequently demanded of him a certain amount of

education, he left the ranks of the people, rose to wealth, to the

ranks of the upper middle classes, and figured at court; he and his

fellows grouped themselves into special brotherhoods such as that of

St. Luke at Rome, and before long formed academies inaccessible to the

vulgar. Compare the life of Raphael with that of Giotto. In these days,

the craftsman remained a working man, lost in the crowd, watching from

afar and from his lowly station his successful comrade, who no longer

recognized the poor relation he had left behind.

Separations of this kind abound in almost every direction. In the

Middle Ages grocers and apothecaries, barbers and surgeons, were

classed together. But in the sixteenth century the apothecary, on his

admission to mastership, had to reply in Latin, and henceforth he no

longer considered the spice merchant his equal. So in France, from the

year 1514, the bond between the two professions was broken.

The historian can easily prove that this separation of art and craft

was often harmful to both; that art, isolated from the warm heart of

the people, became conventional, cold, stiff, and artificial; that

craft, relegated to a lower position, no longer sought for beauty, and

was condemned to express itself in inferior, routine work; but, taking

the guilds alone, this separation certainly weakened the mediaeval

system. Deprived of members whose gifts were their glory, they lost in

power as in prestige.

In spite of all this, and although the Renaissance is from some points

of view a retrogression towards social conditions which had long

disappeared, it was more than this; it was the awakening of the spirit

of initiative; it was a forward impulse, a bold step in advance. It was

not limited to a mere renewal of relations with classical antiquity;

it stimulated inventive effort, and taught men to think for themselves

once more, to open their eyes and to observe. It thus gave a strong

impetus to science. The age is rich in many-sided geniuses and seekers

after truth, who widened the field of human knowledge and power in

every direction. It saw the birth of those universalists, Leonardo

da Vinci and Michael Angelo, who may be likened to trees, which, by

the mysterious process of grafting, bear twenty different kinds of

fruit. In short, the Renaissance was a setting free of intelligence, a

breaking forth of truths, which, thanks to printing, spread all over

the world and became a lasting possession.

It is true, indeed, that mankind, like the Wandering Jew, is always

moving forward, and never comes completely to a standstill. Man

moves ceaselessly because he is alive. But after the great creative

movement which is the glory of modern times, his progress is more

apparent, surer, and more rapid. From this time must be dated a

permanent alliance between science and industry, exemplified in that

heroic potter, Bernard Palissy, who spent his life and fortune in

rediscovering the secret of certain enamelled pottery. The pity is that

this alliance, so fruitful in new methods, in the exploitation of new

materials and new products, was formed at the expense of the guilds;

for the innovations which it rendered necessary were the death of their

rules governing manufacture. Everything contributed, as we can see, to

the break-up of the organization of labour which they embodied.

The same may be said of the Reformation, the religious renaissance,

which was both a development of and a reaction from its fellow.

It could hardly be expected that a revolution which rent Western

Christianity asunder should spare the unity of the craft guilds. True,

it did not act in the same way: by making the reading of the Bible

obligatory it encouraged the education of the people, and in this

way it raised the craftsman. It found, and not without reason, its

first adherents among workmen,--Saxon miners, carders from the town

of Meaux; it turned towards democracy, towards theories of equality.

Those who carried it to extremes, like the Anabaptists of Münster,

pictured a government in which all the guilds, great and small, should

be made equal; their ideal was to turn all organized crafts, superior

and inferior, into a sort of public service; to establish a kind of

Biblical communism. Their leader and prophet was John of Leyden, an

aged working tailor.[114] If this was only a passing birth-throe of

Protestantism at least the guilds took a large share in the great

movements which shook Holland and England. It really seems that the

Reformation brought a renewal of vigour and activity to those states

in which it triumphed. But in many countries the fight between the

two faiths was so fierce that many cities were devastated and ruined

by it. In Germany, after the Thirty Years' War, Magdeburg, Wurtzburg,

Heidelberg, Spire, and Mannheim were simply heaps of ruins, almost

deserted. The Teutonic Hanse which had been so powerful was a wreck;

the Protestant and Catholic towns had broken the union in which their

strength lay. In a hundred places, since it was admitted that the

religion of the prince was law for his subjects (_cujus regio, hujus

religio_) whole bodies of people and industries moved away; workmen

and masters went in search of refuge among their co-religionists. The

guild system was profoundly disturbed by this; the new-comers, when

they were too numerous, were not always very warmly welcomed by their

brothers in God, and even when they were received, they practically

forced their way into a closed system which they strained to breaking.

In places where the population remained divided between the two creeds,

or where, more from indifference to, than respect for, the beliefs

of others, they made a lame attempt at tolerance, it was extremely

difficult to get men of the two sects to live together in the same

body. Just as the Jews had been excluded from the guilds in the Middle

Ages, so now the Protestants were kept out. In France, from the time

of Richelieu, fifty years before the repeal of the Edict of Nantes,

the professions of a doctor, apothecary, grocer, and many others were

forbidden to them.[115] Then came the great exodus of 1685, which

scattered the French Huguenots over every place in Europe where they

had friends, and planted colonies of refugees in Switzerland, England,

Holland, Prussia, Denmark, and Sweden. "They carried commerce away

with them," says Jurieu, one of their pastors; and _commerce_ in the

language of those days included what we call industry. The fact is

that they naturalized abroad many manufactures which had hitherto

been unknown. England alone learnt from them the arts of silk-making,

Gobelins tapestry-making, and sail-making. What then became of the

guilds which remained in France, of the monopoly at which they aimed,

and of the secrecy which was one of their methods of securing it? It

was a terrible blow for them when, as at Abbeville, 80 families out of

160 left the country, or 1600 out of 2200, as happened at the election

of Amiens.[116] How, thus mutilated, could they stand against the

foreign competition of which their own members had become the most

formidable allies?

3. _The change in political conditions._--Changes in political

conditions affected the guilds even more than intellectual and

religious changes. Europe, in spite of waves of revolt, passed through

a period in which great powers prevailed. The State, which was becoming

centralized, increased its prerogatives and complacently interfered in

economic matters. The motives which determined its intervention were

sometimes a purely _political_ interest, sometimes a _fiscal_ interest,

sometimes a _public_ or _national_ interest.

(_a_) The political interest of Sovereigns is to subdue rival powers

within their territories. For this reason they first attacked the

liberties of any cities where the spirit was bad, that is to say, as a

King of Prussia said later, _frondeur_, intractable, or restless. In

Spain their _fueros_ were taken from them; in France, town liberties

decreased, till they were almost entirely destroyed by Richelieu and

Louis XIV. In Germany, the number of free Hanseatic cities dropped

from eighty to three. The Italian republics fell one by one under

the domination of a monarch, and, though Venice survived, she had

concentrated her government in the hands of three State judges,

magistrates as autocratic and irresponsible as kings. In the Low

Countries, Bruges lost all jurisdiction over her suburbs in 1435,

and Ghent lost the power in 1451, and also the right to nominate the

aldermen. Liége, like her neighbour Dinant, was destroyed, crushed,

reduced to nothing. In the following century Antwerp, suspected of

sympathy with the Reformation, lived under the Spanish yoke, pillaged

and down-trodden.

Municipal and guild life were so closely united that it was impossible

to strike at one without injuring the other. In the city of Liége,

the thirty-two crafts and the _perron_ which was the emblem of its

independence were taken away at a single stroke.

At Florence, no sooner had the Medicis become Dukes of Tuscany than

the Constitution of the _Arte_ was altered in such a way as to make

it impossible for them to exercise any influence in the direction

of public affairs. In England,[117] the king and Parliament agreed

in forbidding the guilds to make ordinances without the consent of

the Chancellor of the Exchequer and the Crown Treasurer, or to fix

the price of goods, and aimed at supplanting them in supervising

the quality of products. The Statute of Labourers in 1563, in the

reign of Elizabeth, gave to justices of the peace, that is to say,

to magistrates who were not craftsmen, the right of fixing workmen's

wages. In France, Philip the Beautiful ill-treated the confraternities

and found no difficulty in modifying the rules of the Parisian

industries.[118] The Crown, however, differentiated between the guilds:

at the beginning of the fifteenth century, the doctor of theology, John

Gerson, lays down in the clearest terms the alliance between the Crown

and the rich burgesses: "All the harm," he says, "arises from the fact

that the king and the good burgesses have been put under servitude

by the outrageous enterprise of men of small standing.... God has

permitted it in order that we may know the difference between royal

domination and that of any people whatever: for that which is royal

is general and should be gentle: that of the low-born is a tyrannical

domination which destroys itself."[119] In accordance with this

principle, royalty was tactful in its dealings with the great guilds,

and willingly bestowed on them honorary privileges. Francis I. not only

confirmed to the Six Guilds, which formed the merchant aristocracy of

the capital, the precedence which they enjoyed at solemn functions, but

of the thirty-six wardens of these Greater Guilds as they would have

been called at Florence, he formed a High Council of Parisian industry.

Even with the others, the Crown proceeded gently at first. It desired

to absorb, and not to suppress. It realized what an advantage it would

be if these independent institutions, still under the influence of

their feudal origin, could be transformed into State institutions,

protected and obedient! It was with this end in view that Henry III.

decided that their organization, hitherto local, should be extended

throughout the whole kingdom, to the scattered villages as well as

to the towns. The city (urban) guild was therefore converted into a

national organism, and the guild was made compulsory at the same time

that it was put under tutelage. This unification, which placed it under

the direct supervision of royal agents, was, however, only to operate

on paper. It encountered the displeasure of the craft guilds; worse

still, it was in opposition to the first principle of the whole system.

The ordinance allowed the inhabitants of the suburbs to follow their

craft within the cities, and the inhabitants of one town to settle

in any other, with the exception of Paris[120]--a last concession to

an ancient tradition. It was something quite new for craftsmen to

possess equal rights and for crafts to be organized like those of Paris

throughout the whole of France; but it was only in accordance with the

general trend of French civilization. This sudden enlargement of the

guild system, however, was practically its death, and there were many

who from this time did not hesitate to say so openly.[121] The edict,

renewed by Henry IV. in 1597, was next extended to include merchants,

and was completed by the abolition of the _king of the mercers_, who

still exercised a certain amount of authority in the fairs; for even so

trumpery a king made the king at the Louvre uneasy!

The Crown was the less willing to give up its ideas of realizing unity

in the industrial domain in that it mistrusted the small crafts; it

bore in mind the fact that, formerly, when the Holy League tried to

create a sort of intermunicipal federal Republic, the masters' and

journeymen's confraternities eagerly joined in the attempt. It did not

forget that, in the time of the Fronde, the guilds were credited with

having had the repeal of the privileges granted to the great merchants

and the prohibition to import silks into the kingdom inserted in the

peace treaty forced on the Regent by his rebel subjects. Little by

little it reduced the authority remaining to them. It was tenacious in

carrying into every sphere the form of organization at which it aimed.

It made further attempts in 1673 and 1691; between the first date and

the second the guilds officially constituted and classified rose from

60 to 127, and what clearly shows the meaning of this administrative

classification is the fact that it nominated, or threatened the

nomination of, the headmen by officers of the Crown.

A very inadequate idea, however, of the encroachments of royal

authority will be gained if the solemn publication of edicts alone is

remembered, and the daily, incessant attempt of its agents to restrict

the jurisdiction both of local and of guild authorities is ignored.

No doubt a good deal of the economic jurisdiction formerly exercised

by the town magistrates still existed. Contraventions of regulations,

and struggles between producers and consumers, between employers and

employees, and between allied and rival crafts, were under municipal

jurisdiction.[122] The right of pronouncing judgment on such points as

falsifications, the observance of religious festivals, the price of

merchandise and the rate of wages, was still left to the municipality

by Colbert. Naturally its powers were greater or less according as the

town was royal, seigneurial, or communal. But it was not unusual for it

to retain the right of collecting taxes, and of nominating supervisors

who controlled crafts; for it to create masterships and organize

charity workshops which changed into regular factories; or to withhold

the monopoly granted to the guilds.

It is none the less true that communal jurisdiction grew less year

by year. Attention must be drawn to the fact that the craft guilds

sometimes passed it by and of their own accord applied to the central

authority for intervention. Thus, questions of provisions, public

health, monopoly, speculation, regulations for the prevention of

fraud, and the protection of apprentices, one by one came under the

jurisdiction of _parlements_, ministers, governors, and of their

delegates. Colbert, in his general rules for manufacture which

date from 1666 to 1669, codifies, in the name of the State, the

minute directions contained in the guild statutes on questions of

apportionment, bad work, etc.

At the end of the seventeenth century, then, the guilds still existed,

but had been subjugated and deprived of their principal rights. Behind

the solid front which they still presented were ruin, desolation, and

decay.

(_b_) It is probable that the Crown in France allowed them to

live and decline in peace because they supplied an easy method of

directing commerce and industry; but it was also because they were

fruitful sources of production. The Crown often disguised with fine

phrases the _fiscal interest_ which inspired it; it is, however,

easily discoverable in three different forms. Sometimes it confirmed,

strengthened, and extended the monopoly of the guilds and made them

pay for the favour; sometimes it sold to outsiders privileges which

encroached on and compromised this monopoly; and finally, it sometimes

threatened them, and only withdrew threats in return for ready money.

The great ordinance of 1581 and the special edict of taxes of 1673 may

be taken as examples of the first method. In 1581 the strengthening of

the organization of the guilds by purging them of certain abuses and

irregularities was the pretext cited; the king spoke and appeared to

act as the great national justice of the peace; but the real object of

the measure, which extended to the kingdom a system hitherto localized,

may well have been the filling of the royal treasury into which fell

a part of the matriculation fees paid by each new master. In 1673

trouble was no longer taken to find a pretext; the work was done by a

financial edict, that is, by the establishment of a method of taxation.

The guilds themselves encouraged these calls on their funds; indeed, in

1636, when France was in danger of invasion, they offered their wealth

and their services for the defence of the kingdom.

The second means, which consisted in creating privileges for which the

guilds paid and by which the king's coffers were filled, was invented

by Louis XI., who in 1461 instituted _letters of mastership_, which

exempted those who bought them from the examination of capability and

the expenses which the ordinary reception entailed. Soon the kings

introduced irregularities into the masters' guilds on every possible

occasion.[123] The blow could not miss its aim. If none were found to

take these licences, the guilds hastened to buy them up to prevent the

intrusion of new competitors. In vain they attempted to protest; the

procedure became habitual and legal. The great ordinance of 1581 stated

that the king would dispose of three letters of mastership in every

town and every craft.

This led to a third procedure. The guild was vulnerable at many points,

in its revenues and in its autonomy, as well as in its monopolies. If

a pretence was made of attacking its weak spots, it would pay in order

to be spared. It clung to the right of electing its own officers.

Now Francis I. had already introduced among them royal officers who

had naturally bought their office. At the end of the seventeenth

century the Crown, being short of money, renewed this expedient on a

large scale. In 1691 it declared its intention of replacing all the

officers and syndics by agents of its own nomination, and the guilds

had immediately to raise three hundred thousand pounds to avert the

calamity which threatened them. It was thus that the Jews and Lombards

had formerly liberated themselves. In 1694 the king took it into his

head to institute auditors and examiners to control their accounts;

another sacrifice of four hundred thousand pounds was demanded before

these were removed. In this way from year to year posts were created

and bought up. In 1711 the pressure brought to bear was even stronger

and more direct; the admission of new masters was forbidden, and they

were created by royal authority without the assent of the guilds. The

guilds gave everything that was demanded of them, everything at least

that was in their power; they borrowed, got into debt, became involved

and were on the verge of bankruptcy; just as the communes had formerly

succumbed under the weight of the too heavy burdens imposed on them by

the Crown.

(_c_) The Crown was not always actuated by such personally interested

motives; it sometimes happened that it was moved by nobler inspirations

in its relations with the craft guilds, and studied the general

interest when it restricted their exorbitant privileges.

In order to develop public assistance with little expense, those who

participated in works of charity were recompensed by being exonerated

from corporate obligations. In 1553 an edict conferred mastership

on all craftsmen who consented to teach their craft to the children

of the Hospital of the Trinity, and the hospital itself thus became

a factory working against the guilds. Several hospitals were in a

similar position. In the seventeenth century, however, it was with a

different aim,--the development of national industry,--that the Crown

deliberately created factories not under guild rule. Henry IV., in

order to naturalize in France the silk industry, which diverted from

the kingdom seven to eight thousand gold crowns annually, planted

mulberry trees, and brought in Italian workmen on whom he lavished

money and monopolies, and who were exempted from taxation, in order

that they might teach the art of weaving these valuable stuffs. In 1607

he installed, in the great gallery at the Louvre, a colony of foreign

craftsmen--a sort of industrial school of art where apprentices were

trained--who might establish themselves anywhere in the kingdom without

waiting to become masters. He thus launched the industry of luxury and

attempted to organize, over the heads of the guilds, that which was

most distasteful to them,--innovation, while their domain was still

further restricted by the special conditions granted to merchants who

followed the Court and became tradesmen by appointment to princes and

to the most brilliant of the nobility.

Colbert built up into a system what Henry IV. had practised, and great

factories rose at his command. These were of two kinds: first, _royal

factories_ properly so called--State establishments, in which all

expenses were borne by the Treasury; the director was nominated by the

king, and the privilege which they enjoyed was in perpetuity (the soap

works of Beauvais, Aubusson, the naval workshops in the ports, etc.).

Others, also called "royal factories," were, in spite of this ambiguous

name, private enterprises; they enjoyed important privileges, such as

exemption from taxes, subsidies, or titles of nobility for those who

directed them; but they were only temporary, and the company, with a

private individual at its head, was worked at its own risk and peril.

I will only quote one example, the cloth factory of the Van Robais at

Abbeville. No matter what their methods of administration, for the

guilds they were so many formidable competitors, and it is easy to

imagine the futile complaints and remonstrances of which they were the

object.

(_d_) We have described in detail the policy of the French Crown

with regard to the craft guilds, partly because this book is written

in France and for the French, but also because it developed with

remarkable logic and continuity. In neighbouring countries, however,

what happened was, if not exactly the same, at least similar.

In England, when we study the encroachments of the central authority,

we find that, in spite of the Commons, who represented the commercial

class, the kings authorized foreign merchants to reside in the ports

where originally they had to sell their cargoes wholesale within forty

days, and that in 1335 they were allowed to trade freely throughout

the kingdom.[124] We find three Parliaments in turn making laws to

impose certain industrial methods on the whole country, and many acts

of legislation are to be found regulating "the size and weight of

pieces of stuff, the methods of stretching and dyeing, the preparation

of wool by means of certain ingredients the use of which was allowed

or forbidden, the finishing of cloth, folding and packing, etc."[125]

A whole army of officials was needed to see that these complicated

laws,--which from being guild laws became national laws,--were not

broken. In 1563 the Statute of Labourers codified in this way, in the

name of the State, rules for apprenticeship and for other matters which

had hitherto been in force among the craft guilds.

At Florence, from the year 1580, under the rule of the Medicis, who

had become sovereign princes, the statutes of the Guild of Silk or Por

Santa Maria,--hitherto the most important Guild,--were reconstituted,

and governors, whose jurisdiction extended over the whole of Tuscany,

were set up beside the consuls. These were still elected by the

masters, but if one of the chosen magistrates were not approved (_la

grazia_) by His Serene Highness, that was enough to disqualify him.

From this time no subject could be brought up for debate in the

assemblies of the _Arte_ unless it had first been submitted to the said

Serene Highness, who could either allow it to be introduced or could

stop its passage.[126] In 1583 His Highness took upon himself to unite

two ancient guilds (Fabbricanti and Por San Piero); he had the seal of

the new guild remade, and the statutes, which even fixed the salaries

of the officers, reconstituted.

By degrees the consuls ceased to be chosen from _Arti_ over which they

nominally presided; they became personages who assumed honorary titles,

and the actual power was in the hands of "deputies" (to-day we should

call them delegates) nominated by the prince;[127] the organization

of crafts became purely bureaucratic and the ancient _Calimala_ a

mere charitable body. Wherever tribunals and chambers of commerce or

technical schools were formed, wherever foreign craftsmen were called

in and welcomed, there it may be said that the doom of the guilds was

sealed.

Guilds in the Middle Ages · 第 6 / 8 章