HISTORY OF THE PROTECTIVE SPIRIT, AND COMPARISON OF IT IN FRANCE AND
ENGLAND.
When, towards the end of the fifth century, the Roman empire was broken
up, there followed, as is well known, a long period of ignorance and of
crime, in which even the ablest minds were immersed in the grossest
superstitions. During these, which are rightly called the Dark Ages, the
clergy were supreme: they ruled the consciences of the most despotic
sovereigns, and they were respected as men of vast learning, because
they alone were able to read and write; because they were the sole
depositaries of those idle conceits of which European science then
consisted; and because they preserved the legends of the saints and the
lives of the fathers, from which, as it was believed, the teachings of
divine wisdom might easily be gathered.
Such was the degradation of the European intellect for about five
hundred years, during which the credulity of men reached a height
unparalleled in the annals of ignorance. But at length the human reason,
that divine spark which even the most corrupt society is unable to
extinguish, began to display its power, and disperse the mists by which
it was surrounded. Various circumstances, which it would be tedious here
to discuss, caused this dispersion to take place at different times in
different countries. However, speaking generally, we may say that it
occurred in the tenth and eleventh centuries, and that by the twelfth
century there was no nation now called civilized, upon whom the light
had not begun to dawn.
It is from this point that the first great divergence between the
European nations took its rise. Before this time their superstition was
so great and universal, that it would avail little to measure the degree
of their relative darkness. Indeed, so low had they fallen, that, during
the earlier period, the authority of the clergy was in many respects an
advantage, as forming a barrier between the people and their rulers, and
as supplying the sole instance of a class that even made an approach to
intellectual pursuits. But when the great movement took place, when the
human reason began to rebel, the position of the clergy was suddenly
changed. They had been friendly to reasoning as long as the reasoning
was on their side.[271] While they were the only guardians of knowledge,
they were eager to promote its interests. Now, however, it was falling
from their hands: it was becoming possessed by laymen: it was growing
dangerous: it must be reduced to its proper dimensions. Then it was that
there first became general the inquisitions, the imprisonments, the
torturings, the burnings, and all the other contrivances by which the
church vainly endeavoured to stem the tide that had turned against
her.[272] From that moment there has been an unceasing struggle between
these two great parties,--the advocates of inquiry, and the advocates of
belief: a struggle which, however it may be disguised, and under
whatever forms it may appear, is at bottom always the same, and
represents the opposite interests of reason and faith, of scepticism and
credulity, of progress and reaction, of those who hope for the future,
and of those who cling to the past.
[271] 'Toute influence qu'on accordait à la science ne pouvait, dans les
premiers temps, qu'être favorable au clergé.' _Meyer_, _Institut.
Judic._ vol. i. p. 498.
[272] Early in the eleventh century the clergy first began
systematically to repress independent inquiries by punishing men
who attempted to think for themselves. Compare _Sismondi_, _Hist.
des Français_, vol. iv. pp. 145, 146; _Neander's Hist. of the
Church_, vol. vi. pp. 365, 366; _Prescott's Hist. of Ferdinand
and Isabella_, vol. i. p. 261 note. Before this, such a policy,
as Sismondi justly observes, was not required: 'Pendant plusieurs
siècles, l'église n'avoit été troublée par aucune hérésie;
l'ignorance étoit trop complète la soumission trop servile, la
foi trop aveugle, pour que les questions qui avoient si long-temps
exercé la subtilité des Grecs fussent seulement comprises par les
Latins.' As knowledge advanced, the opposition between inquiry
and belief became more marked: the church redoubled her efforts,
and at the end of the twelfth century the popes first formally
called on the secular power to punish heretics; and the earliest
constitution addressed 'inquisitoribus hæreticæ pravitatis' is
one by Alexander IV. _Meyer_, _Inst. Jud._ vol. ii. pp. 554, 556.
See also on this movement, _Llorente_, _Hist. de l'Inquisition_,
vol. i. p. 125, vol. iv. p. 284. In 1222 a synod assembled at
Oxford caused an apostate to be burned; and this, says Lingard
(_Hist. of England_, vol. ii. p. 148), 'is, I believe, the first
instance of capital punishment in England on the ground of
religion.' Compare _Wright's Biog. Brit. Lit._ vol. ii. p. 444.
This, then, is the great starting point of modern civilization. From the
moment that reason began, however faintly, to assert its supremacy, the
improvement of every people has depended upon their obedience to its
dictates, and upon the success with which they have reduced to its
standard the whole of their actions. To understand, therefore, the
original divergence of France and England, we must seek it in the
circumstances that took place when this, which may be called the great
rebellion of the intellect, was first clearly seen.
If now, with a view to such inquiry, we examine the history of Europe,
we shall find that just at this period there sprung up the feudal
system: a vast scheme of polity, which, clumsy and imperfect as it was,
supplied many of the wants of the rude people among whom it arose.[273]
The connexion between it and the decline of the ecclesiastical spirit
is very obvious. For the feudal system was the first great secular plan
that had been seen in Europe since the formation of the civil law: it
was the first comprehensive attempt which had been made, during more
than four hundred years, to organize society according to temporal, not
according to spiritual circumstances, the basis of the whole arrangement
being merely the possession of land, and the performance of certain
military and pecuniary services.[274]
[273] Sir F. Palgrave (_English Commonwealth_, vol. ii. p. ccvi.) says,
'it is generally admitted, by the best authorities, that from
about the eleventh century benefices acquired the name of fiefs
or feuds;' and Robertson (_State of Europe_, note viii. in
_Works_, p. 393) supposes that the word _feudum_ does not occur
before 1008. But according to M. Guizot (_Civilisation en
France_, vol. iii. p. 238), 'il apparaît, pour la première fois,
dans une charte de Charles le Gros en 884.' This is a question
more curious than important; since whatever the origin of the
word may be, it is certain that the thing did not, and could not,
exist before the tenth century at the earliest: inasmuch as the
extreme disorganisation of society rendered so coercive an
institution impossible. M. Guizot, in another work (_Essais sur
l'Hist. de France_, p. 239), rightly says, 'Au X^e siècle
seulement, les rapports et les pouvoirs sociaux acquirent quelque
fixité.' See also his _Civilisation en Europe_, p. 90.
[274] 'La terre est tout dans ce système.... Le système féodal est comme
une religion de la terre.' _Origines du Droit_, in _[OE]uvres de
Michelet_, vol. ii. p. 302. 'Le caractère de la féodalité,
c'était la prédominance de la _réalité_ sur la _personnalité_, de
la terre sur l'homme.' _Eschbach_, _Etude du Droit_, p. 256.
This was, no doubt, a great step in European civilization, because it
set the first example of a large public polity in which the spiritual
classes as such had no recognized place;[275] and hence there followed
that struggle between feudality and the church, which has been observed
by several writers, but the origin of which has been strangely
overlooked. What, however, we have now to notice is, that by the
establishment of the feudal system, the spirit of protection, far from
being destroyed, was probably not even weakened, but only assumed a new
form. Instead of being spiritual, it became temporal. Instead of men
looking up to the church, they looked up to the nobles. For, as a
necessary consequence of this vast movement, or rather as a part of it,
the great possessors of land were now being organized into an hereditary
aristocracy.[276] In the tenth century, we find the first surnames:[277]
by the eleventh century most of the great offices had become hereditary
in the leading families:[278] and in the twelfth century armorial
bearings were invented, as well as other heraldic devices, which long
nourished the conceit of the nobles, and were valued by their
descendants as marks of that superiority of birth to which, during many
ages, all other superiority was considered subordinate.[279]
[275] According to the social and political arrangements from the fourth
to the tenth century, the clergy were so eminently a class apart,
that they were freed from 'burdens of the state,' and were not
obliged to engage in military services unless they thought proper
to do so. See _Neander's Hist. of the Church_, vol. iii. p. 195,
vol. v. pp. 133, 140; and _Petrie's Ecclesiast. Archit._ p. 382.
But under the feudal system this immunity was lost; and in regard
to performing services no separation of classes was admitted.
'After the feudal polity became established, we do not find that
there was any dispensation for ecclesiastical fiefs.' _Hallam's
Supplemental Notes_, p. 120; and for further proof of the loss of
the old privileges, compare _Grose's Military Antiquities_, vol.
i. pp. 5, 64; _Meyer_, _Instit. Judic._ vol. i. p. 257; _Turner's
Hist. of England_, vol. iv. p. 462; and _Mably's Observations_,
vol. i. pp. 434, 435: so that, as this writer says, p. 215,
'Chaque seigneur laïc avait gagné personnellement à la révolution
qui forma le gouvernement féodal; mais les évêques et les abbés,
en devenant souverains dans leurs terres, perdirent au contraire
beaucoup de leur pouvoir et de leur dignité.'
[276] The great change of turning life-possessions of land into
hereditary possessions, began late in the ninth century, being
initiated in France by a capitulary of Charles the Bald, in 877.
See _Allen on the Prerogative_, p. 210; _Spence's Origin of the
Laws of Europe_, pp. 282, 301; _Meyer_, _Instit. Judiciaires_,
vol. i. p. 206.
[277] That surnames first arose in the tenth century is stated by the
most competent authorities. See _Sismondi_, _Hist. de Français_,
vol. iii. pp. 452-455; _Hallam's Middle Ages_, vol. i. p. 138;
_Monteil_, _Hist. des divers Etats_, vol. iii. p. 268; _Petrie's
Ecclesiast. Archit._ pp. 277, 342. Koch (_Tableau des
Révolutions_, vol. i. p. 138) erroneously says, 'c'est
pareillement aux croisades que l'Europe doit l'usage des surnoms
de famille;' a double mistake, both as to the date and the cause,
since the introduction of surnames being part of a large social
movement, can under no circumstances be ascribed to a single
event.
[278] On this process from the end of the ninth to the twelfth century,
compare _Hallam's Supplemental Notes_, pp. 97, 98; _Dalrymple's
Hist. of Feudal Property_, p. 21; _Klimrath_, _Hist. du Droit_,
vol. i. p. 74.
[279] As to the origin of armorial bearings, which cannot be traced
higher than the twelfth century, see _Hallam's Middle Ages_, vol.
i. pp. 138, 139; _Ledwich_, _Antiquities of Ireland_, pp. 231,
232; _Origines du Droit_, in _[OE]uvres de Michelet_, vol. ii. p.
382.
Such was the beginning of the European aristocracy, in the sense in
which that word is commonly used. With the consolidation of its power,
feudality was made, in reference to the organization of society, the
successor of the church;[280] and the nobles, becoming hereditary,
gradually displaced in government, and in the general functions of
authority, the clergy, among whom the opposite principle of celibacy was
now firmly established.[281] It is, therefore, evident, that an inquiry
into the origin of the modern protective spirit does, in a great
measure, resolve itself into an inquiry into the origin of the
aristocratic power; since that power was the exponent, and, as it were,
the cover under which the spirit displayed itself. This, as we shall
hereafter see, is likewise connected with the great religious rebellion
of the sixteenth century; the success of which mainly depended on the
weakness of the protective principle that opposed it. But, reserving
this for future consideration, I will now endeavour to trace a few of
the circumstances which gave the aristocracy more power in France than
in England, and thus accustomed the French to a closer and more constant
obedience, and infused into them a more reverential spirit than that
which was usual in our country.
[280] For, as Lerminia says (_Philos. du Droit_, vol. i. p. 17), 'la loi
féodale n'est autre chose que la terre élevée à la souveraineté.'
On the decline of the church in consequence of the increased
feudal and secular spirit, see _Sismondi_, _Hist. des Français_,
vol. iii. p. 440, vol. iv. p. 88. In our own country, one fact
may be mentioned illustrative of the earliest encroachments of
laymen: namely, that, before the twelfth century, we find no
instance in England of the great seal being entrusted 'to the
keeping of a layman.' _Campbell's Chancellors_, vol. i. p. 61.
[281] Celibacy, on account of its supposed ascetic tendency, was
advocated and in some countries was enforced, at an early period;
but the first general and decisive movement in its favour was in
the middle of the eleventh century, before which time it was a
speculative doctrine, constantly disobeyed. See _Neander's Hist.
of the Church_, vol. vi. pp. 52, 61, 62, 72, 93, 94 note, vol.
vii. pp. 127-131; _Mosheim's Eccles. Hist._ vol. i. pp. 248, 249;
_Eccleston's English Antiq._ p. 95.
Soon after the middle of the eleventh century, and therefore while the
aristocracy was in the process of formation, England was conquered by
the Duke of Normandy, who naturally introduced the polity existing in
his own country.[282] But, in his hands, it underwent a modification
suitable to the new circumstances in which he was placed. He, being in a
foreign country, the general of a successful army composed partly of
mercenaries,[283] was able to dispense with some of those feudal usages
which were customary in France. The great Norman lords, thrown as
strangers into the midst of a hostile population, were glad to accept
estates from the crown on almost any terms that would guarantee their
own security. Of this, William naturally availed himself. For, by
granting baronies on conditions favourable to the crown, he prevented
the barons[284] from possessing that power which they exercised in
France, and which, but for this, they would have exercised in England.
The result was, that the most powerful of our nobles became amenable to
the law, or, at all events, to the authority of the king.[285] Indeed,
to such an extent was this carried, that William, shortly before his
death, obliged all the landowners to render their fealty to him; thus
entirely neglecting that peculiarity of feudalism, according to which
each vassal was separately dependent on his own lord.[286]
[282] Where it was particularly flourishing: 'la féodalité fut organisée
en Normandie plus fortement et plus systématiquement que partout
ailleurs en France.' _Klimrath_, _Travaux sur l'Hist. du Droit_,
vol. i. p. 130. The 'coutume de Normandie' was, at a much later
period, only to be found in the old 'grand coutumier.'
_Klimrath_, vol. ii. p. 160. On the peculiar tenacity with which
the Normans clung to it, see _Lettres d'Aguesseau_, vol. ii. pp.
225, 226: 'accoutumés à respecter leur coutume comme l'évangile.'
[283] _Mills' Hist. of Chivalry_, vol. i. p. 387; _Turner's Hist. of
England_, vol. ii. p. 390, vol. iv. p. 76. Mercenary troops were
also employed by his immediate successors. _Grose's Military
Antiq._ vol. i. p. 55.
[284] On the different meanings attached to the word 'baron,' compare
_Klimrath_, _Hist. du Droit_, vol. ii. p. 40, with _Meyer_,
_Instit. Judiciaires_, vol. i. p. 105. But M. Guizot says, what
seems most likely, 'il est probable que ce nom fut commun
originairement à tous les vassaux immédiats de la couronne, liés
au roi _per servitium militare_, par le service de chevalier.'
_Essais_, p. 265.
[285] _Meyer_, _Instit. Judic._ vol. i. p. 242; _Turner's Hist. of
England_, vol. iii. p. 220. The same policy of reducing the
nobles was followed up by Henry II., who destroyed the baronial
castles. _Turner_, vol. iv. p. 223. Compare _Lingard_, vol. i.
pp. 315, 371.
[286] 'Deinde c[oe]pit homagia hominum totius Angliæ, et juramentum
fidelitatis cujuscumque essent feodi vel tenementi.' _Matthæi
Westmonast. Flores Historiarum_, vol. ii. p. 9.
But in France, the course of affairs was very different. In that country
the great nobles held their lands, not so much by grant, as by
prescription.[287] A character of antiquity was thus thrown over their
rights; which, when added to the weakness of the crown, enabled them to
exercise on their own estates, all the functions of independent
sovereigns.[288] Even when they received their first great check, under
Philip Augustus,[289] they, in his reign, and indeed long after, wielded
a power quite unknown in England. Thus, to give only two instances: the
right of coining money, which has always been regarded as an attribute
of sovereignty, was never allowed in England, even to the greatest
nobles.[290] But in France it was exercised by many persons
independently of the crown, and was not abrogated until the sixteenth
century.[291] A similar remark holds good of what was called the right
of private war; by virtue of which the nobles were allowed to attack
each other, and disturb the peace of the country with the prosecution of
their private feuds. In England the aristocracy were never strong enough
to have this admitted as a right,[292] though they too often exercised
it as a practice. But in France it became a part of the established law;
it was incorporated into the text-books of feudalism, and it is
distinctly recognized by Louis IX. and Philip the Fair,--two kings of
considerable energy, who did every thing in their power to curtail the
enormous authority of the nobles.[293]
[287] See some good remarks on this difference between the French and
English nobles, in _Hallam's Middle Ages_, vol. ii. pp. 99, 100.
Mably (_Observations_, vol. i. p. 60) says: 'en effet, on
négligea, sur la fin de la première race, de conserver les titres
primordiaux de ses possessions.' As to the old customary French
law of prescription, see _Giraud_, _Précis de l'Ancien Droit_,
pp. 79, 80.
[288] _Mably_, _Observations sur l'Hist. de France_, vol. i. pp. 70,
162, 178.
[289] On the policy of Philip Augustus in regard to the nobles, see
_Mably_, _Observations_, vol. i. p. 246; _Lerminier_, _Philos. du
Droit_, vol. i. p. 265; _Boulainvilliers_, _Hist. de l'Ancien
Gouvernement_, vol. iii. pp. 147-150; _Guizot_, _Civilisation en
France_, vol. iv. pp. 134, 135; _Courson_, _Hist. des Peuples
Brétons_, Paris, 1846, vol. ii. p. 350.
[290] 'No subjects ever enjoyed the right of coining silver in England
without the royal stamp and superintendence; a remarkable proof
of the restraint in which the feudal aristocracy was always held
in this country.' _Hallam's Middle Ages_, vol. i. p. 154.
[291] _Brougham's Polit. Philos._ 1849, vol. i. p. 446. In addition to
the evidence there given on the right of coinage, see _Mably's
Observations_, vol. i. p. 424, vol. ii. pp. 296, 297; and
_Turner's Normandy_, vol. ii. p. 261.
[292] _Hallam's Supplemental Notes_, pp. 304, 305.
[293] 'Saint-Louis consacra le droit de guerre.... Philippe le Bel, qui
voulut l'abolir, finit par le rétablir.' _Montlosier_, _Monarchie
Française_, vol. i. pp. 127, 202: see also pp. 434, 435, and vol.
ii. pp. 435, 436. Mably (_Observations_, vol. ii. p. 338)
mentions 'lettres-patentes de Philippe-de-Valois du 8 février
1330, pour permettre dans le duché d'Aquitaine les guerres
privées,' &c.; and he adds, 'le 9 avril 1353 le roi Jean
renouvelle l'ordonnance de S. Louis, nommée la quarantaine du
roi, touchant les guerres privées.'
Out of this difference between the aristocratic power of France and
England, there followed many consequences of great importance. In our
country the nobles, being too feeble to contend with the crown, were
compelled, in self-defence, to ally themselves with the people.[294]
About a hundred years after the Conquest, the Normans and Saxons
amalgamated; and both parties united against the king in order to uphold
their common rights.[295] The Magna Charta, which John was forced to
yield contained concessions to the aristocracy; but its most important
stipulations were those in favour of 'all classes of freemen.'[296]
Within half a century, fresh contests broke out; the barons were again
associated with the people, and again there followed the same
results,--the extension of popular privileges being each time the
condition and the consequence of this singular alliance. In the same
way, when the Earl of Leicester raised a rebellion against Henry III.,
he found his own party too weak to make head against the crown. He,
therefore, applied to the people:[297] and it is to him that our House
of Commons owes its origin; since he, in 1264, set the first example of
issuing writs to cities and boroughs; thus calling upon citizens and
burgesses to take their place in what had hitherto been a parliament
composed entirely of priests and nobles.[298]
[294] Sir Francis Palgrave (in his _Rise and Progress of the English
Commonwealth_, vol. i. pp. 51-55) has attempted to estimate the
results produced by the Norman Conquest; but he omits to notice
this, which was the most important consequence of all.
[295] On this political union between Norman barons and Saxon citizens,
of which the first clear indication is at the end of the twelfth
century, compare _Campbell's Chancellors_, vol. i. p. 113, with
_Brougham's Polit. Philos._ vol. i. p. 339, vol. iii. p. 222.
In regard to the general question of the amalgamation of races, we have
three distinct kinds of evidence:
1st. Towards the end of the twelfth century, a new language began to be
formed by blending Norman with Saxon; and English literature, properly
so called, dates from the commencement of the thirteenth century.
Compare _Madden's Preface to Layamon_, 1847, vol. i. pp. xx. xxi., with
_Turner's Hist. of England_, vol. viii. pp. 214, 217, 436, 437.
2nd. We have the specific statement of a writer in the reign of Henry
II., that 'sic permixtæ sunt nationes ut vix discerni possit hodie, de
liberis loquor, quis Anglicus, quis Normannus sit genere.' _Note in
Hallam's Middle Ages_, vol. ii. p. 106.
3rd. Before the thirteenth century had passed away, the difference of
dress, which in that state of society would survive many other
differences, was no longer observed, and the distinctive peculiarities
of Norman and Saxon attire had disappeared. See _Strutt's View of the
Dress and Habits of the People of England_, vol. ii. p. 67, edit.
Planché, 1842, 4to.
[296] 'An equal distribution of civil rights to all classes of freemen
forms the peculiar beauty of the charter.' _Hallam's Middle
Ages_, vol. ii. p. 108. This is very finely noticed in one of
Lord Chatham's great speeches. _Parl. Hist._ vol. xvi. p. 662.
[297] Compare _Meyer_, _Instit. Judic._ vol. ii. p. 39, with _Lingard's
England_, vol. ii. p. 127, and _Somers Tracts_, vol. vi. p. 92.
[298] 'He is to be honoured as the founder of a representative system of
government in this country.' _Campbell's Chief-Justices_, vol. i.
p. 61. Some writers (see, for instance, _Dalrymple's Hist. of
Feudal Property_, p. 332) suppose that burgesses were summoned
before the reign of Henry III.: but this assertion is not only
unsupported by evidence, but is in itself improbable; because at
an early period the citizens, though rapidly increasing in power,
were hardly important enough to warrant such a step being taken.
The best authorities are now agreed to refer the origin of the
House of Commons to the period mentioned in the text. See
_Hallam's Supplement_, _Notes_, pp. 335-339; _Spence's Origin of
the Laws of Europe_, p. 512; _Campbell's Chancellors_, vol. i. p.
155; _Lingard's England_, vol. ii. p. 138; _Guizot's Essais_, p.
319. The notion of tracing this to the wittenagemot is as absurd
as finding the origin of juries in the system of compurgators;
both of which were favourite errors in the seventeenth, and even
in the eighteenth century. In regard to the wittenagemot, this
idea still lingers among antiquaries: but, in regard to
compurgators, even they have abandoned their old ground, and it
is now well understood that trial by jury did not exist till long
after the Conquest. Compare _Palgrave's English Commonwealth_,
part i. pp. 243 seq., with _Meyer_, _Instit. Judic._ vol. ii. pp.
152-173. There are few things in our history so irrational as the
admiration expressed by a certain class of writers for the
institutions of our barbarous Anglo-Saxon ancestors.
The English aristocracy being thus forced, by their own weakness, to
rely on the people,[299] it naturally followed, that the people imbibed
that tone of independence, and that lofty bearing, of which our civil
and political institutions are the consequence, rather than the cause.
It is to this, and not to any fanciful peculiarity of race, that we owe
the sturdy and enterprising spirit for which the inhabitants of this
island have long been remarkable. It is this which has enabled us to
baffle all the arts of oppression, and to maintain for centuries
liberties which no other nation has ever possessed. And it is this which
has fostered and upheld those great municipal privileges, which,
whatever be their faults, have, at least, the invaluable merit of
accustoming free men to the exercise of power, giving to citizens the
management of their own city, and perpetuating the idea of independence,
by preserving it in a living type, and by enlisting in its support the
interests and affections of individual men.
[299] Montlosier, with the fine spirit of a French noble, taunts the
English aristocracy with this: 'En France la noblesse, attaquée
sans cesse, s'est défendue sans cesse. Elle a subi l'oppression;
elle ne l'a point acceptée. En Angleterre, elle a couru dès la
première commotion, se réfugier dans les rangs des bourgeois, et
sous leur protection. Elle a abdiqué ainsi son existence.'
_Montlosier_, _Monarchie Française_, vol. iii. p. 162. Compare an
instructive passage in _De Staël_, _Consid. sur la Révolution_,
vol. i. p. 421.
But the habits of self-government which, under these circumstances, were
cultivated in England, were, under opposite circumstances, neglected in
France. The great French lords being too powerful to need the people,
were unwilling to seek their alliance.[300] The result was, that, amid a
great variety of forms and names, society was, in reality, only divided
into two classes--the upper and the lower, the protectors and the
protected. And, looking at the ferocity of the prevailing manners, it
is not too much to say, that in France, under the feudal system, every
man was either a tyrant or a slave. Indeed, in most instances, the two
characters were combined in the same person. For, the practice of
subinfeudation, which in our country was actively checked, became in
France almost universal.[301] By this, the great lords having granted
lands on condition of fealty and other services to certain persons,
these last subgranted them; that is, made them over on similar
conditions to other persons, who had likewise the power of bestowing
them on a fourth party, and so on in an endless series;[302] thus
forming a long chain of dependence, and, as it were, organizing
submission into a system.[303] In England, on the other hand, such
arrangements were so unsuited to the general state of affairs, that it
is doubtful if they were ever carried on to any extent; and, at all
events, it is certain that, in the reign of Edward I., they were finally
stopped by the statute known to lawyers as _Quia emptores_.[304]
[300] See some good remarks in _Mably_, _Observations sur l'Hist. de
France_, vol. iii. pp. 114, 115.
[301] _Hallam's Middle Ages_, vol. i. p. 111.
[302] 'Originally there was no limit to subinfeudation.' _Brougham's
Polit. Philos._ vol. i. p. 279.
[303] A living French historian boasts that, in his own country, 'toute
la société féodale formait ainsi une échelle de clientelle et de
patronage.' _Cassagnac_, _Révolution Française_, vol. i. p. 459.
[304] This is 18 Edw. I. c. 1; respecting which, see _Blackstone's
Comment._ vol. ii. p. 91, vol. iv. p. 425; _Reeve's Hist. of
English Law_, vol. ii. p. 223; _Dalrymple's Hist. of Feudal
Property_, pp. 102, 243, 340.
Thus early was there a great social divergence between France and
England. The consequences of this were still more obvious when, in the
fourteenth century, the feudal system rapidly decayed in both countries.
For in England, the principle of protection being feeble, men were in
some degree accustomed to self-government; and they were able to hold
fast by those great institutions which would have been ill adapted to
the more obedient habits of the French people. Our municipal privileges,
the rights of our yeomanry, and the security of our copyholders, were,
from the fourteenth to the seventeenth centuries, the three most
important guarantees for the liberties of England.[305] In France such
guarantees were impossible. The real division being between those who
were noble, and those who were not noble, no room was left for the
establishment of intervening classes; but all were compelled to fall
into one of these two great ranks.[306] The French have never had any
thing answering to our yeomanry; nor were copyholders recognized by
their laws. And, although they attempted to introduce into their
country municipal institutions, all such efforts were futile; for, while
they copied the forms of liberty, they lacked that bold and sturdy
spirit by which alone liberty can be secured. They had, indeed, its
image and superscription; but they wanted the sacred fire that warms the
image into life. Every thing else they possessed. The show and
appliances of freedom were there. Charters were granted to their towns,
and privileges conceded to their magistrates. All, however, was useless.
For it is not by the wax and parchment of lawyers that the independence
of men can be preserved. Such things are the mere externals; they set
off liberty to advantage; they are as its dress and paraphernalia, its
holiday-suit in times of peace and quiet. But, when the evil days set
in, when the invasions of despotism have begun, liberty will be
retained, not by those who can show the oldest deeds and the largest
charters, but by those who have been most inured to habits of
independence, most accustomed to think and act for themselves, and most
regardless of that insidious protection which the upper classes have
always been so ready to bestow, that, in many countries, they have now
left nothing worth the trouble to protect.
[305] The history of the decay of that once most important class, the
English yeomanry, is an interesting subject, and one for which I
have collected considerable materials; at present, I will only
say, that its decline was first distinctly perceptible in the
latter half of the seventeenth century, and was consummated by
the rapidly-increasing power of the commercial and manufacturing
classes early in the eighteenth century. After losing their
influence, their numbers naturally diminished, and they made way
for other bodies of men, whose habits of mind were less
prejudiced, and therefore better suited to that new state which
society assumed in the last age. I mention this, because some
writers regret the almost total destruction of the yeoman
freeholders; overlooking the fact, that they are disappearing,
not in consequence of any violent revolution or stretch of
arbitrary power, but simply by the general march of affairs;
society doing away with what it no longer requires. Compare
_Kay's Social Condition of the People_, vol. i. pp. 43, 602, with
a letter from Wordsworth in _Bunbury's Correspond. of Hanmer_,
p. 440; a note in _Mill's Polit. Econ._ vol. i. pp. 311, 312;
another in _Nichols's Lit. Anec._ vol. v. p. 323; and _Sinclair's
Correspond._ vol. i. p. 229.
[306] This is stated as an admitted fact by French writers living in
different periods and holding different opinions; but all agreed
as to there being only two divisions: 'comme en France on est
toujours ou noble, ou roturier, et qu'il n'y a pas de milieu.'
_Mém. de Rivarol_, p. 7. 'La grande distinction des nobles et des
roturiers.' _Giraud_, _Précis de l'Ancien Droit_, p. 10. Indeed,
according to the Coutumes, the nobles and roturiers attained
their majority at different ages. _Klimrath_, _Hist. du Droit_,
vol. ii. p. 249 (erroneously stated in _Story's Conflict of
Laws_, pp. 56, 79, 114). See further respecting this capital
distinction, _Mém. de Duplessis Mornay_, vol. ii. p. 230
('agréable à la noblesse et au peuple'); _[OE]uvres de Turgot_,
vol. viii. pp. 222, 232, 237; _Bunbury's Correspond. of Hanmer_,
p. 256; _Mably_, _Observations_, vol. iii. p. 263; and _Mercier
sur Rousseau_, vol. i. p. 38: 'On étoit roturier, vilain, homme
de néant, canaille, dès qu'on ne s'appelloit plus marquis, baron,
comte, chevalier, etc.'
And so it was in France. The towns, with few exceptions, fell at the
first shock; and the citizens lost those municipal privileges which, not
being grafted on the national character, it was found impossible to
preserve. In the same way, in our country, power naturally, and by the
mere force of the democratic movement, fell into the hands of the House
of Commons; whose authority has ever since, notwithstanding occasional
checks, continued to increase at the expense of the more aristocratic
parts of the legislature. The only institution answering to this in
France was the States-General; which, however, had so little influence,
that, in the opinion of native historians, it was hardly to be called an
institution at all.[307] Indeed, the French were, by this time, so
accustomed to the idea of protection, and to the subordination which
that idea involves, that they were little inclined to uphold an
establishment which, in their constitution, was the sole representative
of the popular element. The result was, that, by the fourteenth century,
the liberties of Englishmen were secured;[308] and, since then, their
only concern has been to increase what they have already obtained. But
in that same century, in France, the protective spirit assumed a new
form; the power of the aristocracy was, in a great measure, succeeded by
the power of the crown; and there began that tendency to centralization
which, having been pushed still further, first under Louis XIV., and
afterwards under Napoleon, has become the bane of the French
people.[309] For by it the feudal ideas of superiority and submission
have long survived that barbarous age to which alone they were suited.
Indeed, by their transmigration, they seemed to have gained fresh
strength. In France, every thing is referred to one common centre, in
which all civil functions are absorbed. All improvements of any
importance, all schemes for bettering even the material condition of the
people must receive the sanction of government; the local authorities
not being considered equal to such arduous tasks. In order that inferior
magistrates may not abuse their power, no power is conferred upon them.
The exercise of independent jurisdiction is almost unknown. Every thing
that is done must be done at head quarters.[310] The government is
believed to see every thing, know every thing, and provide for every
thing. To enforce this monstrous monopoly there has been contrived a
machinery well worthy of the design. The entire country is covered by an
immense array of officials;[311] who, in the regularity of their
hierarchy, and in the order of their descending series, form an
admirable emblem of that feudal principle, which ceasing to be
territorial, has now become personal. In fact, the whole business of the
state is conducted on the supposition that no man either knows his own
interest, or is fit to take care of himself. So paternal are the
feelings of government, so eager for the welfare of its subjects, that
it has drawn within its jurisdiction the most rare, as well as the most
ordinary, actions of life. In order that the French may not make
imprudent wills, it has limited the right of bequest; and, for fear that
they should bequeath their property wrongly, it prevents them from
bequeathing the greater part of it at all. In order that society may be
protected by its police, it has directed that no one shall travel
without a passport. And when men are actually travelling, they are met
at every turn by the same interfering spirit, which, under pretence of
protecting their persons, shackles their liberty. Into another matter,
far more serious, the French have carried the same principle. Such is
their anxiety to protect society against criminals, that, when an
offender is placed at the bar of one of their courts, there is exhibited
a spectacle which is no idle boast to say we, in England, could not
tolerate for a single hour. There is seen a great public magistrate, by
whom the prisoner is about to be tried, examining him in order to
ascertain his supposed guilt, re-examining him, cross-examining him,
performing the duties, not of a judge, but of a prosecutor, and bringing
to bear against the unhappy man all the authority of his judicial
position, all his professional subtlety, all his experience, all the
dexterity of his practised understanding. This is, perhaps, the most
alarming of the many instances in which the tendencies of the French
intellect are shown; because it supplies a machinery ready for the
purposes of absolute power; because it brings the administration of
justice into disrepute, by associating with it an idea of unfairness;
and because it injures that calm and equable temper, which it is
impossible fully to maintain under a system that makes a magistrate an
advocate, and turns the judge into a partizan. But this, mischievous as
it is, only forms part of a far larger scheme. For, to the method by
which criminals are discovered, there is added an analogous method, by
which crime is prevented. With this view, the people, even in their
ordinary amusements, are watched and carefully superintended. Lest they
should harm each other by some sudden indiscretion, precautions are
taken similar to those with which a father might surround his children.
In their fairs, at their theatres, their concerts, and their other
places of public resort, there are always present soldiers, who are sent
to see that no mischief is done, that there is no unnecessary crowding,
that no one uses harsh language, that no one quarrels with his
neighbour. Nor does the vigilance of the government stop there. Even the
education of children is brought under the control of the state, instead
of being regulated by the judgment of masters or parents.[312] And the
whole plan is executed with such energy, that, as the French while men
are never let alone, just so while children they are never left
alone.[313] At the same time, it being reasonably supposed that the
adults thus kept in pupilage cannot be proper judges of their own food,
the government has provided for this also. Its prying eye follows the
butcher to the shambles, and the baker to the oven. By its paternal
hand, meat is examined lest it should be bad, and bread is weighed lest
it should be light. In short, without multiplying instances, with which
most readers must be familiar, it is enough to say that in France, as in
every country where the protective principle is active, the government
has established a monopoly of the worst kind; a monopoly which comes
home to the business and bosoms of men, follows them in their daily
avocations, troubles them with its petty, meddling spirit, and, what is
worse than all, diminishes their responsibility to themselves; thus
depriving them of what is the only real education that most minds
receive,--the constant necessity of providing for future contingencies,
and the habit of grappling with the difficulties of life.
[307] 'Les états-généraux sont portés dans la liste de nos institutions.
Je ne sais cependant s'il est permis de donner ce nom à des
rassemblemens aussi irréguliers.' _Montlosier_, _Monarchie
Française_, vol. i. p. 266. 'En France, les états-généraux, au
moment même de leur plus grand éclat, c'est à dire dans le cours
du xiv^e siècle, n'ont guère été que des accidents, un pouvoir
national et souvent invoqué, mais non un établissement
constitutionnel.' _Guizot_, _Essais_, p. 253. See also _Mably_,
_Observations_, vol. iii. p. 147; and _Sismondi_, _Hist. des
Français_, vol. xiv. p. 642.
[308] This is frankly admitted by one of the most candid and enlightened
of all the foreign writers on our history, _Guizot_, _Essais_, p.
297: 'En 1307, les droits qui devaient enfanter en Angleterre un
gouvernement libre étaient définitivement reconnus.'
[309] See an account of the policy of Philip the Fair, in _Mably_,
_Observations_, vol. ii. pp. 25-44; in _Boulainvilliers_, _Ancien
Gouvernement_, vol. i. pp. 292, 314, vol. ii. pp. 37, 38; and in
_Guizot_, _Civilisation en France_, vol. iv. pp. 170-192. M.
Guizot says, perhaps too strongly, that his reign was 'la
métamorphose de la royauté en despotisme,' On the connexion of
this with the centralizing movement, see _Tocqueville's
Démocratie_, vol. i. p. 307: 'Le goût de la centralisation et la
manie réglementaire remontent, en France, à l'époque où les
légistes sont entrés dans le gouvernement; ce qui nous reporte au
temps de Philippe le Bel.' Tennemann also notices, that in his
reign the 'Rechtstheorie' began to exercise influence; but this
learned writer takes a purely metaphysical view, and has
therefore misunderstood the more general social tendency. _Gesch.
der Philos._ vol. viii. p. 823.
[310] As several writers on law notice this system with a lenient eye
_Origines du Droit Français_, in _[OE]uvres de Michelet_, vol. ii.
p. 321; and _Eschbach_, _Etude du Droit_, p. 129: 'le système
énergique de la centralisation', it may be well to state how it
actually works.
Mr. Bulwer, writing twenty years ago, says: 'Not only cannot a
commune determine its own expenses without the consent of the
minister or one of his deputed functionaries, it cannot even
erect a building, the cost of which shall have been sanctioned,
without the plan being adopted by a board of public works
attached to the central authority, and having the supervision and
direction of every public building throughout the Kingdom.'
_Bulwer's Monarchy of the Middle Classes_, 1836, vol. ii. p. 262.
M. Tocqueville, writing in the present year (1856), says, 'Sous
l'ancien régime, _comme de nos jours_, il n'y avait ville, bourg,
village, ni si petit hameau en France, hôpital, fabrique, couvent
ni collège, qui pût avoir une volonté indépendante dans ses
affaires particulières, ni administrer à sa volonté ses propres
biens. Alors, _comme aujourd'hui_, l'administration tenait donc
tous les Français en tutelle, et si l'insolence du mot ne s'était
pas encore produite, on avait du moins déjà la chose.'
_Tocqueville_, _l'Ancien Régime_, 1856, pp. 79, 80.
[311] The number of civil functionaries in France, who are paid by the
government to trouble the people, passes all belief, being
estimated, at different periods during the present century, at
from 138,000 to upwards of 800,000. _Tocqueville_, _de la
Démocratie_, vol. i. p. 220; _Alison's Europe_, vol. xiv. pp. 127,
140; _Kay's Condition of the People_, vol. i. p. 272; _Laing's
Notes_, 2d series, p. 185. Mr. Laing, writing in 1850, says: 'In
France, at the expulsion of Louis Philippe, the civil
functionaries were stated to amount to 807,030 individuals.'
[312] 'The government in France possesses control over all the education
of the country, with the exception of the colleges for the
education of the clergy, which are termed seminaries, and their
subordinate institutions.' _Report on the State of Superior
Education in France in_ 1843, in _Journal of Statist. Soc._ vol.
vi. p. 304. On the steps taken during the power of Napoleon, see
_Alison's Europe_, vol. viii. p. 203: 'Nearly the whole education
of the empire was brought effectually under the direction and
appointment of government.'
[313] Much attention is paid to the _surveillance_ of pupils; it being a
fundamental principle of French education, that children should
never be left alone. _Report on General Education in France in_
1842, in _Journal of Statist. Soc._ vol. v. p. 20.
The consequence of all this has been, that the French, though a great
and splendid people,--a people full of mettle, high-spirited, abounding
in knowledge, and perhaps less oppressed by superstition than any other
in Europe,--have always been found unfit to exercise political power.
Even when they have possessed it, they have never been able to combine
permanence with liberty. One of these two elements has always been
wanting. They have had free governments, which have not been stable.
They have had stable governments, which have not been free. Owing to
their fearless temper, they have rebelled, and no doubt will continue to
rebel, against so evil a condition.[314] But it does not need the tongue
of a prophet to tell that, for at least some generations, all such
efforts must be unsuccessful. For men can never be free, unless they are
educated to freedom. And this is not the education which is to be found
in schools, or gained from books; but it is that which consists in
self-discipline, in self-reliance, and in self-government. These, in
England, are matters of hereditary descent--traditional habits, which we
imbibe in our youth, and which regulate us in the conduct of life. The
old associations of the French all point in another direction. At the
slightest difficulty, they call on the government for support. What with
us is competition, with them is monopoly. That which we effect by
private companies, they effect by public boards. They cannot cut a
canal, or lay down a railroad, without appealing to the government for
aid. With them, the people look to the rulers; with us, the rulers look
to the people. With them, the executive is the centre from which society
radiates;[315] with us, society is the instigator, and the executive the
organ. The difference in the result has corresponded with the difference
in the process. We have been made fit for political power, by the long
exercise of civil rights; they, neglecting the exercise, think they can
at once begin with the power. We have always shown a determination to
uphold our liberties, and, when the times are fitting, to increase them;
and this we have done with a decency and a gravity natural to men to
whom such subjects have long been familiar. But the French, always
treated as children, are, in political matters, children still. And as
they have handled the most weighty concerns in that gay and volatile
spirit which adorns their lighter literature, it is no wonder that they
have failed in matters where the first condition of success is, that men
should have been long accustomed to rely upon their own energies, and
that before they try their skill in a political struggle, their
resources should have been sharpened by that preliminary discipline,
which a contest with the difficulties of civil life can never fail to
impart.
[314] A distinguished French author says: 'La France souffre du mal du
siècle; elle en est plus malade qu'aucun autre pays; ce mal c'est
la haine de l'autorité.' _Custine_, _Russie_, vol. ii. p. 136.
Compare, _Rey_, _Science Sociale_, vol. ii. p. 86 note.
[315] It is to the activity of this protective and centralizing spirit
that we must ascribe, what a very great authority noticed thirty
years ago, as 'le défaut de spontanéité, qui caractérise les
institutions de la France moderne.' _Meyer_, _Instit. Judic._
vol. iv. p. 536. It is also this which, in literature and in
science, makes them favour the establishment of academies; and it
is probably to the same principle that their jurists owe their
love of codification. All these are manifestations of an
unwillingness to rely on the general march of affairs, and show
an undue contempt for the unaided conclusions of private men.
These are among the considerations by which we must be guided, in
estimating the probable destinies of the great countries of Europe. But
what we are now rather concerned with is, to notice how the opposite
tendencies of France and England long continued to be displayed in the
condition and treatment of their aristocracy; and how from this there
naturally followed some striking differences between the war conducted
by the Fronde, and that waged by the Long Parliament.
When, in the fourteenth century, the authority of the French kings began
rapidly to increase, the political influence of the nobility was, of
course, correspondingly diminished. What, however, proves the extent to
which their power had taken root, is the undoubted fact, that,
notwithstanding this to them unfavourable circumstance, the people were
never able to emancipate themselves from their control.[316] The
relation the nobles bore to the throne became entirely changed; that
which they bore to the people remained almost the same. In England,
slavery, or villenage, as it is mildly termed, quickly diminished, and
was extinct by the end of the sixteenth century.[317] In France, it
lingered on two hundred years later, and was only destroyed in that
great Revolution by which the possessors of ill-gotten power were called
to so sharp an account.[318] Thus, too, until the last seventy years,
the nobles were in France exempt from those onerous taxes which
oppressed the people. The taille and corvée were heavy and grievous
exactions, but they fell solely on men of ignoble birth;[319] for the
French aristocracy, being a high and chivalrous race, would have deemed
it an insult to their illustrious descent, if they had been taxed to the
same amount as those whom they despised as their inferiors.[320]
Indeed, every thing tended to nurture this general contempt. Every
thing was contrived to humble one class, and exalt the other. For the
nobles there were reserved the best appointments in the church, and also
the most important military posts.[321] The privilege of entering the
army as officers was confined to them;[322] and they alone possessed a
prescriptive right to belong to the cavalry.[323] At the same time, and
to avoid the least chance of confusion, an equal vigilance was displayed
in the most trifling matters, and care was taken to prevent any
similarity, even in the amusements of the two classes. To such a pitch
was this brought, that, in many parts of France, the right of having an
aviary or a dovecote depended entirely on a man's rank; and no
Frenchman, whatever his wealth might be, could keep pigeons, unless he
were a noble; it being considered that these recreations were too
elevated for persons of plebeian origin.[324]
[316] Mably (_Observations_, vol. iii. pp. 154, 155, 352-362) has
collected some striking evidence of the tyranny of the French
nobles in the sixteenth century; and as to the wanton cruelty
with which they exercised their power in the seventeenth century,
see _Des Réaux_, _Historiettes_, vol. vii. p. 155, vol. viii. p.
79, vol. ix. pp. 40, 61, 62, vol. x. pp. 255-257. In the
eighteenth century, matters were somewhat better; but still the
subordination was excessive, and the people were poor,
ill-treated, and miserable. Compare _[OE]uvres de Turgot_, vol.
iv. p. 139; _Letter from the Earl of Cork_, dated Lyons, 1754, in
_Burton's Diary_, vol. iv. p. 80; the statement of Fox, in _Parl.
Hist._ vol. xxxi. p. 406; _Jefferson's Correspond._ vol. ii. p.
45; and _Smith's Tour on the Continent_, edit. 1793, vol. iii.
pp. 201, 202.
[317] Mr. Eccleston (_English Antiq._ p. 138) says, that in 1450
'villenage had almost passed away;' and according to Mr. Thornton
(_Over-Population_, p. 182), 'Sir Thomas Smith, who wrote about
the year 1550, declares that he had never met with any personal
or domestic slaves; and that the villains, or predial slaves,
still to be found, were so few, as to be scarcely worth
mentioning.' Mr. Hallam can find no 'unequivocal testimony to the
existence of villenage' later than 1574. _Middle Ages_, vol. ii.
p. 312; see, to the same effect, _Barrington on the Statutes_,
pp. 308, 309. If, however, my memory does not deceive me, I have
met with evidence of it in the reign of James I., but I cannot
recall the passage.
[318] M. Cassagnac (_Causes de la Révolution_, vol. iii. p. 11) says:
'Chose surprenante, il y avait encore, au 4 août 1789, _un
million cinq cent mille serfs de corps_;' and M. Giraud (_Précis
de l'Ancien Droit_, Paris, 1852, p. 3), 'jusqu'à la révolution
une division fondamentale partageait les personnes en personnes
libres et personnes sujettes à condition servile.' A few years
before the Revolution, this shameful distinction was abolished by
Louis XVI. in his own domains. Compare _Eschbach_, _Etude du
Droit_, pp. 271, 272, with _Du Mesnil_, _Mém. sur le Prince le
Brun_, p. 94. I notice this particularly, because M. Monteil, a
learned and generally accurate writer, supposes that the
abolition took place earlier than it really did. _Hist. des
divers Etats_, vol. vi. p. 101.
[319] _Cassagnac_, _de la Révolution_, vol. i. pp. 122, 173; _Giraud_,
_Ancien Droit_, p. 11; _Soulavie_, _Mém. de Louis XVI_, vol. vi.
p. 156; _Mém. au Roi sur les Municipalités_, in _[OE]uvres de
Turgot_, vol. vii. p. 423; _Mém. de Genlis_, vol. i. p. 200.
Further information respecting the amount and nature of these
vexatious impositions will be found in _De Thou_, _Hist. Univ._
vol. xiii. p. 24, vol. xiv. p. 118; _Sainte-Aulaire_, _Hist. de
la Fronde_, vol. i. p. 125; _Tocqueville_, _Ancien Régime_, pp.
135, 191, 420, 440; _Sully_, _[OE]conomies Royales_, vol. ii. p.
412, vol. iii. p. 226, vol. iv. p. 199, vol. v. pp. 339, 410,
vol. vi. p. 94; _Relat. des Ambassad. Vénit._ vol. i. p. 96;
_Mably_, _Observations_, vol. iii. pp. 355, 356;
_Boulainvilliers_, _Ancien Gouvernement_, vol. iii. p. 109; _Le
Vassor_, _Hist. de Louis XIII_, vol. ii. p. 29; _Mém. d'Omer
Talon_, vol. ii. pp. 103, 369; _Mém. de Montglat_, vol. i. p. 82;
_Tocqueville_, _Règne de Louis XV_, vol. i. pp. 87, 332;
_[OE]uvres de Turgot_, vol. i. p. 372, vol. iv. pp. 58, 59, 74,
75, 242, 278, vol. v. pp. 226, 242, vol. vi. p. 144, vol. viii.
pp. 152, 280.
[320] So deeply rooted were these feelings, that, even in 1789, the very
year the Revolution broke out, it was deemed a great concession
that the nobles 'will consent, indeed, to equal taxation.' See a
letter from Jefferson to Jay, dated Paris, May 9th, 1789, in
_Jefferson's Corresp._ vol. ii. pp. 462, 463. Compare _Mercier
sur Rousseau_, vol. i. p. 136.
[321] 'Les nobles, qui avaient le privilége exclusif des grandes
dignités et des gros bénéfices.' _Mém. de Rivarol_, p. 97: see
also _Mém. de Bouillé_, vol. i. p. 56; _Lemontey_,
_Etablissement Monarchique_, p. 337; _Daniel_, _Hist. de la
Milice Françoise_, vol. ii. p. 556; _Campan_, _Mém. sur
Marie-Antoinette_, vol. i. pp. 238, 239.
[322] 'L'ancien régime n'avait admis que des nobles pour officiers.'
_Mém. de Roland_, vol. i. p. 398. Ségur mentions that, early in
the reign of Louis XVI., 'les nobles seuls avaient le droit
d'entrer au service comme sous-lieutenans.' _Mém. de Ségur_, vol.
i. p. 65. Compare pp. 117, 265-271, with _Mém. de Genlis_,
vol. iii. p. 74, and _De Staël_, _Consid. sur la Rév._ vol. i.
p. 123.
[323] Thus, De Thou says of Henry III., 'il remet sous l'ancien pied la
cavalerie ordinaire, qui n'étoit composée que de la noblesse.'
_Hist. Univ._ vol. ix. pp. 202, 203; and see vol. x. pp. 504,
505, vol. xiii. p. 22; and an imperfect statement of the same
fact in _Boullier_, _Hist. des divers Corps de la Maison
Militaire des Rois de France_, Paris, 1818, p. 58, a superficial
work on an uninteresting subject.
[324] M. Tocqueville (_L'Ancien Régime_, p. 448) mentions, among other
regulations still in force late in the eighteenth century, that
'en Dauphiné, en Bretagne, en Normandie, il est prohibé à tout
roturier d'avoir des colombiers, fuies et volière; il n'y a que
les nobles qui puissent avoir des pigeons.'
Circumstances like these are valuable, as evidence of the state of
society to which they belong; and their importance will become
peculiarly obvious, when we compare them with the opposite condition of
England.
For in England, neither these nor any similar distinctions have ever
been known. The spirit of which our yeomanry, copyholders, and free
burgesses were the representatives, proved far too strong for those
protective and monopolizing principles of which the aristocracy are the
guardians in politics, and the clergy in religion. And it is to the
successful opposition made by these feelings of individual independence
that we owe our two greatest national acts--our Reformation in the
sixteenth, and our Rebellion in the seventeenth century. Before,
however, tracing the steps taken in these matters, there is one other
point of view to which I wish to call attention, as a further
illustration of the early and radical difference between France and
England.
In the eleventh century there arose the celebrated institution of
chivalry,[325] which was to manners what feudalism was to politics. This
connexion is clear, not only from the testimony of contemporaries, but
also from two general considerations. In the first place, chivalry was
so highly aristocratic, that no one could even receive knighthood unless
he were of noble birth;[326] and the preliminary education which was
held to be necessary was carried on either in schools appointed by the
nobles, or else in their own baronial castles.[327] In the second place,
it was essentially a protective, and not at all a reforming institution.
It was contrived with a view to remedy certain oppressions as they
successively arose; opposed in this respect to the reforming spirit,
which, being remedial rather than palliative, strikes at the root of an
evil by humbling the class from which the evil proceeds, passing over
individual cases in order to direct its attention to general causes. But
chivalry, so far from doing this, was in fact a fusion of the
aristocratic and the ecclesiastical forms of the protective spirit.[328]
For, by introducing among the nobles the principle of knighthood, which,
being personal, could never be bequeathed, it presented a point at which
the ecclesiastical doctrine of celibacy could coalesce with the
aristocratic doctrine of hereditary descent.[329] Out of this coalition
sprung results of great moment. It is to this that Europe owes those
orders, half aristocratic half religious,[330] the Knights Templars,
the Knights of St. James, the Knights of St. John, the Knights of St.
Michael: establishments which inflicted the greatest evils on society;
and whose members, combining analogous vices, enlivened the superstition
of monks with the debauchery of soldiers. As a natural consequence, an
immense number of noble knights were solemnly pledged to 'defend the
church;' an ominous expression, the meaning of which is too well known
to the readers of ecclesiastical history.[331] Thus it was that
chivalry, uniting the hostile principles of celibacy and noble birth,
became the incarnation of the spirit of the two classes to which those
principles belonged. Whatever benefit, therefore, this institution may
have conferred upon manners,[332] there can be no doubt that it actively
contributed to keep men in a state of pupilage, and stopped the march
of society by prolonging the term of its infancy.[333]
[325] 'Dès la fin du onzième siècle, à l'époque même où commencèrent les
croisades, on trouve la chevalerie établie.' _Koch_, _Tab. des
Révolutions_, vol. i. p. 143; see also _Sainte-Palaye_, _Mém. sur
la Chevalerie_, vol. i. pp. 42, 68. M. Guizot (_Civilis. en
France_, vol. iii. pp. 349-354) has attempted to trace it back to
an earlier period; but he appears to have failed, though of
course its germs may be easily found. According to some writers
it originated in northern Europe; according to others in Arabia!
_Mallet's Northern Antiquities_, p. 202; _Journal of Asiat. Soc._
vol. ii. p. 11.
[326] 'L'ordre de chevalerie n'étoit accordé qu'aux hommes d'un sang
noble.' _Sismondi_, _Hist. des Français_, vol. iv. p. 204.
Compare _Daniel_, _Hist. de la Milice_, vol. i. p. 97, and
_Mills' Hist. of Chivalry_, vol. i. p. 20.
[327] 'In some places there were schools appointed by the nobles of the
country, but most frequently their own castles served.' _Mills'
Hist. of Chivalry_, vol. i. p. 31; and see _Sainte-Palaye_, _Mém.
sur l'Anc. Chevalerie_, vol. i. pp. 30, 56, 57, on this
education.
[328] This combination of knighthood and religious rites is often
ascribed to the crusades; but there is good evidence that it took
place a little earlier, and must be referred to the latter half
of the eleventh century. Compare _Mills' Hist. of Chivalry_, vol.
i. pp. 10, 11; _Daniel_, _Hist. de la Milice_, vol. i. pp. 101,
102, 108; _Boulainvilliers_, _Ancien Gouv._ vol. i. p. 326.
Sainte-Palaye (_Mém. sur la Chevalerie_, vol. i. pp. 119-123),
who has collected some illustrations of the relation between
chivalry and the church, says, p. 119, 'enfin la chevalerie étoit
regardée comme une ordination, un sacerdoce.' The superior clergy
possessed the right of conferring knighthood, and William Rufus
was actually knighted by Archbishop Lanfranc: 'Archiepiscopus
Lanfrancus, eo quòd eum nutrierat, et militem fecerat.' _Will.
Malmes._ lib. iv., in _Scriptores post Bedam_, p. 67. Compare
_Fosbroke's British Monachism_, 1843, p. 101, on knighting by
abbots.
[329] The influence of this on the nobles is rather exaggerated by Mr.
Mills; who, on the other hand, has not noticed how the
unhereditary element was favourable to the ecclesiastical spirit.
_Mills' Hist. of Chivalry_, vol. i. pp. 15, 389, vol. ii. p. 169;
a work interesting as an assemblage of facts, but almost useless
as a philosophic estimate.
[330] 'In their origin all the military orders, and most of the
religious ones, were entirely aristocratic.' _Mills' Hist. of
Chivalry_, vol. i. p. 336.
[331] _Mills' Hist. of Chivalry_, vol. i. pp. 148, 338. About the year
1127, St. Bernard wrote a discourse in favour of the Knights
Templars, in which 'he extols this order as a combination of
monasticism and knighthood.... He describes the design of it as
being to give the military order and knighthood a serious
Christian direction, and to convert war into something that God
might approve.' _Neander's Hist. of the Church_, vol. vii. p.
358. To this may be added, that, early in the thirteenth century,
a chivalric association was formed, and afterwards merged in the
Dominican order, called the Militia of Christ: 'un nouvel ordre
de chevalerie destiné à poursuivre les hérétiques, sur le modèle
de celui des Templiers, et sous le nom de Milice de Christ.'
_Llorente_, _Hist. de l'Inquisition_, vol. i. pp. 52, 133, 203.
[332] Several writers ascribe to chivalry the merit of softening
manners, and of increasing the influence of women.
_Sainte-Palaye_, _Mém. sur la Chevalerie_, vol. i. pp. 220-223,
282, 284, vol. iii. pp. vi. vii. 159-161; _Helvétius de
l'Esprit_, vol. ii. pp. 50, 51; _Schlegel's Lectures_, vol. i. p.
209. That there was such a tendency is, I think, indisputable;
but it has been greatly exaggerated; and an author of
considerable reading on these subjects says, 'The rigid treatment
shown to prisoners of war in ancient times strongly marks the
ferocity and uncultivated manners of our ancestors, and that even
to ladies of high rank; notwithstanding the homage said to have
been paid to the fair sex in those days of chivalry.' _Grose's
Military Antiquities_, vol. ii. p. 114. Compare _Manning on the
Law of Nations_, 1839, pp. 145, 146.
[333] Mr. Hallam (_Middle Ages_, vol. ii. p. 464) says, 'A third
reproach may be made to the character of knighthood, that it
widened the separation between the different classes of society,
and confirmed that aristocratical spirit of high birth, by which
the large mass of mankind were kept in unjust degradation.'
On this account, it is evident that, whether we look at the immediate or
at the remote tendency of chivalry, its strength and duration become a
measure of the predominance of the protective spirit. If, with this
view, we compare France and England, we shall find fresh proof of the
early divergence of those countries. Tournaments, the first open
expression of chivalry, are of French origin.[334] The greatest and,
indeed, the only two great describers of chivalry are Joinville and
Froissart, both of whom were Frenchmen. Bayard, that famous chevalier,
who is always considered as the last representative of chivalry, was a
Frenchman, and was killed when fighting for Francis I. Nor was it until
nearly forty years after his death that tournaments were finally
abolished in France, the last one having been held in 1560.[335]
[334] _Sismondi_, _Hist. des Français_, vol. iv. pp. 370, 371, 377;
_Turner's Hist. of England_, vol. iv. p. 478; _Foncemagne_, _De
l'Origine des Armoiries_, in _Mém. de l'Académie des
Inscriptions_, vol. xx. p. 580. Koch also says (_Tableau des
Révolutions_, vol. i. p. 139), 'c'est de la France que l'usage
des tournois se répandit chez les autres nations de l'Europe.'
They were first introduced into England in the reign of Stephen.
_Lingard's England_, vol. ii. p. 27.
[335] Mr. Hallam (_Middle Ages_, vol. ii. p. 470) says they were
'entirely discontinued in France' in consequence of the death of
Henry II.; but according to _Mills' Hist. of Chivalry_, vol. ii.
p. 226, they lasted the next year; when another fatal accident
occurred, and 'tournaments ceased for ever.' Compare
_Sainte-Palaye sur la Chevalerie_, vol. ii. pp. 39, 40.
But in England, the protective spirit being much less active than in
France, we should expect to find that chivalry, as its offspring, had
less influence. And such was really the case. The honours that were paid
to knights, and the social distinctions by which they were separated
from the other classes, were never so great in our country as in
France.[336] As men became more free, the little respect they had for
such matters still further diminished. In the thirteenth century, and
indeed in the very reign in which burgesses were first returned to
parliament, the leading symbol of chivalry fell into such disrepute,
that a law was passed obliging certain persons to accept that rank of
knighthood which in other nations was one of the highest objects of
ambition.[337] In the fourteenth century, this was followed by another
blow, which deprived knighthood of its exclusively military character;
the custom having grown up in the reign of Edward III. of conferring it
on the judges in the courts of law, thus turning a warlike title into a
civil honour.[338] Finally, before the end of the fifteenth century, the
spirit of chivalry, in France still at its height, was in our country
extinct, and this mischievous institution had become a subject for
ridicule even among the people themselves.[339] To these circumstances
we may add two others, which seem worthy of observation. The first is,
that the French, notwithstanding their many admirable qualities, have
always been more remarkable for personal vanity than the English;[340] a
peculiarity partly referable to those chivalric traditions which even
their occasional republics have been unable to destroy, and which makes
them attach undue importance to external distinctions, by which I mean,
not only dress and manners, but also medals, ribbons, stars, crosses,
and the like, which we, a prouder people, have never held in such high
estimation. The other circumstance is, that duelling has from the
beginning been more popular in France than in England; and as this is a
custom which we owe to chivalry, the difference in this respect between
the two countries supplies another link in that long chain of evidence
by which we must estimate their national tendencies.[341]
[336] Mr. Hallam (_Middle Ages_, vol. ii. p. 467) observes, that the
knight, as compared with other classes, 'was addressed by titles
of more respect. _There was not, however, so much distinction in
England as in France._' The great honour paid to knights in
France is noticed by Daniel (_Milice Française_, vol. i. pp. 128,
129) and Herder (Ideen zur Geschichte, vol. iv. pp. 226, 267)
says, that in France chivalry flourished more than in any other
country. The same remark is made by Sismondi (_Hist. des
Français_, vol. iv. p. 198).
[337] The _Statutum de Militibus_, in 1307, was perhaps the first
recognition of this. Compare _Blackstone's Comment._ vol. ii. p.
69; _Barrington on the Statutes_, pp. 192, 193. But we have
positive evidence that compulsory knighthood existed in the reign
of Henry III.; or at least that those who refused it were obliged
to pay a fine. See _Hallam's Const. Hist._ vol. i. p. 421, and
_Lyttleton's Hist. of Henry II._ vol. ii. pp. 238, 239, 2nd edit.
4to. 1767. Lord Lyttleton, evidently puzzled, says, 'Indeed it
seems a deviation from the original principle of this
institution. For one cannot but think it a very great
inconsistency, that a dignity, which was deemed an accession of
honour to kings themselves, should be forced upon any.'
[338] In _Mills' Hist. of Chivalry_, vol. ii. p. 154, it is said, that
'the judges of the courts of law' were first knighted in the
reign of Edward III.
[339] Mr. Mills (_Hist. of Chivalry_, vol. ii. pp. 99, 100) has printed
a curious extract from a lamentation over the destruction of
chivalry, written in the reign of Edward IV.; but he has
overlooked a still more singular instance. This is a popular
ballad, written in the middle of the fifteenth century, and
called the Turnament of Tottenham, in which the follies of
chivalry are admirably ridiculed. See _Warton's Hist. of English
Poetry_, edit. 1840, vol. iii. pp. 98-101; and _Percy's Reliques
of Ancient Poetry_, edit. 1845, pp. 92-95. According to Turner
(_Hist. of England_, vol. vi. p. 363), 'the ancient books of
chivalry were laid aside' about the reign of Henry VI.
[340] This is not a mere popular opinion, but rests upon a large amount
of evidence, supplied by competent and impartial observers.
Addison, who was a lenient as well as an able judge, and who had
lived much among the French, calls them 'the vainest nation in
the world.' _Letter to Bishop Hough_, in _Aikin's Life of
Addison_, vol. i. p. 90. Napoleon says, 'vanity is the ruling
principle of the French.' _Alison's Hist. of Europe_, vol. vi. p.
25. Dumont (_Souvenirs sur Mirabeau_, p. 111) declares, that 'le
trait le plus dominant dans le caractère français, c'est l'amour
propre;' and Ségur (_Souvenirs_, vol. i. pp. 73, 74), 'car en
France l'amour propre, ou, si on le veut, la vanité, est de
toutes les passions la plus irritable.' It is moreover stated,
that phrenological observations prove that the French are vainer
than the English. _Combe's Elements of Phrenology_, 6th edit.
Edinb. 1845, p. 90; and a partial recognition of the same fact in
_Broussais_, _Cours de Phrénologie_, p. 297. For other instances
of writers who have noticed the vanity of the French, see
_Tocqueville_, _l'Ancien Régime_, p. 148; _Barante_, _Lit. Franç.
au XVIII^e. Siècle_, p. 80; _Mém. de Brissot_, vol. i. p. 272;
_Mézéray_, _Hist. de France_, vol. ii. p. 933; _Lemontey_,
_Etablissement Monarchique_, p. 418; _Voltaire_, _Lettres
inédites_, vol. ii. p. 282; _Tocqueville_, _Règne de Louis XV_,
vol. ii. p. 358; _De Staël sur la Révolution_, vol. i. p. 260,
vol. ii. p. 258.
[341] The relation between chivalry and duelling has been noticed by
several writers; and in France, where the chivalric spirit was
not completely destroyed until the Revolution, we find occasional
traces of this connexion even in the reign of Louis XVI. See, for
instance, in _Mém. de Lafayette_, vol. i. p. 86, a curious letter
in regard to chivalry and duelling in 1778. In England there is,
I believe, no evidence of even a single private duel being fought
earlier than the sixteenth century, and there were not many till
the latter half of Elizabeth's reign; but in France the custom
arose early in the fifteenth century, and in the sixteenth it
became usual for the seconds to fight as well as the principals.
Compare _Montlosier_, _Monarc. Franç._ vol. ii. p. 436, with
_Monteil_, _Hist. des divers Etats_, vol. vi. p. 48. From that
time the love of the French for duelling became quite a passion
until the end of the eighteenth century, when the Revolution, or
rather the circumstances which led to the Revolution, caused its
comparative cessation. Some idea may be formed of the enormous
extent of this practice formerly in France, by comparing the
following passages, which I have the more pleasure in bringing
together, as no one has written even a tolerable history of
duelling, notwithstanding the great part it once played in
European society. _De Thou_, _Hist. Univ._ vol. ix. pp. 592, 593,
vol. xv. p. 57; _Daniel_, _Milice Française_, vol. ii. p. 582;
_Sully_, _[OE]conomies_, vol. i. p. 301, vol. iii. p. 406, vol.
vi. p. 122, vol. viii. p. 41, vol. ix. p. 408; _Carew's State of
France under Henry IV._, in _Birch's Historical Negotiations_, p.
467; _Ben Jonson's Works_, edit. Gifford, vol. vi. p. 69;
_Dulaure_, _Hist. de Paris_ (1825 3rd edit.), vol. iv. p. 567,
vol. v. pp. 300, 301; _Le Clerc_, _Bibliothèque Univ._ vol. xx.
p. 242; _Lettres de Patin_, vol. iii. p. 536; _Capefigue_, _Hist.
de la Réforme_, vol. viii. p. 98; _Capefigue's Richelieu_, vol.
i. p. 63; _Des Réaux_, _Historiettes_, vol. x. p. 13; _Mém. de
Genlis_, vol. ii. p. 191, vol. vii. p. 215, vol. ix. p. 351;
_Mem. of the Baroness d'Oberkirch_, vol. i. p. 71, edit. Lond.
1852; _Lettres inédites d'Aguesseau_, vol. i. p. 211; _Lettres de
Dudeffand à Walpole_, vol. iii. p. 249, vol. iv. pp. 27, 28, 152;
_Boullier_, _Maison Militaire des Rois de France_, pp. 87, 88;
_Biog. Univ._ vol. v. pp. 402, 403, vol. xxiii. p. 411, vol.
xliv. pp. 127, 401, vol. xlviii. p. 522, vol. xlix. p. 130.
The old associations, of which these facts are but the external
expression, now continued to act with increasing vigour. In France, the
protective spirit, carried into religion, was strong enough to resist
the Reformation, and preserve to the clergy the forms, at least, of
their ancient supremacy. In England, the pride of men, and their habits
of self-reliance, enabled them to mature into a system what is called
the right of private judgment, by which some of the most cherished
traditions were eradicated; and this, as we have already seen, being
quickly succeeded, first by scepticism, and then by toleration, prepared
the way for that subordination of the church to the state, for which we
are pre-eminent, and without a rival, among the nations of Europe. The
very same tendency, acting in politics, displayed analogous results. Our
ancestors found no difficulty in humbling the nobles, and reducing them
to comparative insignificance. The wars of the Roses, by breaking up the
leading families into two hostile factions, aided this movement;[342]
and, after the reign of Edward IV., there is no instance of any
Englishman, even of the highest rank, venturing to carry on those
private wars, by which, in other countries, the great lords still
disturbed the peace of society.[343] When the civil contests subsided,
the same spirit displayed itself in the policy of Henry VII. and Henry
VIII. For, those princes, despots as they were, mainly oppressed the
highest classes; and even Henry VIII., notwithstanding his barbarous
cruelties, was loved by the people, to whom his reign was, on the whole,
decidedly beneficial. Then there came the Reformation; which, being an
uprising of the human mind, was essentially a rebellious movement, and
thus increasing the insubordination of men, sowed, in the sixteenth
century, the seeds of those great political revolutions which, in the
seventeenth century, broke out in nearly every part of Europe. The
connexion between these two revolutionary epochs is a subject full of
interest; but, for the purpose of the present chapter, it will be
sufficient to notice such events, during the latter half of the
sixteenth century, as explain the sympathy between the ecclesiastical
and aristocratic classes, and prove how the same circumstances that were
fatal to the one, also prepared the way for the downfall of the other.
[342] On the effect of the wars of the Roses upon the nobles, compare
_Hallam's Const. Hist._ vol. i. p. 10; _Lingard's Hist. of
England_, vol. iii. p. 340; _Eccleston's English Antiq._ pp. 224,
320: and on their immense pecuniary, or rather territorial,
losses, _Sinclair's Hist. of the Revenue_, vol. i. p. 155.
[343] 'The last instance of a pitched battle between two powerful
noblemen in England occurs in the reign of Edward IV.' _Allen on
the Prerogative_, p. 123.
When Elizabeth ascended the throne of England, a large majority of the
nobility were opposed to the Protestant religion. This we know from the
most decisive evidence; and, even if we had no such evidence, a general
acquaintance with human nature would induce us to suspect that such was
the case. For, the aristocracy, by the very conditions of their
existence, must, as a body, always be averse to innovation. And this,
not only because by a change they have much to lose and little to gain,
but because some of their most pleasurable emotions are connected with
the past rather than with the present. In the collision of actual life,
their vanity is sometimes offended by the assumptions of inferior men;
it is frequently wounded by the successful competition of able men.
These are mortifications to which, in the progress of society, their
liability is constantly increasing. But the moment they turn to the
past, they see in those good old times which are now gone by, many
sources of consolation. There they find a period in which their glory is
without a rival. When they look at their pedigrees, their quarterings,
their escutcheons; when they think of the purity of their blood, and the
antiquity of their ancestors--they experience a comfort which ought
amply to atone for any present inconvenience. The tendency of this is
very obvious, and has shown itself in the history of every aristocracy
the world has yet seen. Men who have worked themselves to so extravagant
a pitch as to believe that it is an honour to have had one ancestor who
came over with the Normans, and another ancestor who was present at the
first invasion of Ireland--men who have reached this ecstacy of the
fancy are not disposed to stop there, but, by a process with which most
minds are familiar, they generalize their view; and, even on matters not
immediately connected with their fame, they acquire a habit of
associating grandeur with antiquity, and of measuring value by age;
thus transferring to the past an admiration which otherwise they might
reserve for the present.
The connexion between these feelings and those which animate the clergy
is very evident. What the nobles are to politics, that are the priests
to religion. Both classes, constantly appealing to the voice of
antiquity, rely much on tradition, and make great account of upholding
established customs. Both take for granted that what is old is better
than what is new; and that in former times there were means of
discovering truths respecting government and theology which we, in these
degenerate ages, no longer possess. And it may be added, that the
similarity of their functions follows from the similarity of their
principles. Both are eminently protective, stationary, or, as they are
sometimes called, conservative. It is believed that the aristocracy
guard the state against revolution, and that the clergy keep the church
from error. The first are the enemies of reformers; the others are the
scourge of heretics.
It does not enter into the province of this Introduction to examine how
far these principles are reasonable, or to inquire into the propriety of
notions which suppose that, on certain subjects of immense importance,
men are to remain stationary, while on all other subjects they are
constantly advancing. But what I now rather wish to point out, is the
manner in which, in the reign of Elizabeth, the two great conservative
and protective classes were weakened by that vast movement, the
Reformation, which, though completed in the sixteenth century, had been
prepared by a long chain of intellectual antecedents.
Whatever the prejudices of some may suggest, it will be admitted, by all
unbiassed judges, that the Protestant Reformation was neither more nor
less than an open rebellion. Indeed, the mere mention of private
judgment, on which it was avowedly based, is enough to substantiate this
fact. To establish the right of private judgment, was to appeal from the
church to individuals; it was to increase the play of each man's
intellect; it was to test the opinions of the priesthood by the
opinions of laymen; it was, in fact, a rising of the scholars against
their teachers, of the ruled against their rulers. And although the
reformed clergy, as soon as they had organised themselves into a
hierarchy, did undoubtedly abandon the great principle with which they
started, and attempt to impose articles and canons of their own
contrivance, still, this ought not to blind us to the merits of the
Reformation itself. The tyranny of the Church of England, during the
reign of Elizabeth, and still more during the reigns of her two
successors, was but the natural consequence of that corruption which
power always begets in those who wield it, and does not lessen the
importance of the movement by which the power was originally obtained.
For men could not forget that, tried by the old theological theory, the
church of England was a schismatic establishment, and could only defend
itself from the charge of heresy by appealing to that private judgment,
to the exercise of which it owed its existence, but of the rights of
which its own proceedings were a constant infraction. It was evident
that if, in religious matters, private judgment were supreme, it became
a high spiritual crime to issue any articles, or to take any measure, by
which that judgment could be tied up; while, on the other hand, if the
right of private judgment were not supreme, the church of England was
guilty of apostacy, inasmuch as its founders did, by virtue of the
interpretation which their own private judgment made of the Bible,
abandon tenets which they had hitherto held, stigmatize those tenets as
idolatrous, and openly renounce their allegiance to what had for
centuries been venerated as the catholic and apostolic church.
This was a simple alternative; which might, indeed, be kept out of
sight, but could not be refined away, and most assuredly has never been
forgotten. The memory of the great truth it conveys was preserved by the
writings and teachings of the Puritans, and by those habits of thought
natural to an inquisitive age. And when the fulness of time had come, it
did not fail to bear its fruit. It continued slowly to fructify; and
before the middle of the seventeenth century, its seed had quickened
into a life, the energy of which nothing could withstand. That same
right of private judgment which the early Reformers had loudly
proclaimed, was now pushed to an extent fatal to those who opposed it.
This it was which, carried into politics, overturned the government,
and, carried into religion, upset the church.[344] For, rebellion and
heresy are but different forms of the same disregard of tradition, the
same bold and independent spirit. Both are of the nature of a protest
made by modern ideas against old associations. They are as a struggle
between the feelings of the present and the memory of the past. Without
the exercise of private judgment, such a contest could never take place;
the mere conception of it could not enter the minds of men, nor would
they even dream of controlling, by their individual energy, those abuses
to which all great societies are liable. It is, therefore, in the
highest degree natural that the exercise of this judgment should be
opposed by those two powerful classes who, from their position, their
interests, and the habits of their mind, are more prone than any other
to cherish antiquity, cleave to superannuated customs, and uphold
institutions which, to use their favourite language, have been
consecrated by the wisdom of their fathers.
[344] Clarendon (_Hist. of the Rebellion_, p. 80), in a very angry
spirit, but with perfect truth, notices (under the year 1640) the
connexion between 'a proud and venomous dislike against the
discipline of the church of England, and so by degrees (as the
progress is very natural) an equal irreverence to the government
of the state too.' The Spanish government, perhaps more than any
other in Europe, has understood this relation; and even so late
as 1789, an edict of Charles IV. declared, 'qu'il y a crime
d'hérésie dans tout ce qui tend, ou contribue, à propager les
idées révolutionnaires.' _Llorente_, _Hist. de l'Inquisition_,
vol. ii. p. 130.
From this point of view we are able to see with great clearness the
intimate connexion which, at the accession of Elizabeth, existed between
the English nobles and the Catholic clergy. Notwithstanding many
exceptions, an immense majority of both classes opposed the Reformation,
because it was based on that right of private judgment of which they,
as the protectors of old opinions, were the natural antagonists. All
this can excite no surprise; it was in the order of things, and strictly
accordant with the spirit of those two great sections of society.
Fortunately, however, for our country, the throne was now occupied by a
sovereign who was equal to the emergency, and who, instead of yielding
to the two classes, availed herself of the temper of the age to humble
them. The manner in which this was effected by Elizabeth, in respect,
first to the Catholic clergy, and afterwards to the Protestant
clergy,[345] forms one of the most interesting parts of our history; and
in an account of the reign of the great queen, I hope to examine it at
considerable length. At present, it will be sufficient to glance at her
policy towards the nobles--that other class with which the priesthood,
by their interests, opinions, and associations, have always much in
common.
[345] The general character of her policy towards the Protestant English
bishops is summed up very fairly by Collier; though he, as a
professional writer, is naturally displeased with her disregard
for the heads of the church. _Collier's Eccles. Hist. of Great
Britain_, vol. vii. pp. 257, 258, edit. Barham, 1840.
Elizabeth, at her accession to the throne, finding that the ancient
families adhered to the ancient religion, naturally called to her
councils advisers who were more likely to uphold the novelties on which
the age was bent. She selected men who, being little burdened by past
associations, were more inclined to favour present interests. The two
Bacons, the two Cecils, Knollys, Sadler, Smith, Throgmorton, Walsingham,
were the most eminent statesmen and diplomatists in her reign; but all
of them were commoners; only one did she raise to the peerage; and they
were certainly nowise remarkable, either for the rank of their immediate
connexions, or for the celebrity of their remote ancestors. They,
however, were recommended to Elizabeth by their great abilities, and by
their determination to uphold a religion which the ancient aristocracy
naturally opposed. And it is observable that, among the accusations
which the Catholics brought against the queen, they taunted her, not
only with forsaking the old religion, but also with neglecting the old
nobility.[346]
[346] One of the charges which, in 1588, Sixtus V. publicly brought
against Elizabeth, was, that 'she hath rejected and excluded the
ancient nobility, and promoted to honour obscure people.'
_Butler's Mem. of the Catholics_, vol. ii. p. 4. Persons also
reproaches her with her low-born ministers, and says that she was
influenced 'by five persons in particular--all of them sprung
from the earth--Bacon, Cecil, Dudley, Hatton, and Walsingham.'
_Butler_, vol. ii. p. 31. Cardinal Allen taunted her with
'disgracing the ancient nobility, erecting base and unworthy
persons to all the civil and ecclesiastical dignities.' _Dodd's
Church History_, edit. Tierney, 1840, vol. iii. appendix no. xii.
p. xlvi. The same influential writer, in his _Admonition_, said
that she had injured England, 'by great contempt and abasing of
the ancient nobility, repelling them from due government,
offices, and places of honour.' _Allen's Admonition to the
Nobility and People of England and Ireland_, 1588 (reprinted
London, 1842), p. xv. Compare the account of the Bull of 1588, in
_De Thou_, _Hist. Univ._ vol. x. p. 175: 'On accusoit Elisabeth
d'avoir au préjudice de la noblesse angloise élevé aux dignités,
tant civiles qu'ecclésiastiques, des hommes nouveaux, sans
naissance, et indignes de les posséder.'
Nor does it require much acquaintance with the history of the time to
see the justice of this charge. Whatever explanation we may choose to
give of the fact, it cannot be denied that, during the reign of
Elizabeth, there was an open and constant opposition between the nobles
and the executive government. The rebellion of 1569 was essentially an
aristocratic movement; it was a rising of the great families of the
north against what they considered the upstart and plebeian
administration of the queen.[347] The bitterest enemy of Elizabeth was
certainly Mary of Scotland; and the interests of Mary were publicly
defended by the Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Northumberland, the Earl of
Westmoreland, and the Earl of Arundel; while there is reason to believe
that her cause was secretly favoured by the Marquis of Northampton, the
Earl of Pembroke, the Earl of Derby, the Earl of Cumberland, the Earl of
Shrewsbury, and the Earl of Sussex.[348]
[347] To the philosophic historian this rebellion, though not
sufficiently appreciated by ordinary writers, is a very important
study, because it is the last attempt ever made by the great
English families to establish their authority by force of arms.
Mr. Wright says, that probably all those who took a leading part
in it 'were allied by blood or intermarriage with the two
families of the Percies and Neviles.' _Wright's Elizabeth_, 1838,
vol. i. p. xxxiv.; a valuable work. See also, in _Parl. Hist._
vol. i. p. 730, a list of some of those who, in 1571, were
attainted on account of this rebellion, and who are said to be
'all of the best families in the north of England.'
But the most complete evidence we have respecting this struggle,
consists of the collection of original documents published in
1840 by Sir C. Sharpe, under the title of _Memorials of the
Rebellion of 1569_. They show very clearly the real nature of the
outbreak. On 17th November 1569, Sir George Bowes writes, that
the complaint of the insurgents was that 'there was certaine
counsellors cropen' (_i.e._ crept) 'in aboute the prince, which
had excluded the nobility from the prince,' &c., _Memorials_, p.
42; and the editor's note says that this is one of the charges
made in all the proclamations by the earls. Perhaps the most
curious proof of how notorious the policy of Elizabeth had
become, is contained in a friendly letter from Sussex to Cecil,
dated 5th January 1569 (_Memorials_, p. 137), one paragraph of
which begins, 'Of late years few young noblemen have been
employed in service.'
[348] _Hallam_, i. p. 130; _Lingard_, v. pp. 97, 102; _Turner_, xii.
pp. 245, 247.
The existence of this antagonism of interests could not escape the
sagacity of the English government. Cecil, who was the most powerful of
the ministers of Elizabeth, and who was at the head of affairs for forty
years, made it part of his business to study the genealogies and
material resources of the great families; and this he did, not out of
idle curiosity, but in order to increase his control over them, or, as a
great historian says, to let them know 'that his eye was upon
them.'[349] The queen herself, though too fond of power, was by no means
of a cruel disposition; but she seemed to delight in humbling the
nobles. On them her hand fell heavily; and there is hardly to be found a
single instance of her pardoning their offences, while she punished
several of them for acts which would now be considered no offences at
all. She was always unwilling to admit them to authority; and it is
unquestionably true that, taking them as a class, they were, during her
long and prosperous reign, treated with unusual disrespect. Indeed, so
clearly marked was her policy, that when the ducal order became extinct,
she refused to renew it; and a whole generation passed away to whom the
name of duke was a mere matter of history, a point to be mooted by
antiquaries, but with which the business of practical life had no
concern.[350] Whatever may be her other faults, she was on this subject
always consistent. Although she evinced the greatest anxiety to surround
the throne with men of ability, she cared little for those conventional
distinctions by which the minds of ordinary sovereigns are greatly
moved. She made no account of dignity of rank; she did not even care for
purity of blood. She valued men neither for the splendour of their
ancestry, nor for the length of their pedigrees, nor for the grandeur of
their titles. Such questions she left for her degenerate successors, to
the size of whose understandings they were admirably fitted. Our great
queen regulated her conduct by another standard. Her large and powerful
intellect, cultivated to its highest point by reflection and study,
taught her the true measure of affairs, and enabled her to see, that to
make a government flourish, its councillors must be men of ability and
of virtue; but that if these two conditions are fulfilled, the nobles
may be left to repose in the enjoyment of their leisure, unoppressed by
those cares of the state for which, with a few brilliant exceptions,
they are naturally disqualified by the number of their prejudices and by
the frivolity of their pursuits.
[349] _Hallam's Const. Hist._ vol. i. p. 241; an interesting passage.
Turner (_Hist. of England_, vol. xii. p. 237) says, that Cecil
'knew the tendency of the great lords to combine against the
crown, that they might reinstate the peerage in the power from
which the house of Tudor had depressed it.'
[350] In 1572 the order of dukes became extinct; and was not revived
till fifty years afterwards, when James I. made the miserable
Villiers, duke of Buckingham. _Blackstone's Commentaries_, vol.
i. p. 397. This evidently attracted attention; for Ben Jonson, in
one of his comedies in 1616, mentions 'the received heresy that
England bears no dukes.' _Jonson's Works_, edit. Gifford, 1816,
vol. v. p. 47, where Gifford, not being aware of the extinction
in 1572, has made an unsatisfactory note.
After the death of Elizabeth, an attempt was made, first by James, and
then by Charles, to revive the power of the two great protective
classes, the nobles and the clergy. But so admirably had the policy of
Elizabeth been supported by the general temper of the age, that it was
found impossible for the Stuarts to execute their mischievous plans. The
exercise of private judgment, both in religion and in politics, had
become so habitual, that these princes were unable to subjugate it to
their will. And as Charles I., with inconceivable blindness, and with an
obstinacy even greater than that of his father, persisted in adopting in
their worst forms the superannuated theories of protection, and
attempted to enforce a scheme of government which men from their
increasing independence were determined to reject, there inevitably
arose that memorable collision which is well termed The Great Rebellion
of England.[351] The analogy between this and the Protestant
Reformation, I have already noticed; but what we have now to consider,
and what, in the next chapter, I will endeavour to trace, is the nature
of the difference between our Rebellion, and those contemporary wars of
the Fronde, to which it was in some respects very similar.
[351] Clarendon (_Hist. of the Rebellion_, p. 216) truly calls it 'the
most prodigious and the boldest rebellion, that any age or
country ever brought forth.' See also some striking remarks in
_Warwick's Memoirs_, p. 207.