[Sidenote: Marco Polo]
All through the Middle Ages it had been to the cities of the
Mediterranean, first of all to Amalfi and Pisa, then to Marseilles,
Barcelona, Genoa, and Venice, that Europe had turned as her obvious
medium of communication with the East and all its fabulous wonders.
In the thirteenth century a Venetian merchant, Marco Polo, setting
forth with his father and uncle, had visited the kingdom of Cathay, or
China, and brought back twenty years later not only marvellous tales of
the court of Khubla Khan in Pekin, but also precious stones, rubies,
sapphires, diamonds, and emeralds in such abundance that he was soon
nicknamed by his fellow citizens ‘Marco of the Millions’.
Into the delighted ears of the guests he invited to a banquet on
his return he poured descriptions of a land where ‘merchants are
so numerous and so rich that their wealth can neither be told nor
believed. They and their ladies do nothing with their own hands, but
live as delicately as if they were kings.’ What seems to have struck
his mediaeval mind with most astonishment were the enormous public
baths in the ‘City of Heaven’ in southern China, of which there were
four thousand, ‘the largest and most beautiful baths in the world.’
The banquets also given by the great Khan excelled any European feasts.
They were attended by many thousands of guests, and their host, raised
on a dais, had as his servants the chief nobles, who would wind rich
towels round their mouths that they might not breathe upon the royal
plates. For presents the Khan was accustomed to receive at a time
some five thousand camels, or an equal number of elephants, draped in
silken cloths worked with silver and gold. His government surpassed
in its organization anything Europe had imagined since the fall of
the Roman Empire, such, for instance, as the postal system, by means
of messengers on foot and horse, that linked up Pekin with lands a
hundred days distant, or the beneficent regard of a ruler who in times
of bad harvests not only remitted taxation but dispatched grain to the
principal districts that had suffered.
Coal was used in China freely, ‘a kind of black stone cut from the
mountains in veins,’ as Marco Polo describes it. ‘It maintains the
fire’, he added, ‘better than wood, and throughout the whole of Cathay
this fuel is used.’
Besides dilating on the wealth and prosperity of China, the Venetian
had also much to say of Zipangu, or Japan, of Tibet and Bengal, of
Ceylon, ‘the finest island in the world,’ and of Java, supposed then to
be ‘above three thousand miles wide’.
Other travellers were to confirm many of his statements, but none told
their tale so simply and realistically as Polo, while not a few, like
the English Sir John Mandeville in the fourteenth century, supplied
fiction in large doses where it seemed to them that truth might bore
their readers. The eagerness with which either fact or fiction was
swallowed bears witness, at any rate, first to the extraordinary
fascination excited in mediaeval minds by such names as ‘Cathay’ or
‘Zipangu’; and next to the general Western belief in the inexhaustible
riches of the East and their determination to secure at least a portion.
When the Seljuk Turks, with their fierce animosity towards Christendom,
had settled like a curtain between East and West, the dangers and
expense of trading and commerce with Arabia and Asia Minor of course
increased. Venice and Genoa still brought back shiploads of silks,
spices, and perfumes for Western markets, but the price of these goods
was increased by the tolls paid to Turkish sultans and emirs for leave
to transfer merchandise from camels to trading-sloops. Then came the
fall of Constantinople, when Venice, by a treaty with ‘the Conqueror’
in the following year, appeared to secure wonderful trading privileges.
Mohammed, however, made such promises only to break them when
convenient, and, so soon as he could afford to do so, because he was
securely established in Europe, the tolls he demanded became heavier,
not lighter, the restrictions he placed upon trade more and more
galling to Christian merchants, until the usual purchasers of Venetian
goods grew exasperated at prices that doubled and trebled continually.
[Sidenote: Voyage and Discovery]
There were but two methods of avoiding this ever-increasing policy of
exploitation apart from doing without such luxuries: either a complete
conquest of the Turks, that would compel them to open up afresh the
old caravan routes to the East; or else the discovery of a new route
that would avoid their dominions altogether. Largely through the blind
selfishness of Mediterranean cities, and especially of Venice, we have
seen that the golden opportunity of aiding the Byzantine Empire had
been lost for ever. Thus the first method failed. It remains to deal
with the second, the voyages of discovery with which the Middle Ages
fittingly close.
[Sidenote: Henry ‘the Navigator’]
Towards the end of the fourteenth century there was born in Portugal
a prince, Henry, third son of King John I, and grandson by an English
mother of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. While he was still a boy
this prince earned fame for his share in the capture of Ceuta, a
Moorish town exactly opposite Gibraltar on the North African coast.
To the ordinary Portuguese mind this conquest raised hopes of a
gradual absorption of the southern Mediterranean seaboard, possibly of
competition in the Levant with Genoa and Venice; but Prince Henry saw
farther than ordinary minds. The problem that he set himself and any
one, Arab or European, who seemed likely to supply a solution was--What
would happen if, instead of entering the Mediterranean, Portuguese
ships were to sail due south? How big was this unknown stretch of land
called Africa, in the maps of which geographers hid their ignorance
by placing labels, such as ‘Here are hippografs! Here are two-headed
monsters!’? Would it not be possible to reach the far-famed wonders of
Cathay by sailing first south and then east round Africa, thus avoiding
trade routes through Syria and southern Russia?
It was fortunate that Prince Henry was a mathematician and geographer
himself, for many people told him in answer to his inquiries that
Africa ended at Cape Nam, not so many miles south of Tangier, and
others that the white man who dared to sail beyond a certain point
would be turned black by the heat of the sun, while the waters boiled
about his vessel and the winds blew sheets of flame across the horizon.
Prince Henry refused to believe such tales. He could not sail himself,
because he was so often occupied with wars in Africa against the Moors;
but year after year he fitted out ships at his own expense, and chose
the most daring mariners whom he could find, bribing them with promises
of reward and fame to navigate the unknown African coast. He himself
built a naval arsenal at Sagres on a southern promontory of Portugal,
and here, when not busy with affairs of state, he would study the
heavens, make charts, and watch anxiously for the returning sails of
his brave adventurers.
During Prince Henry’s lifetime Portuguese or Italians in his pay
discovered not only Madeira, or ‘the island of wood’, as they
christened it from its many forests, but the Canaries, Cape Verde
Islands, and the African coast as far south as Gambia and Sierra Leone.
Soon there was no longer any need to bribe mariners into taking risks,
for those who first led the way on these adventurous voyages brought
back with them negroes and gold dust as evidence that they had been
to lands where men could live, and where there were possibilities of
untold wealth. Thus the work of exploration continued joyfully.
It was in 1471, some years after the death of Prince Henry, that
Portuguese navigators crossed the Equator without being broiled black
by the sun or raising sheets of flame, as the superstitious had
predicted. The next important step on this new road to Asia was the
voyage of Bartholomew Diaz, who, sailing ever southwards, swept in an
icy wind without knowing it round the Cape, past Table Mountain, and
then, turning eastwards, landed at last on the little island of Santa
Cruz in Algoa Bay, where he planted a cross. He would have explored the
mainland also, but Kaffirs armed with heavy stones collected and drove
back the landing-party.
Diaz, emboldened by his success, wished to sail farther, but his crew
were weary of adventure, and with tears of regret in his eyes he was
forced to yield to their threats of mutiny and turn homewards. At
Lisbon, describing his voyage, he said that on account of its dangers
he had called the southernmost point of Africa the ‘Cape of Storms’,
but the King of Portugal, hearing that this was indeed the limit of
the continent, and that in all probability the way to Asia lay beyond,
would not consent to such an ill-omened name. ‘It shall be the Cape of
Good Hope,’ he declared, and so it has remained.
[Sidenote: Vasco da Gama]
In 1498 the work of exploration begun by Diaz was completed by another
famous navigator, Vasco da Gama. National hopes of wealth and glory
were centred in his task, and when he and his company marched forth
to their ships a large crowd went with them to the shore, carrying
candles, and singing a solemn litany. Then the sails of his four
vessels dipped below the horizon and were not seen for two years and
eight months, but when at last men and women had begun to despair at
the great silence, their hero reappeared amongst them, bringing news
more wonderful and glorious than anything that Portugal had dared to
hope.
There is little space to tell in this chapter the adventures that Vasco
da Gama related to the King and his court. He and his crews, it seemed,
had sailed for weeks amid ‘a lonely dreary waste of seas and boundless
sky’: they had skirmished with Hottentots and ‘doubled the Cape’,
caught in such a whirl of breakers and stormy winds that the walls of
the wooden ships had oozed water, and despair and sickness had seized
upon all. Vasco da Gama, even when ill and depressed, was not to be
turned from his purpose. Eastwards and northwards he set his sails, in
the teeth of laments and threats from his sailors, and so on Christmas
Day landed on a part of the coast to which in memory of the most famous
_Dies Natalis_ he gave the name of Natal.
From Natal, battling the dread disease of scurvy brought on by a
prolonged diet of salt meat, the Portuguese commander pursued his way,
attacked, as often as he landed for water and fresh food, by fierce
Mahometan tribes, until at last, guided by an Arabian pilot whom he
had picked up, he came to the harbours of Calicut in India, where was
a Christian king. The new route to Asia had been discovered. ‘A lucky
venture--plenty of emeralds.... You owe great thanks to God for having
brought you to a country holding such riches,’ declared the natives,
and loud was the rejoicing of the Portuguese at this glorious national
prospect.
The likely effects of Vasco da Gama’s voyage did not pass unnoticed
elsewhere in Europe. ‘Soon,’ exclaimed a Venetian merchant in deep
gloom, ‘it will be cheaper to buy goods in Lisbon than in Venice.’ The
death-knell of the great Republic’s commercial prosperity sounded in
these words.
[Sidenote: Christopher Columbus]
In the meanwhile, some years before Vasco da Gama’s triumphant
achievement, a still greater discovery was made that was destined in
the course of time to change the whole commercial aspect of the world.
Its author was a Genoese sailor, Christopher Columbus, who, tradition
says, once sailed as far north as Iceland, and in the south to the
island of Porto Santo. Always in his spare time he could be found
bent over maps and charts, calculating, weaving around his reasoned
mathematical arguments the tales of shipwrecked mariners, until at last
he brought to the ears of his astonished fellow men and women a scheme
for finding Cathay, neither by sailing south nor east, but due west
across the Atlantic.
Here is a fourteenth-century description of the Atlantic, a dismal
picture still popularly accepted in the fifteenth: ‘A vast and
boundless ocean on which ships dared not venture out of sight of
land. For even if sailors knew the directions of the winds they would
not know whither those winds would carry them; and, as there is no
inhabited country beyond, they would run great risks of being lost in
the mist and vapour. The limit of the west is the Atlantic Ocean.’
Many people still believed that the world was flat, and that to sail
across the Atlantic was to incur the risk of being driven by the winds
over the edge into space. Thus Columbus met with either reproof for
contemplating such risks, or ridicule for his folly, but so convinced
was he of his own wisdom that he only grew the more enthusiastic as a
result of opposition.
Without money or royal patronage he could not hope to make the voyage
a success, and so he laid his scheme before the King of Portugal,
usually a willing patron of adventure. Unfortunately for Columbus,
the discoveries along the African coast promised such wealth and trade
to Portugal that her ruler did not feel inclined to take risks in
other directions that, while they must involve expense, as yet held no
guarantee of repayment.
‘I went to take refuge in Portugal,’ wrote Columbus at a later date,
‘since the King of that country was more versed in discovery than any
other, but ... in fourteen years I could not make him understand what I
said.’ Driven at last from Portugal by a decided refusal, Christopher
went to Spain, sending his brother Bartholomew with a letter explaining
his project to King Henry VII of England. It is interesting to note
that the keen-witted Tudor, as soon as the scheme was laid before him,
is said to have expressed his readiness to learn more and to lend his
support; but Bartholomew had been shipwrecked on his voyage northwards,
and owing to this delay Columbus had already received the patronage of
Spain and set out on his voyage before his brother returned with the
news.
It was Queen Isabel of Castile, wife of King Ferdinand of Aragon,[50]
who after considerable hesitation, and against the advice of a council
of leading bishops and statesmen, determined finally to pledge her
sympathy, and tradition says her jewels if necessary, in the mariner’s
cause. Part of the attraction of his project lay in its appeal to
her Castilian imagination, for Castile had been ever haunted by the
possibilities of the bleak grey ocean that rolled at the gates of
Galicia; but still more potent than the thought of discovery was
the desire of spreading the Catholic Faith. This hope also inspired
Columbus, who regarded his enterprise as in the nature of a crusade,
believing that he had been called to preach the Gospel to the millions
of heathen inhabiting Cathay.
When Columbus set forth on his first voyage to ‘the Indies’, as he
roughly called the unknown territory he sought, those who sailed in
his three ships were many of them ‘pressed’ men, that is, sailors
ordered on board by their town, that having incurred royal displeasure
was given this way of appeasing it. Thus they were without enthusiasm
or any belief in what they thought their admiral’s mad and dangerous
adventure, and from the time that they lost sight of land they never
ceased to grumble and utter threats of mutiny. At one time it was the
extraordinary variations in the compass that brought them trembling
to complain; at another the steadiness of the wind blowing from the
East that they believed would never change and allow them to return
home; finally it was the sluggish waters of the Sargassa Sea, amid
whose weeds they saw themselves destined to drift until they died
of starvation and thirst. To every suggestion of setting the sails
eastward Columbus turned a deaf ear: but for the rest he threatened,
cajoled, or argued, as the occasion seemed to demand, his own heart
sinking each time the cry of ‘Land!’ was raised and the ardently
desired vision proved only to be some bank of clouds lying low upon the
horizon.
At length came the news that a moving light had been seen in the
darkness. ‘It appeared like a candle that went up and down,’ says
Columbus in his diary, and all waited eagerly for dawn that revealed at
last a wooded island, later called the Bahamas, but then believed to be
part of the mainland of Asia. Clad in armour, and carrying the royal
banner of Spain, the great discoverer of the West stepped ashore, and
there, humbly kneeling, he and his crews raised to Heaven a _Te Deum_
of thankfulness and joy.
Columbus made five voyages to the West in all, for the way once
shown proved easy enough, nor did he need to ‘press’ crews for the
enterprise, but rather to guard against unwelcome stowaways. The
brown-skinned Indians, gaily coloured parrots, gold nuggets, and
strange roots that he brought back as witness of his first success were
enough to inflame the minds and ambitions of Spaniards with such high
hopes of wealth and glory that they almost fought to be allowed to join
the expeditions.
Vasco da Gama was rewarded for his voyage to India with a large pension
and the Portuguese title of ‘Dom’: he died in honoured old age. It is
sad to find that after the first triumphant return, when no glory and
praise seemed too great to bestow on their hero, the Spaniards turned
against Columbus. They blamed him because gold was not more abundant;
because his settlers quarrelled and started feuds with the natives;
because, although a very great mariner, he did not prove a ‘governor’
able to control and manage other men easily. Not a few were jealous of
his genius, and determined to bring about his ruin out of spite.
From his third voyage to the West Columbus was sent back by his enemies
in chains, ill with wounded pride at his shameful treatment. Queen
Isabel, hearing of it, instantly ordered his release, and tried to
soothe his indignation; but not long afterwards she herself died, and
Ferdinand, left to himself, was wholly intent on Aragonese ambitions in
the Mediterranean. To him the conquest of Naples was far more important
than any discovery of Cathay, and so Columbus’s complaints went
unheeded and he died in poverty forgotten by all save a few. ‘After
twenty years of toil and peril,’ he exclaimed bitterly, as he was borne
ashore from his last voyage, ‘I do not own even a roof in Spain.’
The New World to which he had won an entrance was given the name of
another, namely, of a Florentine, Amerigo Vespucci, who, sailing beyond
the West Indies, reached the mainland.
The effect of Columbus’s discovery upon the life of Europe was
momentous. No longer the Atlantic lay like a grey wall between man and
the Unknown. It had become a highway, not to Cathay but to a greater
West, where were riches beyond all human dreaming, ready as a harvest
for the enterprising and hardworking.
The central road of mediaeval commerce had been the Mediterranean, the
highway of the modern world was to be the Atlantic, and the commercial
future of Europe lay not with the city republics of the South but
with the nations of the North and West, with Portugal and Spain, with
Flanders and England, that had lain upon the fringe of the Old World
but stood at the very heart of the New.
_Supplementary Dates. For Chronological Summary, see pp. 368-73._
Emperor Andronicus II 1282-1328
Emperor John V 1341-91
Sultan Orkhan 1325-59
Sultan Mohammed II 1451-81
Stephen Dushan 1331-55
Marco Polo 1254-1324
Henry ‘the Navigator’ 1394-1460
Cape of Good Hope rounded 1486
XXIII
THE RENAISSANCE
All history is the record of change, either in the direction of social
progress or decay; but so gradual is this movement that, like the
transition from night to dawn or noon to evening, it is beyond our
vision to state the moment when tendencies began or ceased. It is only
possible to note the definite changes in their achievement, and then to
disentangle the threads by turning back along the twisted chain into
which they have been woven.
Sometimes in history there have been so many changes within a short
time that the effect has been cumulative and an epoch has been created,
as at the break-up of the Roman Empire, when civilization was merged
in the ‘Dark Ages’. Again, it is true of Europe at the end of the
fifteenth century and during the greater part of the sixteenth, a
period usually called ‘the Renaissance’, or time of ‘New Birth’,
because then it became apparent that the old mediaeval outlook and
ways of life had vanished, while others much more familiar and easy to
understand had taken their place: the Modern World had been called into
being.
The most obvious change to be found at the Renaissance was the collapse
of the mediaeval ideal of a world-empire ruled in the name of God by
Pope and Emperor. The Western Empire still remained pretentious in its
claims; but its wiser rulers, such as Rudolph I and Charles IV, had
already realized that success lay rather in German kingship than in
imperial influence. The Popes had been restored to Rome, but the threat
of councils that could depose and reform hung like a cloud over their
insistence on the absolute obedience of Christendom; and, recognizing
the inevitable, the Vatican had sunk the ambitions of an Innocent III
in those of a temporal Italian Prince. Searching along the chain of
causes, it becomes clear enough that the trend of history during the
later Middle Ages had been this development of the smaller unity of
the nation out of the bigger unity of the world-state. By the end of
the fifteenth century England, France, and Spain were already nations;
while even Germany and Italy, feeling the call in a lesser degree, had
substituted for a wider sense of nationality devotion to a province or
city state.
The second of the great changes that characterize the Renaissance
was the development of the idea of man as an individual. All through
the Middle Ages, except perhaps in the case of rulers, men and women
counted in the life of the world around them, not so much as separate
influences as a part of the system into which they were born or
absorbed. In early days the tribe accepted its members’ acts, whether
good or bad, as something that was the concern of all to be atoned for,
supported, or avenged, as a public duty. Still more strongly was this
attitude expressed in family affairs, as in the numerous ‘vendettas’,
or feuds like those of the Welfs and Waiblingen, or of ‘the Blacks’ and
‘Whites’ in Florence.
Turning from racial ties to social, we find mediaeval associations
of all kinds holding a man bound, not by his own personal choice or
discretion, but by the decision of the group to which he happened to
be attached. The feudal system was never complete enough in practice
to make a good example of this bondage, but in theory from the
tenant-in-chief to the landowner lowest in the social scale there was
a settled rule of life, dictating the duties and responsibilities of
lord and vassal. Still more was this binding rule true of that greatest
of all mediaeval corporations--monasticism, that demanded from its
sons and daughters absolute obedience in the annihilation of self.
St. Bernard, whose personality was so strong that he could not remain
hidden amongst the mass of his fellows, was yet, we remember, angry
with Abelard for this above all other failings--that he had set up his
individual judgement as a test of life. In Abelard, as in Arnold of
Brescia, lay the first stirrings of the independent modern spirit that
at the Renaissance was to shake the foundations of the mediaeval world.
Besides monasticism there were other associations--the universities
and the class corporations, merchant guilds such as the North German
Hansa, and smaller city guilds, such as the ‘Greater’ and ‘Lesser Arts’
in Florence, comprising groups of lawyers, fishmongers, &c. All these
last maintained a standard of uniformity, regulating not only hours
of work, rate of pay, nature of employment, scale of contributions,
like a modern trade union, but went much farther, interfering in the
life of each individual member to insist on what he should wear in
public and how he might spend the money he had earned. It was a spirit
of benevolent slavery that held sway so long as the strivings of the
individual mind were overborne by a sense of helplessness in the face
of ignorance or by the weight of tradition.
This weight of tradition leads naturally to the third great change
heralded by the Renaissance--the breaking-up of a sky curtained in
mental darkness into separate groups of clouds, still heavily charged
with superstition and ignorance, but their density relieved by the
light of a genuine inquiry after truth for its own sake. During the
Middle Ages we have seen that men and women looked back for inspiration
to the Roman Empire, and this made them distrust progress, just as
a timid rider will dread a spirited horse because he fears to lose
control and to be carried into unknown ways.
The earliest guardian of mediaeval knowledge had been the Church,
and in the light that she understood her task she faithfully taught
the world about her. Her motto was ‘Reverence for the Past’; but,
bent in worship before the altar of tradition, she lost sight of that
other great world-motto, ‘Trust the Future’, which has been one of
the guiding stars of modern times. Her interpretation of the Faith,
of the legitimate bounds of knowledge, of the limits of Art, had been
almost a necessary school of discipline for the early Middle Ages
with their tendency to barbaric licence; but as she civilized men’s
minds and their aptitude for reasoning and understanding deepened, the
restrictions of the school became the bars of a prison. The mediaeval
Church, once a pioneer, lost her grip on realities, her spiritual
outlook became obscured by material ambitions, her faith weakened;
until at last so little sure was she in her heart of the complete truth
of her teaching that she opposed and denounced criticism or discovery,
much like a merchant who is secretly afraid that his methods of
business may be obsolete refuses to entertain ‘newfangled notions’ that
would open his eyes.
When Columbus laid his scheme for crossing the Atlantic before a
council of bishops and leading members of the Spanish universities,
mediaeval knowledge derided his presumption by quoting texts from the
Old Testament and various statements of St. Augustine and other Fathers
of the Church. There could be no Antipodes, they argued, because it was
distinctly said that the world was peopled by the descendants of Noah,
and how could such men have crossed these miles of ocean? Many similar
objections were raised and the mariner’s project condemned, just as
Roger Bacon had been judged a heretic for his scientific inquiries two
hundred years before.[51] It is significant of the change of mental
outlook that while Roger Bacon wasted his last years in prison and
Abelard was driven from the lecture-hall to a monastery, Columbus found
public support, vindicated his calculations, and so opened up a new
world.
The great secret of the Renaissance is indeed this release of the
restless spirit of inquiry after truth, that is as old as humanity
itself, and that, swooping like a bird through the door of a cage out
into the air and sunshine, reckless of danger, carried along by the
sheer joy of unfettered life, sometimes foolish and extravagant in
its zest for experience, was at first too absorbed in the glory and
interest of freedom to feel any regret for the prison that had been at
least a shelter from the many stormy problems that were to rend the
modern world.
Charlemagne had believed that ‘without knowledge good works were
impossible’. The men of the early Renaissance were not so intent
upon the importance of good works or the hope of salvation as their
forefathers, but they would have assented eagerly to the statement
that ‘without knowledge any true understanding of human life was
impossible’.
Had the conditions under which knowledge could be obtained remained as
restricted as in mediaeval times, the Renaissance on its intellectual
side would in all probability have become a cult, a movement shared
by a few learned men and women to which the mass of the people in
every nation had no clue; and in this way it would have died out like
a plant unable to spread its roots. Human invention intervened with
the discovery of printing, which brought the great thoughts of the
world out of the monastic libraries, where they had been laboriously
collected and copied by hand, to distribute them, slowly at first but
ever faster and faster, throughout the busy centres of Europe, where
brains as well as stomachs are always eager for food.
It was a German, John Gutenburg, who invented printing by means of
movable types, but because he had not enough money to carry out his
design he was forced to borrow from a rich citizen of Mainz called John
Fust. This Fust treated John Gutenburg very badly, for he demanded
back the money he had lent so soon as he understood the value of the
other’s secret, and by this means forced Gutenburg, when he could not
pay, to hand over his plant in compensation. Fust then began to print
on his own account, and when the people of Mainz saw the copies of the
Bible that he produced, each number an exact replica of the first,
they declared that he had sold himself to the devil and was practising
magic. Thus, it is said, started the legend of Doctor Faustus that has
inspired poets, musicians, and dramatists.
The first English printer was William Caxton, a Kentishman, to view
whose press came King and court in great amazement, interested, but
utterly unaware of what a mental revolution this small piece of
machinery was to bring about.
The greatest of Italian printers were the Venetians, whose famous
Aldine press produced volumes that are still the admiration of the
world as well as treasure trove for book-collectors. In modern times
the desire for knowledge, or rather for information, has become a
scramble, and printing has degenerated into a trade. In the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries it was regarded as an art, and Aldus Manutius,
the Roman who established his press at Venice, intending to reproduce
an edition of all the Greek authors then known, was a great
scholar, who modelled his letters on the handwriting of the Italian
poet Petrarch, and gathered around him the most intellectual and
enterprising minds of his day to advise and help him. It was at the
Aldine press that one of the leaders of the Dutch Renaissance, Erasmus,
had several of his books printed, and Venice at this time became a
centre for scholars, and for all whose minds were alive with a thirst
for new impressions.
Fifteenth-century Italy was not, on the surface, so very different
from Italy in the fourteenth. The complete domination of the five
Powers, foreshadowed in the earlier century, had become fixed, and
three of them--Milan, Florence, and Naples--had succeeded in forming
an alliance to preserve the balance of power in the peninsula, and to
keep at bay the ambitions of Venice, whose empire was still spreading
over the mainland. In Naples ruled Ferrante I, an illegitimate son of
Alfonso V of Aragon, a typical despot like the Angevins his father had
replaced. In Milan the Visconti had merged themselves in the House of
Sforza, through a clever ruse of one of the most famous of mediaeval
_condottieri_, Francesco Sforza, who, besieging his master, Filippo
Maria Visconti, in Milan in 1441, had forced him to give him his only
daughter and heiress Bianca in marriage, and then to acknowledge him as
his successor.
[Sidenote: ‘Il Moro’]
The grim traditions established by the Visconti continued under this
new family, christened with their very names. Francesco’s son, Galeazzo
Maria, whose life was spent in debauch, is said to have poisoned his
mother and buried his subjects alive. When he was assassinated, his
brother, Ludovico, called from his swarthy complexion _Il Moro_, or
‘the Moor’, seized the reins of government, and proceeded to act
on behalf of his young nephew, Gian Galeazzo, whom he kept in the
background at Pavia, declaring him a helpless invalid.
Philip de Commines describes Ludovico as ‘clever, but very nervous and
cringing when he was afraid: a man without faith when he thought it to
his advantage to break his word’. Outwardly he displayed the genial
manners customary in a Renaissance prince, and presided at Milan over
a court so famed for its hospitality, wit, and intellect that it drew
within its circle painters, sculptors, writers, and scholars, as well
as military heroes and men of fashion.
It will be seen that Italy opened her arms wide to the new spirit of
intellectual and artistic enjoyment. Venice, Naples, Milan, each vied
with the other in attracting and rewarding genius: even the Popes at
Rome, whose natural instinct as the guardian of mediaeval tradition
was to distrust freedom of thought, were influenced by the atmosphere
around them, and to Pope Nicholas V the world owes the foundation of
the wonderful Vatican Library.
To the Queen of the Renaissance states we turn last--to Florence, the
‘City of Flowers’, that we left distracted by the internal discords
of her ‘Blacks’ and ‘Whites’, and by her wars against Filippo Maria
Visconti. The turning of the century had seen great changes in
Florence, the whittling away of the old ideal of liberty that would
brook no master, so that she became willing to accept the domination of
a family superficially disguised as a freely elected government.
The Medici were no royal stock, nor were they flaunting _condottieri_
like the Sforza, but a house of bankers, who by brains and solid
hard work had built up for itself a position of respect, not only in
Florence, but also throughout Europe, where their loans had secured the
fortunes of many a monarchy that would otherwise have tumbled in ruins
owing to lack of funds. It was the advantage of such monarchies to
preserve the credit of the House of Medici, and so the bankers gained
outside influence to aid their ambitions at home.
Within Florence the Medici posed as common-sense men of business,
unassuming citizens, easy of access, ready friends, ever the
supporters, while they were climbing the ladder of civic fame, of the
popular party that loved to shout ‘Liberty!’ in the streets, while it
voted her destroyers into public offices.
[Sidenote: Cosimo de Medici]
Cosimo de Medici, the first of the family to establish a position of
supremacy, was related to many of the nobles debarred by their rank
from any share in the government: but, though he won the allegiance
of this faction, he took care to claim no honour himself that
might frighten the public mind with terrors of a despot. Instead,
simply clad and almost unattended, he walked through the streets,
chatting in friendly equality with the merchants he met, many of
whose interests were identical or wrapped up with his own financial
projects; discussing agriculture with the Tuscan farmers like a country
gentleman, freely spending his money on the schemes of the working
classes, or scattering it amongst beggars.
When he died his mourning fellow citizens inscribed on his tomb the
words _Pater Patriae_, ‘Father of his Country’. They had felt the
benefits received through Cosimo’s government: they had not realized,
or were indifferent to, the chains with which he had bound them. Some
bitter enemies he had, of course, aroused, but these with quiet but
remorseless energy he had swept from his path. It was his custom to
sap the fortunes of possible rivals by immense exactions--to make them
pay in fact for the liberal government, for which he would afterwards
receive the praise, while drawing away their friends and supporters by
bribery and threats. At last, ruined and deserted, they would be driven
from the city; and here even Cosimo did not rest, since his influence
at foreign courts enabled him to hunt his prey from one refuge to
another until they died, impotently cursing the name of Medici, a
warning to malcontents of the length and breadth of a private citizen’s
revenge.
The Medici, it has been said, ‘used taxes as other men use their
swords’, and the charge of deliberate corruption that has been brought
against them is undeniable. ‘It is better to injure the city than to
ruin it,’ once declared Cosimo himself, adding cynically, ‘It takes
more to direct a government than to sit and tell one’s beads.’
Neither he nor his descendants were the type of ruler represented by
Charlemagne or Alfred the Great. Their ideals were frankly low, with
self-interest in the foreground, however skilfully disguised. When this
has been admitted, however, it should be also remembered that Cosimo
employed no army of hired ruffians to terrorize fellow citizens as
the Visconti had done. Florence was willing to be corrupted, and if
she lost the freedom she had loved in theory, yet she rose under the
benevolent despotism of the Medici to a greater height of material and
political prosperity than ever before or since in her history. ‘The
authority that they possessed in Florence and throughout Christendom’,
says Machiavelli, ‘was not obtained without being merited.’
[Sidenote: The New Learning]
It was under the fostering care of the Medici that Florence, more than
any of the other Italian states, became the home of the intellectual
Renaissance, from which the ‘New Learning’ was to radiate out across
the world. This intellectual movement was twofold. Still under
mediaeval influence, it began at first by finding its inspiration
in the past, and so introduced a great classical revival, in which
manuscripts of Greek and Latin authors and statues of gods and nymphs
were almost as much revered as relics of the saints in an earlier
age. Rich men hastened on journeys to the East in order to purchase
half-burned fragments of literature from astonished Greeks, while in
the lecture-halls of Italy eager pupils clamoured for fresh light on
ancient philosophy and history. So great was the enthusiasm that it is
said one famous scholar’s hair turned white with grief when he learned
of the shipwreck of a cargo of classical books.
Cosimo de Medici had been a ‘friend and patron of learned men’; but
it was in the time of his grandson, Lorenzo ‘the Magnificent’, that
the Renaissance reached its height in Florence. It was Lorenzo who
founded the ‘Platonic Academy’ in imitation of the old academies of
Greek philosophers, an assembly that became the battle-ground of
the sharpest and most brilliant intellects of the day. Here were
fought word-tournaments, often venomous in the intensity of their
partisanship, between defenders of the views of Plato and of Aristotle:
here were welcomed like princes cultured Greeks, driven into exile
by Mahometan invasion, certain of crowded and enthusiastic audiences
if only they were prepared to lecture on the literary treasures of
their race. The enthusiasm recalled the days when Abelard held Paris
spellbound by his reasoning on theology, but showed how far away had
slipped the age of dialectics.
The last great name amongst the schoolmen is that of Duns Scotus,
a Franciscan of the thirteenth century, who raised the process of
logical reasoning to such a fine art that it has been said of him,
‘he reasoned scholasticism out of human reach’. Ordinary theologians
could not dispute with him, since it made their brains reel even to
try and follow his arguments, so at last they snapped their fingers
at him, crying, ‘Oh, Duns! Duns!’ Thus by his excessive skill in
intellectual juggling he reduced himself and his subject to absurdity,
and ‘Dunce’ has passed down to posterity as a fitting name for some one
unreasonably stupid.
Scholasticism, the glory of mediaeval lecture-halls, held no thrill
or charm for men of the Renaissance, and though Aristotle was still
revered and a great deal of labour expended on trying to make his views
and those of Plato match with current religious beliefs, yet the spirit
that underlay this attempt was wholly different to the efforts of
mediaeval minds.
‘Salvation’, ‘The City of God’--such words and phrases had been keys to
the thought of the Middle Ages from St. Augustine to St. Dominic and
St. Thomas Aquinas. To Renaissance minds there was but one master-word,
‘Humanity’.
What message had these classical philosophers, that tradition held had
lived in a golden age, for struggling humanity more than a thousand
years later? The men and women of the Renaissance, as they put this
question, hoped that the answers they discovered would agree with the
Faith that the Church had taught them; but there was no longer the same
insistence that they must or be disregarded as heresy. The interest in
an immortal soul had become mingled with interest in what was human and
transitory, with the beauty and charm of this life as well as with the
glory of the next.
Searching after beauty, no longer under the stern school-mistress
‘tradition’, but led by that will-o’-the-wisp ‘literary instinct’, the
poets and authors under the influence of the Renaissance gradually
turned from the use of Latin and Greek to that more natural medium of
expression, their own language.
This was the second aspect of the ‘New Learning’, the disappearance of
the belief that Latin and Greek alone were literary, and the gradual
linking up of mediaeval with modern scholarship by the discovery that
the growth of national ideals and aspirations could best be expressed
in a living national tongue. The forerunners of this movement lived
long before the period that we usually call the Renaissance. Thus
Dante, greatest of mediaeval minds, was inspired to employ his native
Italian in his masterpiece, the _Divina Commedia_, that, had his genius
been less original, might have been merely a classical imitation.
Petrarch, the friend of Rienzi and lover of liberty, who lived at the
papal court at Avignon, was half-ashamed of his Italian sonnets, yet it
is by their charm still more than by his Latin letters that he lives
to-day, as Boccaccio by the witty easy-flowing style of his tales.
These are the names of literary ‘immortals’, and perhaps it may
seem strange to find, when we pass from them to the ‘New Learning’
itself, that the greater part of the works published by members of the
‘Platonic Academy’ and other intellectual circles are now as dead as
the dialectics of the schoolmen. Yet it is still harder, if we turn
their pages, to believe that such florid sentences and long-drawn
arguments could ever have stirred men’s blood to a frenzy of enthusiasm
or passion. The explanation lies in the fact that for all the charm of
its newly-won freedom, the Renaissance, on its literary side, was not
a time of creation but of criticism and inquiry. Its leaders were too
busy clearing away outworn traditions, collecting material for fresh
thought, and laying literary foundations, to build themselves with any
breadth of vision. Where they paused exhausted, or failed, the ‘giants’
of the modern world were able to erect their masterpieces.
Lorenzo ‘the Magnificent’ himself we can remember for the genuine
love of nature and poetry apparent in his sonnets, but his claim to
remain immortal in the world’s history must rest, not on his literary
achievements, but on his generous patronage and appreciation of
scholars and artists, as well as on the political wisdom that made him
the first statesman of his day.
[Sidenote: Giotto]
If the literature of the Renaissance was mainly experimental in
character, painting was pre-eminently its finished glory--the
representation of that sense of beauty in nature and in human life
from which the Middle Ages had turned away, as from a snare set by the
Devil to distract souls from Paradise. Here again, in painting, there
is a twofold aspect: the artist mind seeking in the past as well as
aspiring to the future for inspiration to guide his brush. It was in
the life of St. Francis, ‘the little Brother of Assisi’, that Giotto,
the great forerunner of the ‘new’ art, found that sense of humanity
idealized that spurred him to break away from the old conventional
Byzantine models, stiff, decorative, and inhuman, in order to attempt
the realization of life as he saw it around him in the street and field.
Cimabue, a famous Florentine painter, had found Giotto as a shepherd
lad, cutting pictures of the sheep grouped round him with a stone
upon the rockside. He carried the boy away to be his apprentice, but
the pupil soon excelled the master and not merely Florence but all
Italy heard of his wondrous colours and designs. ‘He took nature for
his guide,’ says Leonardo da Vinci; and many are the tales of this
kindly peasant genius, small and ugly in appearance but full of the
joy and humour of the world that he studied so shrewdly. The Angevin
King Robert of Naples once asked him to suggest a symbol of his
own turbulent Southern kingdom, whereupon the artist drew a donkey
saddled, sniffing at another saddle lying on the ground. ‘Such are your
subjects,’ he remarked, ‘that every day would seek a new master.’ No
politician could have made a more fitting summary of mediaeval Naples.
Giotto’s chief fame to-day lies in his frescoes of the life of St.
Francis on the walls of the double chapel at Assisi and in the
Franciscan Church of Santa Croce in Florence. Most of them, damaged
by the action of time and weather on the rough plaster, have been
repaired to their disadvantage, though a few remain unharmed to show
the painter’s clear, delicate colouring and boldness of outline. To the
average sightseer to-day they seem perhaps just legendary pictures,
more or less crude in design, but when Giotto painted we must remember
that the crowds who watched his brush in breathless admiration read as
they gazed the story of the most human of saints--a man who had but
lately walked amongst the Umbrian hills, and whose words and deeds were
to them more vivid than many a living utterance.
To understand what the genius of Giotto meant to his own day we must
consider the stiff unreality of former art, just as we cannot realize
the greatness of Columbus by thinking of a modern voyage from the
Continent to America, but only by recalling the primitive navigation of
his time. Giotto, like Columbus, had many imitators and followers, some
of them famous names, but the pioneer work that he had done for art
was commemorated at the Renaissance when, by the orders of Lorenzo de
Medici, a Latin epitaph was placed on his tomb containing these words:
‘Lo! I am he by whom dead Art was restored to life ... by whom Art
became one with Nature.’
It would be impossible to condense satisfactorily in a few short
paragraphs the triumphant history of Renaissance painting, the rapid
development of which Giotto and his ‘school’ had made practicable,
or even to give a slight sketch of the artists on whom that history
depends. Never before has so much genius been crowded into so few
years; but before we leave this pre-eminent age in modern Art, there
is one arresting figure who must be described, a man who more than any
other embodies the spirit of the Renaissance at its best, Leonardo da
Vinci, ‘foremost amongst the supreme masters of the world’.
[Sidenote: Leonardo da Vinci]
Leonardo ‘the Florentine’, as he liked to call himself, was born in
the fortified village of Vinci midway between Florence and Pisa.
The illegitimate son of a notary, born as it would seem to no great
heritage, he was yet early distinguished amongst his fellows.
‘The richest gifts of Heaven,’ says Vasari, ‘are sometimes showered
upon the same person, and beauty, grace, and genius, are combined in
so rare a manner in one man that, to whatever he may apply himself,
every action is so divine that all others are left behind him.’ This
reads like exaggeration until we turn to the facts that are known
about Da Vinci’s life, and find he is all indeed Vasari described--a
giant amongst his fellows in physique and intellect, and still more
in practical imagination. So strong was he that with his fingers he
could bend a horseshoe straight, so full of potent charm for all things
living that his presence in a room would draw men and women out of
sadness, while in the streets the wildest horses would willingly yield
to his taming power. Of the cruelty that rests like a stain on the
Middle Ages there was in him no trace--rather that hot compassion for
suffering and weakness so often allied with strength. It is told of him
as of St. Francis that he would buy the singing-birds sold in cages in
the street that he might set them free.
His copy-books are full of the drawings of horses, and probably his
greatest work of art, judged by the opinion of his day and the rough
sketches still extant of his design, was the statue he modelled for
Ludovico ‘Il Moro’ of Francesco Sforza, the famous _condottiere_ poised
on horseback. Unfortunately it perished almost at once, hacked in
pieces by the French soldiery when they drove Ludovico from his capital
some years later.
Leonardo has been called the ‘true founder of the Italian School of
oil-painting’. His most celebrated picture, ‘The Last Supper’, painted
in oils as an experiment, on the walls of a convent near Milan, began
to flake away, owing to the damp, even before the artist’s death. It
has been so constantly retouched since, that very little, save the
consummate art in the arrangement of the figures, and the general
dramatic simplicity of the scene depicted, is left to show the
master-hand. Even this is enough to convey his genius. Amongst the most
famous of his works that still remain are his ‘Mona Lisa’, sometimes
called ‘La Gioconda’, the portrait of a Neapolitan lady, and the
‘Madonna of the Rocks’, both in the gallery of the Louvre.
Leonardo excelled his age in engineering, in his knowledge of anatomy
and physics, in his inventive genius that led him to guess at the
power of steam, and struggle over models of aeroplanes, at which his
generation laughed and shrugged their shoulders. He himself took
keen pleasure in such versatility, but his art, that held other men
spellbound with admiration, would plunge him in depression. ‘When he
sat down to paint he seemed overcome with fear’, says one account of
him, and describes how he would alter and finally destroy, in despair
of attaining his ideal, canvases that those about him considered
already perfect. It is little wonder then that few finished works came
from the brush of this indefatigable worker; but his influence on his
age and after-centuries was none the less prodigious.
Leonardo stands for all that was best in the Renaissance--its zest for
truth, its eager vitality and love of experiment, but most of all for
its sympathy. He is the embodiment of that motto that seems more than
any other to express the Renaissance outlook: _Homo sum; humani nil a
me alienum puto_--‘I am a man, and nothing pertaining to mankind is
foreign to my nature.’
* * * * *
Italy, we have seen, was pre-eminently the home of the Renaissance--the
teacher destined to give the world the ‘New Learning’ as she had
preserved the old during the Dark Ages. In those sunny days, when
Lorenzo ‘the Wise’, as well as ‘the Magnificent’, ruled in Florence,
and by his statesmanship preserved so neat a balance of politics that
the peninsula, divided by five ambitious Powers, yet remained at peace,
a glorious future seemed assured; but in 1492, the year that Columbus
discovered America, Lorenzo died. ‘The peace of Italy is dead also,’
exclaimed a statesman with prophetic insight, when he heard the news:
and indeed the stability and moderation that Lorenzo and his house had
symbolized was soon threatened.
In Florence, Wisdom was succeeded by Folly in the person of Piero,
Lorenzo’s son, an Orsini on his mother’s side, and an inheritor to the
full of the haughty, intractable temperament of the Roman baronage.
Playing his football in the streets amongst the shopkeepers’ open
booths, insolent to the merchants his father had courted, reckless of
advice, Piero was soon to learn that a despotism, such as that of the
Medici, founded not on armies but on public goodwill, falls at the
first adverse wind. This wind, a whirlwind for Italy, blew from France;
but it was Ludovico ‘Il Moro’, not the young Medici, who actually sowed
the seed.
‘Nervous and cringing,’ as Philip de Commines had described him,
Ludovico had found himself involved by his treatment of his nephew in
a fog of suspicions and fears. Left to himself, uneducated and ailing
in health, Gian Galeazzo Sforza would never have dared to thwart his
ambitious uncle; but he had married a Neapolitan princess of stronger
fibre, a granddaughter of Ferrante I, and when she complained to her
relations, and they in turn remonstrated with ‘Il Moro’, trouble began.
It seemed to Ludovico, assailed by secret visions of Naples allying
herself with Milan’s most dreaded enemy Venice, or even with Florence
and Rome to secure revenge and his own downfall, that he must hastily
give up the idea that Lorenzo had advocated of a balance of power
within the peninsula itself, and look instead beyond the mountains for
help and support. Mediaeval annals could give many instances of Popes
and former rulers of Milan who had taken this same unpatriotic step,
while a ready excuse could be found for invoking the aid of France, on
account of the French King’s descent from the Second House of Anjou,
that Alfonso V, Ferrante’s father, had driven from Naples.[52]
Acting, then, from motives of personal ambition, not from any wide
conception of statecraft, Ludovico persuaded Charles VIII of France,
son of Louis XI, that honour and glory lay in his renewal of the
old Angevin claims to Naples, and in 1494, with a great flourish of
trumpets, the French expedition started across the Alps. ‘I will assist
in making you greater than Charlemagne,’ Ludovico had boasted, when
dangling his bait before the young French King’s eyes; but the results
of what he had intended were so far beyond his real expectations as to
give him new cause for ‘cringing and fear’. ‘The French,’ said Pope
Alexander VI sarcastically, ‘needed only a child’s wooden spurs and
chalk to mark up their lodgings for the night.’
[Sidenote: French Invasion of Italy]
Almost without opposition, and where they encountered it achieving
easy victories, the French marched through Italy from north to south,
entering Florence, that had driven Piero and his brothers into exile,
compelling the hasty submission of Rome, sweeping the Aragonese from
Naples, whose fickle population came out with cheers to greet their new
conquerors.
Certainly the causes of this victory were not due to the young
conqueror himself, with his ungainly body and over-developed head,
with his swollen ambitions and feeble brain, with his pious talk of a
crusade against the East, and the idle debauch for which he and his
subjects earned unenviable notoriety. Commines, a Frenchman with a
shrewd idea of his master’s incompetence, believed that God must have
directed the conquering armies, since the wisdom of man had nothing to
say to it; but Italian historians found the cause of their country’s
humiliation in her political and military decadence.
We have seen how ‘Companies’ of hired soldiers held Italy in thrall
during the fourteenth century; but with the passing of years what was
once a serious business had become a complicated kind of chess with
mercenary levies for pawns. Fifteenth-century _condottieri_ were as
great believers in war as ever Sir John Hawkwood; but, susceptible to
the veneer of civilization that glosses the Renaissance, they had lost
the mediaeval taste for bloodshed. What they retained was the desire
to prolong indeterminate campaigns in order to draw their pay, while
reducing the dangers and hardships involved to the least adequate
pretence of real warfare. Here is Machiavelli’s sarcastic commentary:
‘They spared no effort,’ he says, ‘to relieve themselves and their
men from fatigue and danger, not killing one another in battle but
making prisoners ... they would attack no town by night nor would
those within make sorties against their besieging foes. Their camps
were without rampart or trench. They fought no winter campaigns.’
Before the national levies of France, rough campaigners with no taste
for military chess but only determined on as speedy a victory as
possible, the make-believe armies of Italy were mown down like ninepins
or ran away. Thus clashed two opposing systems--one real, the other by
this time almost wholly artificial--and because of its noise and stir,
1494, the year of Charles VIII’s invasion of Italy, is often taken as
the boundary-line between mediaeval and modern times, just as the year
476, when Romulus Augustulus gave up his crown, is accepted as the
beginning of the Middle Ages. In both cases it is not the events of
the actual year that can be said to have created the change. They are
merely the culminating evidence of the end of an old order of things
and the beginning of a new.
[Sidenote: End of the Middle Ages]
By 1494 Constantinople was in the hands of the Turks: Columbus had
discovered America: John Gutenburg had invented his printing-press:
Vasco da Gama was meditating his voyage to India. All these things were
witness of ‘a new birth’, the infancy of a modern world; but the year
1494 stands also as evidence of the death of an old, the mediaeval.
Stung by the oppression and insolence of their conquerors, Italian
armies and intrigue were to drive the French in the years to come
temporarily out of Naples; but in spite of this success the effect of
Charles VIII’s military ‘walk-over’ was never to be effaced. Italy,
in Roman times the centre of Europe from which all law and order had
radiated, had clung to a fiction of this power and glory through
mediaeval days. Now at last the sham was exposed, and before the forces
of nationality her boasted supremacy collapsed. The centre of political
gravity had changed, and with it the traditions and ideals for which
the supremacy of Italy had stood.
_Supplementary Dates. For Chronological Summary, see pp. 368-73_.
Invention of Printing 1435
Caxton’s Press 1474
The Aldine Press 1494
Duns Scotus (died) 1308
Petrarch 1304-74
Giotto 1276-1337
Leonardo da Vinci 1452-1519
Ferrante I of Naples (died) 1494
French Invasion of Italy 1494
SOME AUTHORITIES ON MEDIAEVAL HISTORY
PERIODS OF EUROPEAN HISTORY.
_The Dark Ages._ C. W. Oman.
_The Empire and Papacy._ T. F. Tout.
_The Close of the Middle Ages._ R. Lodge.
TEXT-BOOKS OF EUROPEAN HISTORY.
_Mediaeval Europe._ K. Bell.
_The Renaissance and the Reformation._ E. M. Tanner.
EPOCHS OF MODERN HISTORY.
_The Beginning of the Middle Ages._ R. Church.
_The Normans in Europe._ A. H. Johnson.
_The Crusades._ G. W. Cox.
_Edward III._ W. Warburton.
HOME UNIVERSITY LIBRARY.
_Mohammedanism._ D. S. Margoliouth.
_Mediaeval Europe._ H. W. Davis.
_The Renaissance._ E. Sichel.
FOREIGN STATESMEN SERIES.
_Charles the Great._ T. Hodgkin.
_Philip Augustus._ W. H. Hutton.
_Cosimo de Medici._ D. K. Ewart.
MEDIAEVAL TOWN SERIES. _Venice_, _Assisi_, &c.
HEROES OF THE NATIONS.
_Alfred ‘The Great’._ B. A. Lees.
_Theodoric the Goth._ T. Hodgkin.
_Charlemagne._ H. W. Davis.
_Columbus._ Washington Irving.
_Isabel of Castile._ I. Plunket.
_The Cid Campeador._ H. Butler-Clarke.
_Prince Henry of Portugal._ R. Beazley.
_Lorenzo de Medici._ A. Armstrong.
_Mahomet._ D. S. Margoliouth.
_Saladin._ S. Lane Poole.
_Charles the Bold._ R. Putnam, and others.
STORY OF THE NATIONS.
_Germany._ S. Baring-Gould.
_Spain._ Watts.
_Moors in Spain._ Lane Poole.
_Turkey._ Lane Poole.
_Byzantine Empire._ Oman.
_Hansa Towns._ H. Zimmern.
_Denmark and Sweden._ Stefanson.
_Norway._ Boyesen, and others.
GENERAL WORKS.
_Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire._ Gibbon.
_The Cambridge Mediaeval History._
_The Cambridge Modern History_ (vol. i).
_The Mediaeval Mind._ Osborne Taylor.
_Illustrations of the History of Mediaeval Thought._ Lane Poole.
_History of Latin Christianity._ H. Milman.
_A Handbook of European History. 476-1871._ A. Hassall.
_A Notebook of Mediaeval History. 328-1453._ R. Beazley.
_A Source Book for Mediaeval History._ Thatcher and McNeal.
_The Monks of the West_ (vol. v). Gasquet.
_The Black Death._ Gasquet.
_Histoire Générale._ Lavisse et Rambaud.
_History of the Papacy during the Reformation_ (vol. i). Creighton.
_History of the Inquisition in the Middle Ages._ H. C. Lea.
_A Book of Discovery._ M. B. Synge.
_The Crusades._ Archer and Kingsford.
_The Normans in Europe._ Haskins.
_Introduction to the History of Western Europe._ T. H. Robinson.
ITALY.
_Roman Society in the Last Century of the Western Empire._ S. Dill.
_Social Life in Rome, &c._ Warde-Fowler.
_Italy and her Invaders._ T. Hodgkin.
_Life and Times of Hildebrand._ A. E. Mathew.
_Innocent the Great._ G. H. Pirie-Gordon.
_History of Rome in the Middle Ages._ Gregorovius.
_From Francis to Dante._ Coulton.
_Dante and his Time._ C. Federn.
_François d’Assise._ P. Sabatier.
_Francis of Assisi._ Little.
_History of the Italian Republics._ Sismondi.
_The Age of the Condottieri._ O. Browning.
_Guelfs and Ghibellines._ O. Browning.
_Studies in Venetian History_ (vol. i). H. Brown.
_The Painters of Florence._ J. Cartwright.
_The Prince._ Machiavelli.
_History of Florence._ Machiavelli.
FRANCE AND SPAIN.
_Histoire de France_ (vol. i). Duruy.
_The Court of a Saint._ W. Knox.
_Chronicle._ Joinville.
_Histoire de la Jacquerie._ S. Luce.
_The Maid of France._ A. Lang.
_Mémoires._ Philippe de Commines.
_Chronicles._ Froissart.
_La France sous Philippe le Bel._ Boutaric.
_History of Charles the Bold._ Kirk.
_Histoire de France._ Michelet.
_The Spanish People._ Martin Hume.
_The Rise of the Spanish Empire._ R. Bigelow Merriman.
_Ferdinand and Isabella._ Prescott.
_Christians and Moors in Spain._ C. Yonge.
GERMANY.
_The Mediaeval Empire._ H. A. L. Fisher.
_Holy Roman Empire._ Bryce.
_Germany in the Early and Later Middle Ages_ (two vols.). Stubbs.
_The Life of Frederick II, &c._ Kington.
Chronological Summary, 476-1494
---------------------------------+------------------------------------
_Eastern Europe and Asia Minor._ | _France and Spain._
---------------------------------+------------------------------------
475-491 Emperor Zeno. |
|
|481-511 Clovis, King of the Franks.
| 486 Battle of Soissons.
|
491-518 Emperor Anastasius. |
518-527 Emperor Justin I. |
527-565 Emperor Justinian. |
565-578 Emperor Justin II. |
|
| 585 Visigothic Conquest of
| Spain complete.
|
610-641 Emperor Heraclius. |
622 The ‘Hijrah’. |
626 Siege of Constantinople |
by Chosroes. |
627 Battle of Nineveh. |
634 Battle of Yermuk. |
|628-638 Dagobert I.
637 Jerusalem taken by the |
Moslems. |
642-668 Emperor Constans II. |
668-685 Emperor Constantine IV |
(Pogonatus). |
685-695}Justinian II. |
705-711} |
| 712 Battle of Guadalete.
715-717 Theodosius III. |714-741 Charles Martel, ‘Mayor of
717-740 Leo ‘the Isaurian’. | the Palace’.
| 732 Battle of Poitiers.
|
| 751 Dethronement of the
| Merovingians.
786-809 Haroun al-Raschid, |768-814 Charlemagne, King of the
Caliph of Bagdad. | Franks.
780-797 Emperor Constantine VI. |
797-802 Empress Irene. |
|814-840 Louis I ‘the Pious’.
| 842 Oath of Strasbourg.
| 843 Treaty of Verdun.
---------------------------------+------------------------------------
_Italy._ | _Central and Northern Europe._
---------------------------------+------------------------------------
476 Romulus Augustulus |
deposed, Odoacer |
becomes ‘Patrician’. |
489 Invasion of Italy by the | 480 Landing of the Angles in
Ostrogoths. | Britain.
493-526 Theoderic, King of |
Italy. |
556 Conquest of Italy by |
Justinian. |
568 Conquest of North Italy | 563 St. Columba’s Mission to
by the Lombards. | Scotland.
| 577 Victory of West Saxons at
| Dyrham.
|
590-604 Pope Gregory ‘the | 597 Mission of St. Augustine to
Great’. | England.
|
|
|
|
741-752 Pope Zacharias. | 743 Boniface becomes Archbishop
| of Mainz.
753 End of Exarchate of |
Ravenna. |
752-757 Pope Stephen II. |
772-795 Pope Adrian I. |
795-816 Pope Leo III. |
800 Charlemagne crowned in |
Rome. |
|
|837-878 Struggle between West
| Saxons and Danes.
|843-876 Louis ‘the German’.
858-867 Pope Nicholas I. |
---------------------------------+------------------------------------
_Eastern Europe and Asia Minor._ | _France and Spain._
---------------------------------+------------------------------------
873-867 Rupture between |880-888 Charles ‘the Fat’,
Churches of East and | Emperor of the West.
West. |
867-886 Emperor Basil I. | 885 Siege of Paris by the
| Northmen.
| 909 Foundation of Cluni.
|898-929 Charles ‘the Simple’.
|987-996 Hugh Capet, King of
| France.
|
|
| 1031 Break up of Caliphate of
| Cordova.
1039 ‘Seljuk’ Turks conquer |
Caliphate of Bagdad. |
|
|
1081-1118 Emperor Alexius |
Commenus I. |
1096-1099 The First Crusade. |
1099 Capture of Jerusalem |
by Crusaders. |
1118 Order of Templars |
founded. |
| 1138 St. Bernard attacks
| Abelard.
1146-1149 Second Crusade. | 1153 Death of St. Bernard.
1187 Saladin takes |1180-1223 Philip II ‘Augustus’ of
Jerusalem. | France.
1189-1192 Third Crusade. |
|
1202 Fourth Crusade. |
1204-1261 Latin Empire of | 1204 Philip II conquers
Constantinople. | Normandy.
1204-1260 Empire of Nicea. | 1209 Albigensian Crusade.
| 1212 The Children’s Crusade.
| 1312 Battle of Las Navas de
| Tolosa.
| 1214 Battle of Bouvines.
|
|
1228-1229 Crusade of |1226-1270 Louis IX of France (St.
Frederick II. | Louis).
|
1248-1256 Seventh Crusade. St. | 1230 Union of Leon and Castile.
Louis invades Egypt |
and Palestine. |
---------------------------------+------------------------------------
_Italy._ | _Central and Northern Europe._
---------------------------------+------------------------------------
| 871-901 Alfred ‘the Great’, King
| of Wessex.
| 878 Peace of Wedmore.
| 911-918 Emperor Conrad I.
| 919-936 Emperor Henry I ‘the
| Fowler’.
| 936-973 Emperor Otto I.
962 Otto I crowned Emperor | 955 Battle of Augsburg.
of Rome. | 973-983 Emperor Otto II.
| 979-1016 Ethelred II ‘the
| Rede-less’.
| 983-1002 Emperor Otto III.
|1003-1024 Emperor Henry II.
1046 Synod of Sutri. |1017-1035 Cnut—King of England.
1060-1091 Norman Conquest of |1024-1039 Emperor Conrad II.
Sicily. |
1073-1085 Pope Gregory VII |1039-1056 Emperor Henry III.
(Hildebrand). |1056-1106 Emperor Henry IV.
1077 Humiliation of Henry | 1066 Norman Conquest of
IV at Canossa. | England.
1088-1099 Pope Urban II. |
|1106-1125 Emperor Henry V.
|
|
| 1122 Concordat of Worms.
|1137-1152 Emperor Conrad III.
|
1176 Battle of Legnano. |1153-1190 Emperor Frederick I—
1183 Peace of Constance. | ‘Barbarossa’.
| 1170 Murder of Thomas Becket.
|
1198-1216 Pope Innocent III. |1190-1197 Emperor Henry VI.
|
|
1210 Innocent III; |
excommunication |
of Otto IV. |
1216-1227 Pope Honorius III. |1215-1250 Emperor Frederick II.
| 1215 Magna Charta.
1223 Foundation of the |
Franciscan Order. |
1225 Treaty of San Germano. |
1227-1241 Pope Gregory IX. | 1226 Teutonic Order moves to
| Prussia.
|
1243-1254 Pope Innocent IV. |1256-1273 The ‘Great Interregnum’.
1282 The Sicilian Vespers. |
---------------------------------+------------------------------------
_Eastern Europe and Asia Minor._ | _France and Spain._
---------------------------------+------------------------------------
1260-1282 Emperor Michael |
Paleologus. |
1270 Eighth Crusade. |1285-1314 Philip IV ‘le Bel’ of
St. Louis invades | France.
North Africa. |
1291 Fall of Acre. |1309-1376 The Babylonish Captivity.
| 1312 Suppression of the
| Templars.
|
| 1337 Outbreak of the Hundred
| Years’ War.
| 1346 Battle of Creci.
| 1347 English capture Calais.
|1347-1348 The Black Death.
|
| 1356 Battle of Poitiers.
| 1358 The Jacquerie.
| 1360 Treaty of Bretigni.
| 1367 Battle of Navarette.
1370-1382 King Louis ‘the Great’ |
of Hungary and |
Poland. |
|
1386 Union of Poland and |
Lithuania. |
1389 Battle of Kossovo. |
|
|
| 1415 Battle of Agincourt.
|
| 1419 Murder of John ‘the
| Fearless’.
| 1420 Treaty of Troyes.
|
| 1430 Death of Jeanne d’Arc.
| 1440 The Praguerie.
|
1448-1453 Emperor Constantine XI.|
1453 Fall of Constantinople.| 1453 End of the Hundred Years’
| War.
|1461-1483 Louis XI of France.
|1483-1498 Charles VIII.
|
| 1492 Columbus discovers
| America.
| 1498 Vasco da Gama discovers
| Cape route to India.
---------------------------------+------------------------------------
_Italy._ | _Central and Northern Europe._
---------------------------------+------------------------------------
|
1294 Celestine V. |
1294-1303 Boniface VIII. |1273-1291 Emperor Rudolf I.
|1298-1308 Emperor Albert I.
| 1309 Independence of Swiss
| Forest Cantons
| recognized.
| 1314 Battle of Bannockburn.
| 1315 Battle of Morgarten.
| 1340 Battle of Sluys.
|
1347-1354 Rienzi founds the |1347-1378 Emperor Charles IV.
Holy Roman |
Republic. |
| 1356 The Golden Bull.
|
1377 Pope Gregory XI | 1370 Treaty of Stralsund.
returns to Rome |
from Avignon. |
1378-1417 The Great Schism. |
1380 Battle of Chioggia. | 1380 Wycliffe translates the
1395 Gian Galeazzo | Bible.
Visconti becomes | 1397 The Union of Kalmar.
Duke of Milan. |
|1410-1437 Emperor Sigismund.
| 1410 Battle of Tannenburg.
|1414-1418 Council of Constance.
| 1415 Death of John Huss.
1417 Election of Pope |
Martin V. End of |
the Schism. |
|
|
| 1431 Council of Basel.
| 1436 John Gutenburg invents the
| Printing Press.
|1438-1439 Emperor Albert II.
|1440-1493 Emperor Frederick III.
|
|1455-1485 The Wars of the Roses.
|
1469-1492 Lorenzo de Medici | 1476 Battles of Granson and
rules Florence. | Morat.
| 1477 Battle of Nanci.
1494 Charles VIII invades |
Italy. |
MEDIAEVAL GENEALOGIES
[Illustration:
1 The King of England from the Conquest until Henry VII
2 The House of Charlemagne
3 The House of Capet
4 The House of Valois
5 The Norman Rulers of Sicily
6 The First & Second House of Anjou in Naples
7 The House of Aragon in Spain & Naples
8 The House of Castile & Leon
9 The Guelfs & Ghibellines
10 The Dukes of Burgundy & House of Habsburg
11 The House of Luxemburg
12 The Paleologi
]
[Illustration: 1. THE ENGLISH KINGS FROM THE CONQUEST UNTIL HENRY VII
WILLIAM I
1066-1087
|
+----------------+----+-------+-------------------+
| | | |
ROBERT WILLIAM II HENRY I ADELA = STEPHEN
Duke of Normandy 1087-1100 1110-1133 | Earl of
| | Blois
+---------------+ |
| | |
WILLIAM MATILDA = GEOFFREY STEPHEN
d.1120 | Count of Anjou 1135-1154
|
HENRY II
1154-1189
|
+-----------+-------------------+---------+--+---------+
| | | | |
HENRY MATILDA = HENRY RICHARD I JOHN ELEANOR = ALFONSO IX
d.1182 the Lion 1189-1199 1199-1216 of Castile
of Saxony |
HENRY III
1216-1272
|
+------------------------------------------+------------------+
| |
EDWARD I = ELEANOR EDMUND
1272-1307 | of Castile Earl of Lancaster
| |
EDWARD II = ISABEL HENRY
1307-1327 | of France Earl of Lancaster
| |
EDWARD III = PHILIPPA HENRY
1327-1377 | of Hainault Duke of Lancaster
| |
+----------+------------+ +-----------+
| | | |
EDWARD EDMUND JOHN = BLANCHE
the “Black Duke of of | Heiress of Lancaster
Prince” York Gaunt|
d.1376 (4th.son) (3rd.son)|
| | +-------+
| | | |
RICHARD II RICHARD HENRY IV PHILIPPA = JOHN I
1377-1399 Earl of 1399-1413 |of
Cambridge | |Portugal
| | |
| | PRINCE HENRY
| | the Navigator
| |
+---------+ +--------------+----+---------+
| | | |
RICHARD HENRY V = CATHERINE JOHN HUMPHREY
Duke of York 1413-1422| of Duke of Duke of
| | France Bedford Gloucester
+---------+--+ | d.1433 d.1447
| | |
EDWARD IV RICHARD III HENRY VI
1431-1483 1483-1485 1422-1461
(d. 1471)
|
+------+---+-------------+
| | |
EDWARD V RICHARD ELIZABETH = HENRY VII
Murdered Duke of York 1485-1509
1483 Murdered 1483
]
[Illustration: 2. THE HOUSE OF CHARLEMAGNE
CHARLES MARTEL
Duke of Austrasia. Mayor of the Palace
|
PEPIN “the Short”
King of the Franks 751-768
|
+-------------------+--------------+
| |
CHARLEMAGNE CARLOMAN
King of the Franks 771 King of Austrasia
Emperor of the West 800-814 768-771
|
+---------+-----------------------------+
| | |
CHARLES PEPIN LOUIS the Pious
d.811 Kg. of Italy d.810 Emperor of the West 814-840
| |
| |
BERNARD |
King of Italy 810-818 |
|
+-----------+-----------+---------+-----+
| | | |
LOTHAR PEPIN LOUIS CHARLES “the Bald”
Emperor of Kg. of Kg. of Kg. of France
the West Aquitaine Germany 843-877
840-855 d.838 843-876 |
| |
CHARLES LOUIS II
“the Fat” Kg. of
Emperor of France
the West 877-879
881-887 |
|
+------------------+-----------+
| | |
LOUIS III CARLOMAN CHARLES III
Kg. of France Kg. of France “the Simple”
879-882 879-884 Kg. of France
892-929
|
LOUIS IV
Kg. of France
“d’Outremer”
936-954
|
+--------+-----+
| |
LOTHAIR CHARLES
Kg. of France Duke of
954-986 Lorraine
|
LOUIS V
Kg. of France
“The Good-for-Nothing”
986-987
]
[Illustration: 3. THE HOUSE OF CAPET
ROBERT
the Strong
Duke of the French
|
+-------+----------+
| |
ODO ROBERT
Count of Paris King of the
King of the West Franks
West Franks |
HUGH the Great
Count of Paris
|
HUGH CAPET
King of France 987-996
|
ROBERT II
996-1031
|
HENRY I
1031-1060
|
PHILIP I
1060-1108
|
LOUIS VI
1108-1137
|
LOUIS VII -- m (1) ELEANOR of Aquitaine = Henry II
1137-1180 (3) ADELA of Champagne of England
| Count of
PHILIP II “Augustus” Anjou
1180-1223
|
LOUIS VIII = BLANCHE of Castile
1223-1226 |
|
+---+--------------------+
| |
LOUIS IX CHARLES
(St. Louis) Count of Anjou & Provence
1226-1270 & King of Sicily
| (See Table VI--First
| House of Anjou in Naples)
PHILIP III “The Rash”
1270-1285
|
+-----------------------+
| |
PHILIP IV “le Bel” CHARLES = MARGARET
1285-1314 Count of Valois|of Sicily
| |
+----------+-----------+--+---------+ |
| | | | |
LOUIS X PHILIP V CHARLES IV ISABEL = EDWARD II |
1314-1316 1316-1322 1322-1328 | of England |
| |
EDWARD III |
of England PHILIP VI
of Valois
(See Table IV--The
House of Valois)
]
[Illustration: 4. THE HOUSE OF VALOIS
CHARLES
Count of Valois
|
PHILIP VI
1328-1350
|
JOHN “the Good”
1350-1364
|
+-----+---------------+------------+----------+
| | | | |
| | | | ISABEL = GIAN GALEAZZO
| LOUIS PHILIP “the Bold” | | Visconti
| Duke of Duke of Burgundy | |
| Anjou (See Table JEANNE = CHARLES |
| (See Table X—Dukes “the Bad” |
| VI—Second of Burgundy) of Navarre |
| House of |
| Anjou in Naples) |
| |
CHARLES V |
1364-1380 |
| |
+------------+--------------------------+ |
| | |
CHARLES VI LOUIS = VALENTINA
“The Mad” Duke of Orleans| Visconti
1380-1422 murdered 1407|
| |
+-------------+-----+ |
| | |
CHARLES VII CATHERINE = HENRY V CHARLES
1422-1461 | of England Duke of Orleans
| | |
LOUIS XI HENRY VI |
1461-1483 of England |
| |
CHARLES VIII LOUIS XII
1483-1498 1498-1515
]
[Illustration: 5. THE NORMAN RULERS OF SICILY
TANCRED DE HAUTEVILLE
|
+-------------+---+--------+
| | |
WILLIAM DE ROBERT GUISCARD ROBERT I
HAUTEVILLE Duke of Apulia Count of Sicily
1060-1085 |
|
ROGER II
King of Sicily & Naples
d.1154
|
+--------------+---------+--+
| | |
ROGER WILLIAM CONSTANCE = EMPEROR HENRY VI
Duke of Apulia “the Bad” |
| | |
TANCRED WILLIAM |
“the Good” |
d.1189 EMPEROR FREDERICK II
]
[Illustration: 6. THE FIRST HOUSE OF ANJOU IN NAPLES
LOUIS VIII of France
1223-1226
|
CHARLES
Count of Anjou & Provence
& King of Sicily and Naples (d.1285)
|
CHARLES II
d. 1309
|
+---------------+--+------------+-----------+
| | | |
CHARLES MARTEL ROBERT JOHN MARGARET = CHARLES
| King of of Durazzo of Valois
| Naples | [See Table IV for
| | | House of
| | | Valois & also
CAROBERT CHARLES | The Second House of
of Hungary of Calabria | Anjou in Naples]
| | |
+-----+---+ +----+---------+ +----------+
| | | | | |
LOUIS ANDREW = JOANNA I MARIA = CHARLES LOUIS
the d.1382 | d.1348 |
Great King | |
of Hungary | |
| | |
+------------+ | |
| | | |
SIGISMUND = MARIA HEDWIG = JAGELLO MARGARET = CHARLES III
of Luxembourg of | of Durazzo
Lithuania |
(King Ladislas +---+--------+
V of Poland) | |
LADISLAS JOANNA II
d.1414 d.1433
THE SECOND HOUSE OF ANJOU IN NAPLES
CHARLES = MARGARET
Count of | of Sicily
Valois |
|
PHILIP VI
1328-1350
|
JOHN “the Good”
1350-1364
|
+-------------------+
| |
CHARLES V LOUIS Duke of Anjou
1364-1380 d. 1385
|
LOUIS II
d. 1417
|
+---------------+-------------------++--------+
| | | |
LOUIS III RÉNÉ LE BON* CHARLES MARY = CHARLES VII
d. 1434 d.1480 Duke of | of France
| Maine |
| | |
YOLANDE = FREDERICK CHARLES LOUIS XI
| of d.1481 |
| Vaudemont |
| |
Réné I Duke of Lorraine CHARLES VIII
* Réné le Bon disinherited his grandson Réné Duke of Lorraine
and left his claims to Naples to his nephew Charles—with
remainder to the French Crown. In this way Charles VIII was
enabled to claim the Neapolitan throne.
]
[Illustration: 7. THE HOUSE OF ARAGON IN SPAIN & NAPLES
ALFONSO II
of Aragon
1162-1196
|
PEDRO II EMPEROR FREDERICK II
1196-1213 King of Naples
| |
JAMES I MANFRED
“the Conqueror” (illegitimate)
1213-1276 |
| |
PEDRO III = CONSTANCE
King of Aragon 1276-1285
King of Sicily 1282-1285
|
+---------------------+
| |
ALFONSO III JAMES II
1283-1291 1291-1327
|
ALFONSO IV
1327-1336
|
PEDRO IV
1336-1387
|
+---------------+-----------------+
| | |
JOHN I = ELEANOR JOHN I MARTIN I
of Castile 1387-1395 1395-1410
|
+---------------------------+
| |
HENRY III FERDINAND I
of Castile (chosen King of Aragon)
1412-1416
|
+-------------------------+-----+
| |
ALFONSO V JOHN II
of Aragon 1416-1458 of Aragon
of Naples 1435-1458 1458-1479
| |
FERRANTE I FERDINAND = ISABEL
King of Naples the Catholic of Castile
(illegitimate)
d. 1494
|
+----+-----------+
| |
ALFONSO II FADRIQUE
d. 1495 (deposed 1501)
|
FERDINAND II
d. 1296
]
[Illustration: 8. THE HOUSE OF CASTILE & LEON
SANCHO III
of Castile
|
+---------------+--------------+
| |
ALFONSO VIII “the Good” FERDINAND II
1158-1214 of Leon
| 1157-1188
+------------------+ |
| | |
LOUIS VIII = BLANCHE BERENGARIA = ALFONSO IX
of France | | 1188-1290
| |
St LOUIS FERDINAND III
King of Castile 1217-1252
King of Castile & Leon 1230-1252
|
+------------------------------+-----+
| |
ALFONSO X “the Learned” ELEANOR = EDWARD I
1252-1284 of England
|
SANCHO IV
1284-1295
|
FERDINAND IV
1295-1312
|
ALFONSO XI
1312-1350
|
+----+----------------------------+
| |
HENRY II PEDRO
(of Trastamara) “the Cruel”
1369-1379 1350-1369
| |
JOHN I = ELEANOR CONSTANCE = JOHN of Gaunt
1379-1390 | of Aragon
|
+-----+---------------------------+
HENRY III FERDINAND I
1390-1406 (elected King of Aragon)
| 1412-1416
| |
| +------------+
| | |
JOHN II JOHN II ALFONSO V
1406-1454 of Aragon of Aragon & Naples
| |
+-----------------------+ |
| | |
HENRY IV ISABEL = FERDINAND
1454-1474 of Castile of Aragon
1474-1504 1479-1516
]
[Illustration: 9. THE GUELFS & GHIBELLINES
EMPEROR HENRY III
(Salian Line)
|
WELF IV HENRY IV
| Emperor 1056-1106
| |
+-----------+-----+ +----+--------+
| | | |
WELF V HENRY HENRY V AGNES = FREDERICK
“the Black” Emperor 1106-1125 | of Hohenstaufen
| |
+--------------+--+ +-------------------+-----+
| | | |
HENRY JUDITH = FREDERICK CONRAD III
“the Proud” | of Suabia Emperor 1138-1152
| |
HENRY = MATILDA FREDERICK I
“the Lion” | of England “Barbarossa”
of Saxony | Emperor 1152-1190
| |
| +--------------------------------+
| | |
OTTO IV HENRY VI = CONSTANCE PHILIP
Emperor 1198-1218 Emperor | Heiress of Sicily of Suabia
1190-1197 | & Naples Emperor 1198-1208
|
FREDERICK II
Emperor 1215-1250
|
+---------------------+--+--------------+
| | |
HENRY CONRAD IV MANFRED
King of the Romans 1250-1254 |
| |
CONRADIN d. 1268 CONSTANCE = PETER III
of Aragon
]
[Illustration: 10. THE DUKES OF BURGUNDY & HOUSE OF HABSBURG
__HOUSE OF HABSBURG__
JOHN “the Good” RUDOLF I Emperor 1273-1291
King of France 1350-1364 |
| |
PHILIP “the Bold” = MARGARET ALBERT I
Duke of Burgundy Heiress of 1298-1308
d. 1404 Duchy of Brabant |
|
| +----------------+-----+-----+
| | | |
JOHN “the Fearless” RUDOLF LEOPOLD ALBERT
murdered 1419 King of Bohemia d. 1326 d. 1358
| d. 1307 |
+--------------+ |
| | |
JOHN = ANNE PHILIP “the Good” LEOPOLD d. 1386
Duke of d. 1467 |
Bedford | ERNEST d. 1424
| |
| +---------------+
| |
CHARLES “the Rash” FREDERICK III
d. 1477 King of the Romans
| 1440-1493
| |
MARY = The Emperor MAXIMILIAN I
Heiress of Burgundy 1493-1519
]
[Illustration: 11. THE HOUSE OF LUXEMBURG
The Emperor HENRY VI CAROBERT
1308-1313 King of Hungary
| |
JOHN |
King of Bohemia +-------+----+
| | |
The Emperor CHARLES IV LOUIS ANDREW = Joanna I
1347-1378 “the Great” of Naples
| |
+--------+--------------+ +-------+
| | | |
WENZEL SIGISMUND = MARY HEDWIG = JAGELLO
King of Bohemia 1378-1419 King of Hungary of Lithuania
Emperor 1378-1400 Emperor 1410-1437 (LADISLAS V
of Poland
1386-1433)
]
[Illustration: 12. THE PALEOLOGI
MICHAEL VIII
1260-1282
|
ANDRONICUS II
1282-
dethroned 1326, died 1332
|
MICHAEL IX
(Joint Emperor with his father)
died 1320
|
JOHN CANTACUZENOS ANDRONICUS III
1347-1354 1328-1341
| |
HELENA = JOHN V
1341-1391
|
MANÚEL II
1391-1425
|
+------------------+------------------+
| |
JOHN VI CONSTANTINE XI
1423-1448 1448-1453
]
FOOTNOTES
[1] See p. 41.
[2] See p. 43.
[3] See p. 62.
[4] See p. 48.
[5] See Genealogy, p. 377.
[6] See p. 85.
[7] See p. 16.
[8] See p. 95.
[9] See p. 103.
[10] See p. 120.
[11] See p. 115.
[12] See p. 77.
[13] See p. 45.
[14] See p. 143.
[15] See p. 131.
[16] See p. 122.
[17] See p. 152.
[18] See p. 154.
[19] See p. 169.
[20] See p. 115.
[21] See p. 49.
[22] See p. 164.
[23] See p. 199.
[24] See p. 194.
[25] See p. 195.
[26] See Genealogical Table, p. 378.
[27] See p. 55.
[28] The province of Dauphiné, formerly an imperial fief, was acquired
by the French crown in 1349, and became a regular ‘appanage’ of the
King’s eldest son, conferring on him the title of ‘Dauphin’, equivalent
to the English title ‘Prince of Wales’.
[29] See p. 223.
[30] See p. 53.
[31] See p. 62.
[32] See p. 215.
[33] See p. 195.
[34] See p. 229.
[35] See p. 229.
[36] See p. 247.
[37] See p. 342.
[38] See p. 229.
[39] See p. 252.
[40] See p. 151.
[41] See p. 179.
[42] See Genealogical Table, p. 379.
[43] See p. 184.
[44] See p. 230.
[45] See p. 294.
[46] See p. 232.
[47] See p. 294, and genealogy, p. 380.
[48] See p. 184.
[49] See p. 229.
[50] See p. 274.
[51] See p. 207.
[52] See Genealogical Table, p. 382.
INDEX
A
Aachen, 93, 99, 102, 188.
Abelard, Peter, 208, 209, 211, 347, 349, 354.
Abu Bakr, 68, 74.
Abu Talib, 67, 69, 70.
Adrianople, 38, 332.
Agincourt, 250.
Alaric, 40, 41, 45.
Albert I, 278, 279.
Albigenses, the, 213, 214, 216, 217, 266.
Alboin, 51.
Alcuin, 82, 97, 99.
Aldine Press, 350.
Alessandria, 179.
Alexander II, Pope, 137.
Alexander III, Pope, 179.
Alexander VI, Pope, 361.
Alexius Commenus, 143 et seq.
Alfonso V of Aragon, 315, 361.
Alfonso VIII of Castile, 265, 266.
Alfonso X of Castile, 267, 271.
Alfred the Great, 105, 106, 107, 131.
Almohades, the, 265, 266.
Alsace, 276, 281, 282.
Ambrose, St., 33, 42.
Amerigo Vespucci, 345.
Anagni, 231.
Andrew of Hungary, 293, 313.
Andronicus II, 330.
_Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_, 105, 113.
Anjou, Charles of, 229, 230, 312.
--, second House of, 314, 361.
Anno, Archbishop, 138.
Anselm, Archbishop, 142.
Antioch, 149.
Aquinas, Thomas, 209, 355.
Arcadius, the Emperor, 39.
Aristotle, 208, 210, 261, 355.
Arius, 30, 31.
Armagnac, 250, 251.
Arnold of Brescia, 211, 212, 326, 347.
Artevelde, Jacob van, 237, 239.
Assize of Clarendon, 163.
Athanaric, 39, 143.
Athaulf, 54.
Athelney, 106.
Athens, Duchy of, 329, 330.
Attila, 44, 45, 145.
Augustine, St., of Canterbury, 52.
Augustine, St., of Hippo, 42, 43, 97, 197, 208, 210, 349, 355.
Augustulus, the Emperor, 46, 363.
Augustus, the Emperor, 2, 4, 6, 9, 20, 98.
Averroës, 261.
Avignon, 232, 316, 317, 318, 321, 322, 323, 356.
B
Babylonish Captivity, 232, 316, 322.
Bacon, Roger, 207, 349.
Badr, battle of, 71.
Bagdad, 87, 146, 151.
Balearic Islands, 268.
Barcelona, 266, 268, 337.
Basil, St., 32.
Bavaria, Duchy of, 89, 91, 133.
Becket, Thomas, 160, 163-5, 202, 215.
Bedford, John, Duke of, 253, 257.
Belisarius, 50.
Benedict, St., 125.
Benedict IX, Pope, 135.
Benedictines, the, 126, 222.
Berengaria of Navarre, 156.
Bernard, King of Italy, 101.
Bernard, St., 126, 128, 129, 152, 153, 154, 209, 212, 214, 219, 347.
Black Death, the, 240, 241, 242.
Blanche of Castile, 217, 223.
Boccaccio, 241, 356.
Boethius, 48, 107.
Bohemia, 277, 317.
Bohemund, 145, 149.
Bologna, University of, 178, 201, 208.
Boniface, St., 88, 89, 98.
Boniface VIII, Pope, 230, 231, 311.
Bouvines, battle of, 169, 187.
Brandenburg, 131, 151.
Breisgau, 281.
Bretigni, Treaty of, 246.
Burgos, 264.
Burgundians, the, 55, 59.
Burgundy, Charles, Duke of, 280 et seq.
Burgundy, John, Duke of, 250, 252.
--, Philip, Duke of, 252, 256, 257.
C
Calais, 240, 248, 249, 257.
Canon Law, 202.
Canossa, 140, 141, 176, 183.
Cantacuzenos, John, 331.
Cape of Good Hope, 341.
Capet, Hugh, 109.
Capet, Odo, 109.
_Capitularies_, the, 96.
Carinthia, 277.
Carniola, 277.
Carthage, 45, 77, 228.
Carthusians, the, 127, 128.
Castile, 269, 270.
Catalan Company, the, 330.
Catherine, St., of Siena, 320 et seq.
Catherine of Valois, 251.
Caxton, William, 350.
Celestine V, Pope, 310.
Chalons, battle of, 44, 54.
_Chambre des Comptes_, 233.
_Chanson de Roland_, 80, 81, 82.
Charlemagne, 78 et seq., 101, 104, 107, 109, 142, 170, 200, 291, 349,
353.
Charles ‘Martel’, 62, 78, 88, 98.
Charles ‘the Bald’, 102, 103, 109.
Charles ‘the Fat’, 103.
Charles ‘the Simple’, 110.
Charles V of France, 245, 247, 248, 249.
Charles VI of France, 250.
Charles VII of France, 251, 252, 254, 256, 257, 258.
Charles VIII of France, 361, 362, 363.
Charles of Durazzo, 314.
Charles IV, the Emperor, 289, 293, 294 et seq., 324, 333, 346.
Chioggia, battle of, 306.
Chloderic, 58.
Chosroes, King, 73, 74.
Cid, the, 263 et seq.
Cimabue, 357.
Cistercians, the, 128, 215.
_Civitas Dei_, the, 43, 97, 222, 311.
Civitate, battle of, 115.
Clement V, Pope, 232.
Clement VII, Pope, 323.
_Clericis Laicos_, the Bull, 230.
Clermont, Council of, 147, 148.
Clovis, 57 et seq.
Cluni, 127, 133, 135.
Cnut, King, 108, 287.
Colonna, Stephen, 318.
Columbus, Christopher, 342 et seq., 349, 358, 360.
_Comitatus_, the, 16, 119.
Commines, Philip de, 280, 351, 362.
Commune, the French, 173, 284.
--, the Italian, 176, 177, 178, 180, 284.
Compostella, 265.
_Condottieri_, the, 301.
Conrad I, 131.
Conrad III, 152.
Conrad (son of Frederick II), 192.
Conradin, 194, 229, 269, 312.
_Conseil du Roi_, 233.
_Consolations of Philosophy_, the, 48, 107.
Constance of Naples, 181, 182, 183.
Constance, Perpetual Peace of, 180.
--, Council of, 324, 325, 326.
Constans II, Emperor, 75.
Constantine ‘the Great’, 27 et seq., 34 et seq.
Constantine ‘Pogonatus’, 75.
Constantine XI, 334 et seq.
Constantinople, 34 et seq., 40, 49, 74, 86, 87, 143, 306, 327, 328,
329, 335, 336, 338, 363.
--, Latin Empire of, 184, 329.
Constitutions of Clarendon, 164.
Cordova, Caliphate of, 260 et seq.
_Corpus Juris Civilis_, the, 49.
Cortenuova, battle of, 193.
Council of Ten, 304.
Courtrai, battle of, 234.
Creci, battle of, 239, 240.
Crema, 178, 179.
Crusade, the First, 147-50.
--, the Second, 129, 152, 158.
--, the Third, 154-8.
--, the Fourth, 184, 306.
--, the Seventh, 226-7.
--, the Children’s, 226.
_Curia_, the, 13, 14.
_Curia Regis_, the, 162.
_Curiales_, the, 13, 14, 19, 117.
Cyprus, 156, 226.
D
Dagobert, King, 60.
Danegeld, 108.
Danelaw, the, 106.
Dante, 294, 309 et seq., 356.
Danzig, 285, 292.
_Decameron_, the, 241.
_Decretum_, the, 202, 209.
Denmark, 108, 287.
Diaz, Bartholomew, 340.
Didier, King, 82-4.
_Divina Commedia_, 199, 311, 356.
Domesday Book, 113.
Dominic, St., 215, 216, 219.
Donation of Constantine, 85.
Du Guesclin, 247, 272.
Duns Scotus, 355.
E
Eccelin de Romano, 192.
Edessa, 150, 152.
Edward ‘the Confessor’, 111.
Edward ‘the Elder’, 106.
Edward I, 228, 230, 234, 235, 247.
Edward II, 236.
Edward III, 236, 237, 242, 246, 247, 317.
Edward ‘the Black Prince’, 242, 247, 248.
Eginhard, 90, 98.
Eleanor of Aquitaine, 152, 159, 166.
Epicurus, 22.
Erasmus, 351.
Ethelred, ‘the Rede-less’, 107, 108, 109, 111, 286.
F
Faust, Legend of, 350.
Ferdinand I of Aragon, 273.
Ferdinand II of Aragon, 274, 343, 345.
Ferrante of Naples, 361.
Feudalism, 117 et seq.
Flanders, 234, 237, 238, 250, 305, 345.
Florence, 290, 297, 302, 303, 307, 308 et seq., 348, 352, 360, 361.
Francis, St., of Assisi, 217 et seq., 357.
Franks, the, 55 et seq., 83.
Frederick I, ‘Barbarossa’, 154, 178 et seq., 191, 202, 296.
Frederick II, 183, 185, 186 et seq., 203, 210, 224, 226, 276, 296,
308, 315.
Friars, the, 216, 220, 221.
Froissart, 239, 243, 244.
G
Genoa, 145, 187, 284, 305, 306, 307, 329, 337, 338.
Genseric, 43, 45.
_Germania_, the, 15-17.
Gessler, 278, 279.
Ghibellines, the, 176, 178, 179, 193, 194, 206, 229, 294, 296.
Giotto, 357, 358.
Gloucester, Humphrey, Duke of, 253.
Godfrey de Bouillon, 149, 150.
Godwin, House of, 111.
Golden Bull, the, 295.
Goths, the, 31, 104.
Granada, 274.
Grand Council, Venetian, 304.
Granson, battle of, 282.
Gratian, 202.
Greenland, 105.
Gregory, St., 32.
Gregory, St., of Tours, 59.
Gregory I, ‘the Great’, Pope, 52, 53, 107.
Gregory VII, Pope (Hildebrand), 111, 115, 136 et seq., 147, 177, 183,
202, 229.
Gregory IX, Pope, 190, 191, 193, 216.
Gregory XI, Pope, 321, 322.
Grosstete, Bishop, 205.
Guadalete, battle of, 62, 259.
Guelfs, the, 176, 178, 179, 185, 193, 194, 206, 229, 296, 308.
Guienne, Duchy of, 225, 235, 236, 242, 246, 248, 258.
Guiscard, Robert, 116, 141, 145.
Guthrum, King, 106.
Gutenburg, John, 363, 350.
Guy de Lusignan, 153.
H
Hako, King, 206.
Hansa, the, 285 et seq., 348.
Harold ‘the Saxon’, 111, 144.
Haroun al-Raschid, 87, 146.
Hattin, battle of, 153.
Hauteville, House of, 115, 116.
Hawkwood, Sir John, 302, 321, 362.
Henry II of Castile, 247, 271, 272.
Henry IV of Castile, 273.
Henry I of England, 142, 160.
Henry II of England, 159 et seq., 181, 202, 215, 270.
Henry III of England, 204, 205, 221, 225.
Henry IV of England, 249.
Henry V of England, 249, 250, 251, 252.
Henry VI of England, 258.
Henry VII of England, 343.
Henry ‘the Fowler’, 120, 131, 132.
Henry III, the Emperor, 135, 137.
Henry IV, the Emperor, 138 et seq., 176, 177.
Henry VI, the Emperor, 156, 168, 181, 182, 183, 185, 191.
Henry VII, the Emperor, 294, 311, 312, 319.
Henry ‘the Lion’, 178, 179, 181.
Henry ‘the Navigator’, 339, 340.
Heraclius, the Emperor, 73, 75.
Hijrah, the, 69.
Hildebrand. _See_ Gregory VII.
Hohenstaufen, the, 176, 177, 183, 185, 188, 191, 192, 194, 269, 312,
317.
Holy Roman Empire, the, 134, 185, 194, 285.
Holy Roman Republic, the, 318, 320.
Honorius, the Emperor, 39, 40, 41, 54.
Honorius III, Pope, 189, 190.
Hospitallers. _See_ John, Knights of St.
Hundred Years’ War, 236 et seq., 287, 316, 324.
Hungarians, the, 132.
Huns, the, 37, 44, 104.
Huss, John, 324, 325, 326.
Hussite Wars, the, 326.
I
Iceland, 105.
Ingeborg, Queen, 170, 171, 184.
Innocent III, Pope, 168, 170, 171, 183 et seq., 187, 188, 214, 216,
221, 226, 265, 266, 317, 346.
Innocent IV, Pope, 193, 204, 205, 224, 317.
Interregnum, the Great, 229, 271, 284.
Investiture Question, the, 138 et seq.
Irene, the Empress, 86.
_Irminsul_, the, 88, 90.
Isabel I of Castile, 274, 343, 345.
Isabel, Queen of England, 236.
J
Jacquerie, the, 244.
Jagello of Lithuania. _See_ Ladislas V.
James ‘the Conqueror’, 266-8.
Janissaries, the, 332, 336.
Jeanne d’Arc, 253 et seq., 320.
Jerome, St., 33, 41, 208.
Jerusalem, 75, 114, 147, 150, 153, 157, 190.
--, Latin Kingdom of, 151, 153.
Joanna I of Naples, 293, 313, 314, 333.
Joanna II of Naples, 315.
John II of Castile, 273.
John V, the Emperor, 331, 335.
John II of France, 243.
John, King of England, 167, 168, 169, 170.
John I of Portugal, 339.
John Ducas, 327.
John Hunyadi, 336.
John, Knights of St., 150, 153, 232, 265.
John of Gaunt, 248, 249, 339.
Joinville, 226.
Julian, Count, 77.
Justinian I, 49 et seq., 178.
Justinian II, 76.
K
Ka’bah, the, 66, 67, 72.
Kalmar, Union of, 290.
Khubla Khan, 337.
Koran, the, 68.
Kossovo, battle of, 333, 334.
L
Ladislas of Naples, 315.
Ladislas V of Poland, 292.
Lateran Council, Fourth, 188.
Lazar of Serbia, 333.
Legnano, battle of, 179, 235, 296.
Leo ‘the Isaurian’, 77, 144.
Leo I, Pope, 45, 52.
Leo III, Pope, 85, 86, 97.
Leo IX, Pope, 115, 135, 136.
Leonardo da Vinci, 357 et seq.
Leopold, the Archduke, 156, 167.
Leopold, Duke, 279, 280.
_Lex Visigothorum_, the, 78.
Limoges, 255.
Lombard League, the, 179, 192, 193, 202.
Lombards, the, 50 et seq., 75, 82, 85.
Lothair, Count, 133.
Lothar, Emperor, 102, 103.
Lotharingia, 103, 133.
Louis ‘the German’, 103.
Louis ‘the Good for Nothing’, 109.
Louis ‘the Pious’, 101.
Louis III of Anjou, 315.
Louis VII of France, 152, 159, 165, 166.
Louis VIII of France, 217, 223, 250.
Louis IX of France, 172, 217, 223 et seq., 233, 312.
Louis XI of France, 258, 274, 281, 302, 361.
Louis XII of France, 300.
Louis ‘the Great’ (of Hungary,) 291, 293 et seq., 313, 314, 324, 332,
333.
Lübeck, 285, 286, 293.
Ludovico ‘Il Moro’, 351, 359, 360 et seq.
Luna, Alvaro de, 273.
M
Machiavelli, 308, 354, 362.
Madeira, 340.
Magna Charta, 158, 168.
_Magnum Concilium_, 162.
Mahomet, 66 et seq.
Mainz, 89.
Mandeville, Sir John, 338.
Maniaces, 115.
Marcel, Étienne, 245.
Margaret of Denmark, 290.
Martin V, Pope, 326.
Matthew Paris, 205.
Maxentius, Emperor, 27.
Mayfield, the, 83.
Mayor of the Palace, the, 56, 61.
Mecca, 67.
Medici, Cosimo de, 352, 353, 354.
Medici, Lorenzo de, 354, 356, 358, 360.
Medici, Piero de, 360, 361.
Medinah, 70.
Mercia, 106.
Merovingians, the, 55, 60, 62, 64, 95, 103, 109.
Milan, 297, 298 et seq., 303, 308, 315, 351, 352.
--, Edict of, 29.
_Minnesingers_, the, 200.
_Missi_, the, 95, 96, 97, 107, 121.
Mohammed II, 334, 336, 338.
Monasticism, 31, 123 et seq., 348.
Montereau, bridge of, 251.
Morat, battle of, 283.
Morgarten, battle of, 280.
Morkere, House of, 111.
Murcia, 267, 268.
N
Narses, 50, 51.
Nanci, battle of, 283.
Naples, 297, 303, 312 et seq., 352, 357, 361.
Navarette, battle of, 247.
Navarre, 266.
Navarre, ‘Charles the Bad’ of, 245.
Navas de Tolosa, battle of, 265.
Nero, Emperor, 9, 25.
Nicholas I, Pope, 144.
Nicholas II, Pope, 115, 136.
Nicholas V, Pope, 352.
Nineveh, battle of, 74.
Nogaret, 231.
Normandy, Duchy of, 108, 110, 169.
Northmen, the, 104 et seq., 109, 114.
Norway, 108.
O
Odo of Bayeux, 113, 149.
Odoacer, 46, 47.
Orkhan, Sultan, 331, 332.
Orleans, 256.
Ostrogoths, the, 46, 47.
Othman, Caliph, 75.
Otto I, the Great, 132 et seq., 142.
Otto IV, 169, 185, 186, 187, 188, 193.
Ottocar of Bohemia, 277, 278.
P
Paleologus, Michael, 306, 327, 328, 329, 330, 331.
Paris, 174, 201, 208.
--, University of, 257.
_Parlamento_, the, 309.
_Parlement de Paris_, 233.
Pavia, 82, 84, 85.
Pedro ‘the Cruel’, 247, 248, 271, 272.
Pedro II of Aragon, 266.
Pedro III of Aragon, 268, 269.
Pepin ‘the Short’, 63 et seq., 79, 86.
Perpetual League, the, 277.
Peter III of Aragon, 230.
Peter ‘the Hermit’, 147, 154.
Peter Lombard, 209, 211.
Petrarch, 356.
Philip II ‘Augustus’, 154, 156, 165, 168 et seq., 181, 184, 185, 197,
201, 217, 223, 224.
Philip III of France, 228.
Philip IV of France, 228, 230, 232 et seq., 236.
Philip V of France, 236.
Philip VI of France, 237, 239.
Philip II, the Emperor, 185, 186.
Pisa, 145, 290, 300, 337.
Pisani, 306.
Platonic Academy, the, 354, 356.
Poitiers, 62, 243.
Poland, 291.
Polo, Marco, 337, 338.
Portugal, 266, 339, 343.
Praetorian Guard, the, 18.
Praguerie, the, 258.
Provence, 268, 314, 316, 317.
R
Ravenna, 93, 95, 312.
Ravenna, Exarchate of, 51, 53, 64, 75, 115, 144.
Raymond VI, 213, 215.
Raymond VII, 217.
Remi, St., 57.
Renaissance, the, 346 et seq.
Rhodes, 232.
Richard I, 154-8, 167.
Richard II, 238, 249.
Rienzi, Cola di, 318, 320, 356.
Robert of Naples, 312, 357.
Robert of Normandy, 114, 149.
Roderic, King, 62, 259.
Roger II, 116.
Roger de Flor, 330.
Rollo of Normandy, 110.
Rome, 41, 46, 290, 303, 316 et seq., 352.
Roncesvalles, 81.
Rudolf I, 229, 276, 277, 295.
S
Sacred Months, the, 66, 123.
Saladin, 153 et seq.
Salic Law, the, 56, 96, 236.
Salisbury, Gemot of, 121.
San Germano, Treaty of, 191.
_Santa Hermandad_, 274.
Santiago, Order of, 265.
Saxons, the, 88 et seq., 130.
Scala, Mastino della, 307.
Schism, the Great, 323.
Scholasticism, 209, 355.
Scutage, 162.
Senlac, battle of, 112.
_Sententiae_, the, 209.
Serbia, 293, 332, 333, 334.
Sforza, Francesco, 351.
Sforza, Galeazzo Maria, 351.
Sforza, Gian Galeazzo, 361.
Sicilian Vespers, the, 229, 269, 330.
Siena, 320.
_Siete Partidas_, the, 271.
Sigismund, the Emperor, 294, 324 et seq.
Sigismund of the Tyrol, 281.
Simon de Montfort, 215, 266.
‘Sluggard Kings’, the, 60.
Sluys, battle of, 238.
Spoletum, Duchy of, 83.
Stamford Bridge, battle of, 111.
‘Staple’ Towns, 237.
States-General, 233.
Stephen II, Pope, 64.
Stephen Dushan, 332.
Stephen of England, 122, 160.
Stilicho, 39, 40.
Stralsund, Treaty of, 289.
Strasbourg, the Oath of, 103, 130.
Styria, 277.
_Summa Theologiae_, the, 210.
Sutri, Synod of, 135.
Swiss Cantons, the, 277, 279, 282 et seq., 296.
T
Tacitus, 4, 15, 17, 25, 54, 119.
Tancred of Sicily, 156, 182.
Tannenberg, battle of, 292.
Tell, William, 279.
Templars, the, 151, 153, 190, 232, 265.
Teutonic Knights, 151, 291 et seq.
Theodora, the Empress, 49.
Theodoric, King, 47, 48.
Theodosius, the Emperor, 33, 39.
Thorn, Treaty of, 292.
Titus, the Emperor, 11, 46.
Toulouse, Counts of, 199, 212.
Trajan, the Emperor, 25.
Troubadours, the, 200.
Troyes, Treaty of, 252.
Truce of God, 123.
Tunis, 227.
Turks, the, 146 et seq., 331 et seq., 338.
U
Urban II, Pope, 145, 147.
Urban VI, Pope, 322.
V
Valdemar III, 287, 288, 289.
Valencia, 261, 264.
Valens, the Emperor, 37, 38.
Valentian, the Emperor, 37.
Vandals, the, 43, 50, 77, 104.
Vasco da Gama, 341, 342, 344, 363.
Venice, 45, 95, 145, 158, 284, 290, 293, 297, 300, 303 et seq., 329,
337, 338, 350, 352.
Verdun, the Partition of, 103.
Vespasian, the Emperor, 9.
Visconti, Bernabò, 299.
Visconti, Filippo Maria, 302, 308, 315, 351.
Visconti, Gian Galeazzo, 299, 300, 302.
Visconti, Valentina, 300.
Visigoths, the, 37, 40, 41, 54, 59, 77.
W
Waldensians, the, 213, 214, 219.
Wedmore, Treaty of, 106.
Wenzel, Emperor, 324.
Wessex, 105, 106.
William I of England, 111, 112 et seq., 121, 137.
William II of England, 114.
Wisby, 288.
Witikind, 90.
Worms, Concordat of, 142.
Wycliffe, 317, 324.
X
Ximenez, Rodrigo, 266.
Y
Yermuk, battle of, 75.
Z
Zeno, Emperor, 47.
Zeno, philosopher, 22.
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AT THE OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
Transcriber’s Notes
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a
predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not
changed.
Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced
quotation marks retained.
Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.
The Sidenotes in this eBook originally were page headers. Some of them
may be a paragraph or two away from their ideal placement, and in some
versions of this eBook are left-justified on lines of their own.
Ditto marks have been replaced by the actual text.
Bottom-of-page footnotes have been moved to the end of the text, just
before the Index.
Index not checked for proper alphabetization or correct page references.
Page 105: “To wake war” was printed that way.
Page 140: “In the winter of 1066” should be 1077, as shown correctly on
page 371 of the Chronological Summary.
Page 156: “bethrothed” was printed that way.
Page 383: “The House of Habsburg” was underlined, not italicized.
End of Project Gutenberg's Europe in the Middle Ages, by Ierne Lifford Plunket