when it was requisite to protect the burgher in his commerce, this
source of life to all the cities. Formerly, it is true, the German
merchants had appeared in the foreign markets as "the men of the
emperor," but now the emperors had no longer might wherewith to back
their right, and more efficient protection was called for. This each
found in his own city. Hundreds and thousands of treaties and letters of
freedom attest to the fact that the towns recognized their duties
towards their citizens and practised them most strenuously. Sometimes
these were written out in the name of a princeling, whose signature it
was always possible to buy for hard cash; but as time went on the towns
gradually took an entirely independent stand, so that from France to the
Russian districts of Smolensk the whole continent was overspread with a
network of diplomatic and commercial contracts eagerly supported and
extended by the towns.
The first thing sought for from the territorial lords, was protection
for person and property from the gang of banditti who dwelt in every
castle under the leadership of some titled robber; then protection
against the cruel rights of wreckage and salvage, which declared all
such goods the property of the territorial lord; further, release from
imprisonment for debts and other misdemeanours incurred within the
jurisdiction of the city and to be dealt with by itself alone;
assistance in obtaining payment of foreign debts; freedom from the
so-called "judgments of God" in the form of torture, walking on red-hot
irons, &c.; regulation and diminution of local taxes and tolls on the
lading or unlading of vessels, the weighing of merchandise; permission
to fell wood to repair ships; in a word, one and all of the necessary
permits to render more easy and profitable the intercourse between towns
and nations.
[Illustration: GERMAN TRADE LIFE.]
In each foreign country the Hanseatics had always their permanent
settlement, known as the _Kontor_, and for these they had early obtained
a species of autonomy that permitted them to exercise jurisdiction
according to their native laws over their own country people. Defaulters
were judged by Hanseatic rules, and the "common merchant" found a help
and support against the foreigners among whom he for the moment resided
and with whom he traded.
The shrewd towns knew well how to estimate the value of such foreign
settlements, and it is noteworthy that they never accorded reciprocal
rights. In vain foreigners pleaded permission to found similar
settlements in the Hansa's dominions; the towns always skilfully
declined such requests. Thus in Cologne foreign merchants were not
allowed to reside longer than six weeks at a stretch, and this only
three times in the year; therefore only eighteen weeks in all. Similar
and even more restrictive regulations prevailed in the other cities.
It is curious to note that, until the end of the thirteenth century, it
was chiefly the inland towns who were the great traders, but when they
needed for their trade the highway of the ocean, gradually the maritime
ports had taken the place of importance. One of the chief lines of sea
traffic was that between Bruges in Flanders and Northern Russia. On this
route hundreds of ships sailed annually, all owned by the "Easterlings,"
as the Baltic merchants were called to distinguish them from the inland
traders. It was not until the fifteenth century that we find Dutchmen,
Zealanders, and Frisians striving to come into serious competition with
the Hansa.
A decree that no German merchant might go into partnership with a
Russian, Fleming, or Englishman, no doubt aided greatly this exclusive
possession of the Baltic Sea. In Russia waterways led them as far as
Smolensk; and, later on, they penetrated even further inland, by
utilizing the roads that had been made by the German knights whose seat
of might was Pomerania and Livonia. The Marienburg, the chief house of
the Order, proved a welcome halting station for the merchant travellers,
where they found safety and shelter. Furs were largely obtained from the
inner districts of Russia. "They are plentiful as dung there," writes
the pious chronicler, Adam of Bremen; adding, "for our damnation, as I
believe, for _per fas et nefas_ we strive as hard to come into the
possession of a marten skin as if it were everlasting salvation."
According to him, it was from this cause and from Russia "that the
deadly sin of luxurious pride" had overspread the West.
[Illustration: RENSLAU GATE.]
Wax, that played so large a part in mediaeval religious rites, and was
required in great abundance, was furnished by the "honey-trees" of the
virgin Russian forests. Leather, skins, tallow, and all species of fat,
were also among the chief products of Russia and the exports of the
Hansa. In return, they imported into that empire the produce of the
looms of Germany, England, and Flanders, the fine Flemish cloths, the
coarser English and German. Silk, too, and linen were valued goods.
Important also were all manner of worked metal objects, and such wares
as town industries manufacture. Beer, too, was a valued and most
profitable article of commerce. This drink was brewed in superior
excellence in Northern Germany, the hops being grown on the spot.
Contemporary writers tell how outside all the northern cities hop
gardens flourished. This beer was never wanting at any carouse in the
whole stretch of land from Flanders to Finland; a heavy, heady beverage,
which would now be deemed unpalatable and indigestible. Some specimens
are preserved to this day in the Danzig _Topenbier_ and the Brunswick
_Mumme_. To this thirst for ale Hamburg largely owes its prosperity. For
many long years it was the greatest beer-making town of the North,
boasting in the fourteenth century no less than five hundred breweries.
From Sweden the Hanseatics fetched copper and iron; in many cases they
had acquired the sole possession of the mines. Scandinavia also
furnished skins, as well as the various forest products of wood, potash,
pitch, and tar. From Blekingen, as at this day, the merchants brought
granite, and from Gothland and Bornholm limestone, both stones being
required for those building purposes for which the native material of
brick did not suffice. Already the Baltic supplied the Netherlands with
grain.
The Hansa carried in return to Sweden, Finland, and Russia the
requirements of daily life, since these countries possessed neither
manufactures nor skilled labour. Down to the altar shrines and the
psalters of the Church the merchants brought the evidences of civilized
workmanship to these lands. The very furs they had taken thence were
returned to their northern homes; of course manipulated and worked up.
Even the English, more advanced in handicraft, submitted to the same
_regime_. It used to be said on the European continent in those days:
"We buy the fox skins from the English for a groat, and re-sell them the
foxes tails for a guilder." With England indeed the Hansa's intercourse
was most active, as we shall show more in detail later on.
[Illustration: CROSSBOW.]
Danzig owes almost all its splendour to the English trade. This city
dealt largely in Austrian and Hungarian products, which were distributed
from out its harbour. English crossbowmen received all the wood for
their bows from Austria by way of Danzig. They were made from the yew
tree, which was considered especially adapted to this end.
What the German merchant obtained as produce from Russia, Scandinavia,
and other parts of Europe, not to mention the special productions of his
own towns, he distributed either at home or in the world-famed markets
of Bruges and London, for the Hansa was then the only intermediary
between East and West. For more than three hundred years Bruges
maintained its place as the central market for the whole of Europe this
side the Alps. Here could be met traders from all parts; the Lombard
bankers and money-changers, the Florentine, Spanish, Portuguese, French,
Basque, English, Scotch, North and South Germans. It was from Bruges
that the Baltic merchant supplied his home and Northern Germany with the
products of the East, which the South German had brought from Venice and
over the Alpine passes along the Rhine. In Bruges he could buy the
fruits of the Mediterranean, the silks of Florence, the oils of
Provence, the wines of Spain and Italy. These meetings of merchants were
wont to take place at stated times, intercourse being thus made surer
and easier. This custom laid the foundation for those annual fairs for
the exchange of wares, of which one yet survives in Germany in little
diminished importance, namely, the great fair of Leipzig, where all the
German publishers meet to exchange the intellectual productions of the
year.
Another source of wealth to the cities arose from the circumstance that
they not only supplied the requirements of the mass, but were also the
purveyors to the princes and the aristocracy. We find in their books
that these frequently owed them heavy sums for furs, Flanders cloth, and
choice wines. They were also most often their bankers, for the towns
and, above all, Luebeck, the centre of cash transactions, were held
desirable places for money investments. Even in the distant districts of
Sweden people knew no better mode of investing capital than to confide
it to Luebeck merchants.
Of course the conditions of trade were vastly different from those of
to-day. Above all, the merchant had to act more in person. Posts did not
exist, orders and contracts, therefore, could rarely be made by letter,
for it mostly required a special messenger to carry these. It was hence
almost the rule that the merchant accompanied his wares "over sea and
sand," as the phrase went. For the sake of greater security, and in
order also to diminish expenses, many would club together to charter a
ship. It was usual to interest the captains in the sales of the wares,
it being held advisable that every one on board should have an advantage
in bringing the goods safe to land and in their profitable disposal.
This custom arose from the dangers that lurked from robbers, while
insurance of goods in transit was yet unknown. By interesting captain
and crew pecuniarily they were less likely to throw the goods overboard
in a storm, or to allow pirates quietly to board and rob the vessels;
both matters of common occurrence.
If it was dangerous to travel by water, it was yet far worse to travel
by land. Not to mention that there were few roads, that the mud often
lay piled wheel high, so that the strongest horses could not pull the
carts; the presence of robbers was a constant cause of fear on the road.
Many of these were, as we know, the lordlings of the land in disguise,
and hence they naturally turned a deaf ear to the repeated petitions of
the merchants to keep the highways in better order. Added to this, each
lord had the right to demand toll for the passing of his dominions and
the toll stations were often very close together. Thus, for example,
within a space of fifteen miles from Hamburg the merchant encountered no
less than nine. Fortunately the tables of tolls in those days were not
too complicated. They were generally paid by waggon, or ship load,
regardless of contents.
The Middle Ages were ignorant of protective taxes. These impediments to
the useful exchange of international produce were reserved for the
invention and practice of our more enlightened centuries. It is
characteristic that the oath which played so great a part in all
mediaeval transactions, social and political, was also employed to settle
the toll dues of the traveller. A crucifix was held before him; on this
he swore that he was not defrauding, that the weight of his wares, as
stated by him, was accurate, and herewith the transaction was completed.
It was, however, necessary to be most careful not to diverge from the
toll roads. If a merchant was found on a bye-road his goods were
confiscated and he himself imprisoned. On this account, too,
companionship was sought after, the leadership of some one familiar
with the ground, and hence merchants and merchandize generally moved in
caravans.
It is worthy of note that all the trade of that time was strictly
legitimate, and what is known as real merchant's business. Speculation
hardly existed. Commission and agency dues were not wholly unknown, but
happily there was not existent that pernicious scourge of modern trade,
the time bargains, which permit merchandize to be sold a dozen times
over before it actually exists. It was honest, true trade, which only
sold what it could show. Therefore, it could uphold and practise the
axiom, "ware for ware, or for cash." In certain districts, for example
Russia, barter was more common than money payments. Credit was
absolutely forbidden in certain towns and in certain branches of trade.
If credit was allowed the borrower had to find a surety, and to go
surety was a grave matter, of which the consequences might easily prove
disastrous, entailing loss of property and often of personal freedom.
Payments were usually made in coined money, but bar silver was also
employed, especially in Russia, and bills of exchange were not quite
unknown. The bills were payable as a rule either at Luebeck or Bruges.
Silver was the chief currency, but in the fourteenth century Luebeck was
permitted to coin gold. It made guilders after the pattern of the
Florentine ducats. The gold to coin them with was bought at Bruges. We
must remember that money had a far higher value in those days than in
ours, and that if we want to arrive at a just comparison with our own
times, we must multiply the sums by seventy or seventy-five. The most
common form of reckoning was the Flemish, _i.e._, one pound, equal to
twenty shillings at twelve groats each; in a word, exactly the reckoning
that has survived in England to this day. The pound of money was
originally a weight. The best money was that of Luebeck, and, above all,
the English contracted to be paid in pounds of the "Easterlings," their
generic name for the Baltic merchant. As a survival and abbreviation of
this phrase we in England say pound sterling to this day. A bad light
upon the morality and conditions of the period is thrown by the fact
that the petty kings, seeing that their coins were often refused and
mistrusted, did not hesitate to coin and give currency to false money
bearing the imprint of the League. We come across frequent bitter and
often useless complaints on this subject.
Putting out capital at interest was not wholly unknown in those days,
notwithstanding the prohibitions of the Church which, founded on the
text in St. Luke vi. 54, and the Fourteenth Psalm ("qui pecuniam non
debet ad usuram"), forbade all usury business. The Jews early held this
branch of trade in their hands. Rates of interest varied from 6 to 10
per cent. Loans, too, were made to princes, foreign and native, and to
cities, upon industrial enterprises. Wholly erroneous is the notion that
capital was inactive, kept in a strong box or an old stocking. That
great riches were accumulated is proved by some of the old wills and
account books. Fortunes of a quarter of a million were not unknown. A
single merchant would often own not only many farms in different and
distant parts of the country, but whole villages and townships. As for
the men themselves, we encounter them in every part of the continent,
the artisan as well as the merchant. Thus, for example, Germans seem the
favourite shoemakers; we hear of them in this capacity as far off as
Lisbon. Then, as now, they were renowned as bakers, and no one knew
better how to salt and preserve herrings and cod-fish.
In Livonia, Esthonia, Gothland, rich merchants died whose nearest heirs
had to be sought in far off Westphalia. For instance: A worthy shoemaker
became burgher of Luebeck; then visited Rome and San Jago di Compostella
as a pilgrim, and afterwards being named shoemaker to the German
knights, had as his chief debtor for goods supplied a cavalier who
fought in Sweden. Thus diverse, many-coloured, and full of adventure
were lives in those times, which we are too often tempted to think
sleepy and stay-at-home.
It is difficult to gain an idea of the full extent and nature of
mediaeval trade, but this too was far more rich and varied than we
suppose. Though there was no activity outside Europe, still it can well
stand beside our modern commerce, and as regards honesty, thoroughness
of produce and workmanship, it unhappily far eclipses it. Certainly the
list of articles imported and exported in their variety of needful and
needless objects, their luxury and magnificence, goes far to disprove
our notions of the greater simplicity of life in the Middle Ages. For
supply means demand, and meant this yet more emphatically with our
practical forefathers.
Apart from the evidences of figures and statistics, the evidences of
wealth and luxury can also be found in the yet extant monuments of the
time, and, above all, in the churches. In the Middle Ages the one
converging point of ideal life was the Church. Everything that went
beyond the immediate practical needs of daily existence, every form of
charity, every endeavour after culture, every striving of artistic and
scientific activity had in those days a religious foundation.
Imagination, too, came to the aid of this tendency in the shape of the
possible and probable dangers encountered by "sea and sand," by the town
traders. Thus in 1401 we find merchants and shippers at Luebeck founding
"an eternal brotherhood and guild to the honour of God, of Mary His
beloved mother, and all the saints; above all, the holy true helper in
need, St. Nicholas, that they may aid and comfort the living and the
dead, and all those who seek their rightful livelihood on the water,
many of whom, alas! perish in water troubles, are thrown overboard or
expire in other ways, dying unconfessed and without repentance; for on
account of their agonies they could feel neither remorse nor penitence
for their sins, and who have none who pray for them except the general
prayers."
Such guilds were by no means rare. Legacies, too, were left for similar
ends, by which thousands of our money were willed away: churches,
monasteries, and holy foundations of all kinds raised or aided to pray
for the benefit of the souls of the dead.
Nor were distant pilgrimages unknown. The merchant would go in person,
combining business and religion on the road, or he would send a
substitute, who for a certain sum would visit Rome, the Holy Land, San
Jago in Spain, or Rocamadour in Guyenne. Such pilgrims by profession
were frequent. St. Peter, St. James, after them St. John, then St.
Nicholas and St. Clement as patron saints of merchants, shippers and
fishermen, and among the women saints St. Catherine, were the chosen
objects of North German piety. In no town was lacking a leper house, a
refuge for those troubled with that plague of the Middle Ages, happily
now almost unknown in Europe. These were dedicated to the Holy Ghost and
to St. George, the slayer of dragons.
Above all, worship was paid to the Virgin Mary. All the municipal
churches were dedicated to her. There is not a town that has not its
church of "Our Lady." The municipal council were put under her especial
protection. To this day the so-called Beautiful Door of the Mary Church
at Danzig bears the inscription in golden letters: "Queen of Heaven,
pray for us!"
[Illustration: HOHE-THOR, DANZIG.]
These churches and religious buildings of all kinds, many of which
survive to this day amid surroundings to which they have grown strange,
speak more eloquently of the Hansa's might than piles of old parchment
records. All Scandinavia can show nothing to compare with these
architectural monuments, and we can well comprehend that the Northman
entering the Elbe, the Trave, or other Baltic rivers, and seeing the
lighthouses, churches, and mighty buildings of the towns, were awed by
the Germans' wealth and power and strength, much as we are impressed
now-a-days when we first set eyes upon Eternal Rome. These buildings
resembled each other in externals; in each we find the same tall
graceful steeples rising into the heavens, the same proud, defiant
battlements and turrets, the same high-gabled many storeyed,
small-windowed houses, the same tendency to employ bricks as building
materials, and to use coloured varieties as ornamentation. Of this
method of building and decoration the Holstenthor of Luebeck is a
well-preserved example, as indeed these double gates to the towns were
also a characteristic feature. One, a round tower, resembling greatly
the Castel St. Angelo of Rome, situated on the south side of Rostock,
was so strongly built that even the mechanical contrivances of our days
found it hard work to demolish it when modern progress required its
removal.
Art was then almost exclusively the handmaiden of religion, and hence it
is also in the churches we have to seek evidences of what the Hansa
could produce in this respect. Metal gravestones, rich bindings, cunning
iron work, attest its taste. Evidence of a love of painting is found in
many works now preserved in museums of the pre-Holbein day. And,
incredible though it may seem, they were so famous for glass painting
that early in the fifteenth century men came from Italy to Luebeck to
learn perfection in the craft.
[Illustration: HOLSTENTHOR, LUEBECK.]
Of their domestic architecture little, unhappily, remains to us, the
practice of building with wood having wrecked most of the cities. Such
houses as survive, however, testify to the national love of cunning
carvings and inscriptions of didactic purpose. For it is the keynote of
that time to express in artistic form its ardent faith and activity,
and its somewhat rough-and-ready philosophy. Theorizings and
abstractions were little understood. Thus in old legal codes we see the
punishments to be inflicted pictorially portrayed. Contempt and mocking
also took tangible form, and the clergy were by no means exempted from
such satire. Notwithstanding all the piety of the age, the people were
ever on their guard against the encroachments of the wily priests. The
deeds of Reynard the Fox--that favourite national comic epic, so wholly
in keeping with the Hansa spirit of practical good sense and business
cunning--was a favourite theme for weaving into arras and carpet; and it
was common to give a distinct hit at the clergy in the person of the sly
beast.
It was the custom to depict the Last Judgment in the court of justice of
each guildhall. That painted in 1341 for Hamburg led to a long lawsuit
before the Papal Court at Avignon, because the local dean and chapter
saw in it personal allusions. Thus devoutness did not impede the
townspeople from rigidly retaining their mental independence of view and
action.
Science and literature--such as those ages could boast--were, like art,
more or less pressed into the service of the Church. The only exception
is to be found in the few popular folk-tales, all comic, like the deeds
of Eulenspiegel, and in the town chroniclers who were in the pay of the
municipal council; but activity was not great in this latter domain. In
most cities, schools were attached to all the parishes, in which the
children of the wealthy classes learned reading, writing, some
arithmetic, singing, and a little Latin. These institutions were
founded in defiance of the priests, who loved to keep the people in the
darkness and enslavement of ignorance.
Nearly all the merchants and many artizans could read and write, even if
they did not practise these arts with great facility. Business letters
were indited either in Latin or German, for the latter tongue was more
widely diffused for commercial purposes than in our day.