_This is Volume VI of a complete set of_ The Great Events by Famous
Historians.
_Issued Strictly as a Limited Edition. In Volume I of this Set will be
found the Official Certificate, under the Seal of the National Alumni,
as to the Limitation of the Edition, the Registered Number, and the
Name of the Owner._
BINDING - Vol. VI
The binding of this volume is a facsimile of the original on
exhibition in the Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris.
It was executed by Geoffroy Tory, and presented by him to King Francis
I.
The broken vase so cleverly worked into the tooled design was the
device of Tory, which, as explained in his book, _Champfleury_,
represents our frail body--a vessel of clay.
Tory was professor of philosophy and literature in several colleges.
In 1518 he set up a printing-press, from whence he brought out
beautiful editions of the Greek and Latin authors, translated and
annotated by himself. In 1530 he was appointed Printer to King Francis
I.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Tragic death of Archbishop Thomas A. Becket at the
alter of the Cathedral of Canterbury Painting by A. Dawant.]
THE GREAT EVENTS
BY
FAMOUS HISTORIANS
A COMPREHENSIVE AND READABLE ACCOUNT OF THE WORLD'S HISTORY,
EMPHASIZING THE MORE IMPORTANT EVENTS, AND PRESENTING THESE AS
COMPLETE NARRATIVES IN THE MASTER-WORDS OF THE MOST EMINENT HISTORIANS
NON-SECTARIAN
NON-PARTISAN
NON-SECTIONAL
ON THE PLAN EVOLVED FROM A CONSENSUS OF OPINIONS GATHERED FROM THE
MOST DISTINGUISHED SCHOLARS OF AMERICA AND EUROPE, INCLUDING BRIEF
INTRODUCTIONS BY SPECIALISTS TO CONNECT AND EXPLAIN THE CELEBRATED
NARRATIVES, ARRANGED CHRONOLOGICALLY, WITH THOROUGH INDICES,
BIBLIOGRAPHIES, CHRONOLOGIES, AND COURSES OF READING.
SUPERVISING EDITOR
ROSSITER JOHNSON, LL.D.
LITERARY EDITORS
CHARLES F. HORNE, Ph.D.
JOHN RUDD, LL.D.
DIRECTING EDITOR
WALTER F. AUSTIN, LL.M.
_With a staff of specialists
VOLUME VI_
The National Alumni
CONTENTS
VOLUME VI
PAGE
_An Outline Narrative of the Great Events_,
CHARLES F. HORNE xiii
_Archiepiscopate of Thomas Becket_
_His Defence of Ecclesiastical Jurisdiction_
_His Assassination (A.D. 1162-1170)_,
JOHN LINGARD 1
_The Peace of Constance Secures the Liberties of
the Lombard Cities (A.D. 1183)_,
ERNEST F. HENDERSON 28
_Saladin Takes Jerusalem from the Christians
(A.D. 1187_),
SIR GEORGE W. COX 41
_The Third Crusade (A.D. 1189-1194)_,
HENRY VON SYBEL 54
_The Teutonic Knights_
_Their Organization and History (A.D. 1190-1809)_,
F.C. WOODHOUSE 68
_Philip of France Wins the French Domains of the
English Kings (A.D. 1202-1204)_,
KATE NORGATE 86
_Founding of the Mongol Empire by Genghis Khan
(A.D. 1203),
HENRY H. HOWORTH 103
_Venetians and Crusaders Take Constantinople_
_Plunder of the Sacred Relics (A.D. 1204),
EDWIN PEARS 121
_Latin Empire of the East_
_Its Foundation and Fall (A.D. 1204-1261)_,
W.J. BRODRIBB
SIR WALTER BESANT 140
_Innocent III Exalts the Papal Power (A.D. 1208)_,
T.F. TOUT 156
_Signing of Magna Charta (A.D. 1215)_,
DAVID HUME 175
_The Golden Bull, "Hungary's Magna Charta," Signed
(A.D. 1222)_,
E.O.S., 191
_Russia Conquered by the Tartar Hordes_
_Alexander Nevski Saves the Remnant of His People
(A.D. 1224-1262)_,
ALFRED RAMBAUD 196
_The Sixth Crusade_
_Treaty of Frederick II with the Saracens
(A.D. 1228)_,
SIR GEORGE W. COX 208
_Rise of the Hanseatic League (A.D. 1241)_,
H. DENICKE 214
_Mamelukes Usurp Power in Egypt (A.D. 1250)_,
SIR WILLIAM MUIR 240
_The "Mad Parliament"_
_Beginning of England's House of Commons
(A.D. 1258)_,
JOHN LINGARD 246
_Louis IX Leads the Last Crusade (A.D. 1270)_,
JOSEPH FRANÇOIS MICHAUD 275
_Height of the Mongol Power in China (A.D. 1271)_,
MARCO POLO 287
_Founding of the House of Hapsburg (A.D. 1273)_,
WILLIAM COXE 298
_Edward I Conquers Wales (A.D. 1277)_,
CHARLES H. PEARSON 316
_Japanese Repel the Tartars (A.D. 1281)_,
EDWARD H. PARKER
MARCO POLO 327
_The Sicilian Vespers (A.D. 1282)_,
MICHELE AMARI 340
_Expulsion of Jews from England (A.D. 1290)_,
HENRY HART MILMAN 356
_Exploits and Death of William Wallace, the "Hero of
Scotland" (A.D. 1297-1305)_,
SIR WALTER SCOTT 369
_First Great Jubilee of the Roman Catholic Church
(A.D. 1300)_,
FERDINAND GREGOROVIUS 378
_Universal Chronology (A.D. 1162-1300)_,
JOHN RUDD 385
ILLUSTRATIONS
VOLUME VI
_Tragic death of Thomas A Becket at the altar of the
Cathedral of Canterbury (page 26),_
Painting by Albert Dawant. Frontispiece
_The lust of the army spared neither maiden nor the
virgin dedicated to God_, Painting by E. Luminais. 128
_King Edward I fulfils his promise of giving the
Welsh "a native prince; one who could not speak
a word of English"_, Painting by Ph. Morris. 324
AN OUTLINE NARRATIVE
TRACING BRIEFLY THE CAUSES, CONNECTIONS, AND CONSEQUENCES OF GREAT
EVENTS (FROM BARBAROSSA TO DANTE)
CHARLES F. HORNE
It was during the period of about one hundred fifty years, extending
from the middle of the twelfth to the close of the thirteenth century,
that the features of our modern civilization began to assume a
recognizable form. The age was characterized by the decline of
feudalism, and by the growth of all the new influences which combined
to create a new state of society.
With the decay of the great lords came the rise of the great cities,
the increased power and importance of the middle classes, the burghers
or "citizens," who dominate the world to-day. In opposition to these
there came also an unforeseen accession of strength to kings. The
boundaries of modern states grew more clearly defined; modern
nationalities were distinctly established; Europe assumed something of
the outline, something of the social character, which she still
retains.
The period includes not only the culmination and close of the
crusading fervor, but also, coincident with this, the culmination of
both the religious and the temporal powers of the popes, and the
scarce recognized beginning of their decline. Universities, vaguely
existent before, now increase rapidly in numbers and importance,
receive definite outlines and foundations, and exert a mighty
influence. In fact it has been not inaptly said that the rule of
mediæval Europe was divided amid three powers--the emperor, the pope,
and the University of Paris. Books, from which we can trace the
history of the time, become as numerous as before they had been scant
and vague and misleading. Thought reveals itself struggling everywhere
for expression, displayed at times in the sunshine of song and rhyme
and merry laughter, at times in the storms of philosophic dispute and
religious persecution.
In short, this was an age of strife between old ways and new. It saw
the granting of Magna Charta, but it saw also the establishment of the
Inquisition, and the creation of the two great monastic orders, whose
opposing methods, the Dominicans ruling by fear and the Franciscans by
love, are typical of the contrasting spirits of the time. It was the
age which in the next century under Dante's influence was to burst
into blossom as the Renaissance.
FREDERICK BARBAROSSA
Not often has one man proven influential enough to dominate and alter
the direction of his epoch; but very frequently we see one taking
advantage of its tendencies and so managing these, so directing them,
that he seems almost to create his surroundings, and becomes to all
men the expression and example of his times. Such a leader was the
emperor Frederick Barbarossa (1152-1190), and we may follow his
fortunes in tracing the early part of this era.
The First Crusade had depleted Europe of half a million fighting men.
Then came a pause of fifty years, after which it was learned that
Jerusalem was again in danger of falling into the hands of the
Mahometans. So, in 1147, another vast crusading army set out to the
rescue. Barbarossa himself went with this Second Crusade, as a young
German noble. He was one of the few who escaped death in the Asian
deserts, one of the very few who from the colossal failure of the
expedition returned to Europe with added honor and reputation. He was
elected Emperor. The crusade had been as deadly as the first, though
less successful, and when this nominal leadership of Western Europe
was thus conferred on the gallant Frederick, he found the Teutonic
races weakened by the loss of a million of their most valiant
warriors--that is, of the feudal lords and their retainers.
Here we find at once one of the great causes of the decay of
Feudalism. Many of the old families had become wholly extinct; and
under the feudal system their estates lapsed to their overlords, the
kings. Other families were represented only by heiresses; and the
marrying of these ladies became a recognized move in the game for
power, in which the kings, and especially the emperor Frederick, now
took a foremost part.
Previous emperors had been figureheads; Frederick became the real
ruler of Europe. The kings of Denmark and Poland fully acknowledged
themselves his vassals. So also, though less definitely, did the King
of England. For a moment the imperial unity of Europe seemed reviving.
Only one of the Emperor's great dukes, Henry the Lion, of Saxony,
dared stand against him; and Henry was ultimately crushed. The
war-cries of the two opponents, however, became eternalized as
factional names in the struggle of Frederick's successors against
other foes. For generations whoever upheld the empire was a Waibling,
and whoever would attack it, on whatsoever plea, a Welf. Frederick,
having established his power in Germany, attempted to assert it in
Italy as well; and so the strife passed over the Alps and became that
of Ghibelline against Guelf, in Italian phrase, of emperor against
pope, of monarchy against democracy.
It was this fatal insistence upon Italian authority that brought
disaster upon Frederick and all his house, and ultimately upon the
empire as well, and on the entire German race. The Italians had been
quite content to call themselves subjects of a Holy Roman Empire which
extended but vaguely over Europe, and whose chief took his title from
their ancient city and only came among them to be crowned. They looked
at the matter in a wholly different light when Frederick regarded his
position seriously, and interfered in their affairs with the strong
hand, crushing their feuds and exacting money tribute. Rebellion was
promptly kindled, and for twenty years one German army after another
dwindled away in the passage of the Alps, wasted under the fevers of
Italian marshes, or was crushed in desperate battle. By the treaty of
Constance, in 1183, Frederick confessed the one defeat of his career.
He acknowledged the practical independence of the Italian cities.[1]
CITIES AND KINGS
The Emperor had in fact encountered a power too strong for him. He had
been struggling against the beginnings of modern democracy, a system
stronger even in its infancy than the ancient rule of the aristocracy
which it has gradually supplanted. The resistance of Italy came not
from its knights and lords, but from its great cities, which had been
slowly growing more and more self-reliant and independent. The rise of
these city republics of the Middle Ages cannot be fully traced.
Everywhere little communities of men seem to have been driven by
desperation to build walls about their group of homes and to defy all
comers. As it was in Italy that the ancient Roman civilization had
been most firmly established and the barbarian dominance least
complete, so it was in Italy that these walled towns first asserted
their importance. Venice indeed, protected by her marshes, we have
seen establishing a somewhat republican form even from her foundation.
She and Genoa and Pisa defended themselves against the Saracens and
built ships and grew to be the chief maritime powers of the
Mediterranean, rulers of island empires. They fought wars against one
another, and Pisa was overwhelmed and ruined in a tremendous conflict
with Genoa. Genoa's fleets carried supplies for the first crusaders.
In later crusades, when the deadly nature of the long journey by land
was more clearly known, the wealthy maritime republics were hired to
carry the crusaders themselves to the East--and profited vastly by the
business.
Gradually the inland cities took courage from their sea-board
neighbors. Florence became the centre of reviving art, her citizens
the chief bankers for all Europe. Milan became chief of the Lombard
cities, leading them against Barbarossa. And when he captured and
destroyed the metropolis in 1161, the burghers of the surrounding
lesser towns rallied to her help. No sooner was the Emperor out of
reach than walls and houses rose again with the speed of magic, till
Milan stood reincarnate, fairer and stronger than before.
A similar though slower growth can be traced among the cities of the
North. As early as 1067 we find the town of Mans near Normandy
rebelling against its lord. Still earlier had Henry the City-builder
thought it wise to strengthen and fortify his peasantry, despite the
counsel of his barons. Indeed, through all the Middle Ages we find
kings and commons drawn often into union by their mutual antagonism to
the feudal nobility. Barbarossa, even while he quarrelled with the
Italian cities, encouraged those of Germany.
At the same time that Frederick was thus reasserting the imperial
power, England had a strong king in Henry II. By wedding the most
important feudal heiress in France, Henry added so many provinces to
his ancestral French domain of Normandy that more than half France lay
in his possession, and the French kings found that in this overgrown
duke, who was also an independent monarch, they possessed a vassal far
wealthier and more powerful than themselves. Henry took more than one
step toward the humiliation, or even subjugation, of France, but seems
to have been hampered by a real feudal respect for his overlord.
Moreover, he got into the same difficulty as the Emperor. He
quarrelled with the Church, and found it too strong for him. Much of
his time and most of his energy were devoted to his celebrated
struggle against his great bishop, Thomas Becket.[2]
Thus the French King was given time and opportunity to strengthen his
sovereignty. Then came the great Third Crusade, altering and once more
upsetting the growing forces of the times, and among its many
unforeseen results was the rescue of France from the grip of her too
mighty vassal. The long threatening recapture of Jerusalem became a
fact in 1187.[3] The Christian kingdom established by the First
Crusade was overthrown; and Emperor Barbarossa, in his splendid and
revered old age, vowed to attempt its reëstablishment.
Once more did all the nobility of Europe pour eastward, embracing
eagerly the purpose of their chief. This was the last great crusade,
those that followed being but feeble and unimportant efforts in
comparison. Not only was the Emperor at its head, but the King of
England, son of Henry II, the famous Richard of the Lion Heart, took
up the movement with enthusiasm. So, also, though less passionately,
did Philip Augustus, ablest of the kings of France. No other crusade
could boast such names as these.[4]
Yet the mighty undertaking ended in failure. Barbarossa perished in
the East, and the glory of his empire died with him. Richard and
Philip quarrelled about precedence, and the French King seized the
opportunity to return home, full of shrewd plans for the humbling of
his obnoxious vassal sovereign. Richard, left almost alone with his
dwindling plague-stricken forces, had finally to acknowledge the
hopelessness of the cause. His adventures have been made the theme of
many a romance. On his way home he was seized and imprisoned in
Germany, and this and his death soon after left the throne to his
brother John.
BEGINNINGS OF MODERN GOVERNMENT
Historians have united to pour upon John every species of opprobrium.
Certain it is that he secured his crown by evil means, that he sought
to protect it by falsity and treachery. But after all, his rival,
Philip Augustus, could be treacherous too, and the main difference
between them is that Philip defeated John. He wrenched from him
Normandy and many of John's other French provinces, so that the
dominions of the English kings were reduced to scarce half their
former compass. Hence the opprobrium on John.[5]
Heavy as the loss might seem, it proved in reality a blessing to the
English race. Forced to confine themselves to Great Britain, her kings
became truly English, instead of French--which they had been hitherto.
England ceased to be a mere appanage of Normandy, ruled by Norman
nobles. The Normans who had settled in the island became sharply
divided from those who remained in France, and Saxons and
English-Normans became firmly welded into a united race. This is what
England owes to John.
Moreover his tyranny and falsehood led the lower classes in his realm
to unite with the nobility against him. Thus the deepset class
distinction of feudal times between lord and serf, the owner and the
owned, became less marked in England than elsewhere in Europe. The
vast threefold struggle which had everywhere to be fought out between
kings, nobles, and commons was in England decided against the kings by
the union of the other two.
Their combined strength forced from John the Magna Charta, or Great
Charter, the foundation of modern government in England, though the
celebrated document granted no new privilege to lord or citizen or
peasant. It only confirmed on parchment the rights which John would
have denied them. So this also, the corner-stone of liberty, the
beginning of constitutional progress, does England owe to her
oppressor. Never perhaps has any man devoted to evil done unwittingly
so much of good as he.[6]
Thus the English nation grew united, while the French provinces were
brought into closer dependence on their own king. In fact, Philip
Augustus, by clever use now of the commons, now of the nobles,
succeeded in dominating both. Following his example his successors
managed for many centuries to remain "lords of France" with a security
and absoluteness of power which no English king, no German emperor,
was ever again to attain.
In Germany the death of Barbarossa left his throne to a short-lived
evil son and then to an infant grandson, Frederick II. Other claimants
to the realm sprang up, the great lords asserted and fully established
their right to elect what emperor they pleased. Through this right
they made themselves strong, their ruler weak, and so feudalism
persisted in Germany while it was fading in France and England.
Private war continued, baron fought against baron, confusion and
anarchy prevailed more and more, and in the march of civilization
Germany was left behind. She lagged for centuries in the rear of her
neighbors, staring after them, despising, envying, scarce
comprehending. It is only within the last hundred and fifty years that
Germany has reasserted her ancient place among the foremost of the
nations.
THE PAPACY
We have said that the only place where Barbarossa failed was in his
Italian wars. These were waged against democracy and against the
popes. Southern Italy was at this time a kingdom, in Central Italy lay
the papal states, and north of these were all the independent cities.
Assuming the democratic leadership of the cities, the popes acquired a
strong temporal power. The growth of this we have traced through
earlier periods; it reached its culmination under Pope Innocent III
(1198-1216). He almost succeeded to the emperors as the acknowledged
ruler of Europe.[7]
Secured from martial invasion by the strength of the federated cities,
as well as by the spiritual dominion which he wielded, Innocent
extended his authority over all men and all affairs. He ordered
unlucky King John to accept a certain archbishop for England; and when
John refused, England was laid under an "interdict," that is, no
church services could be held there, not even to shrive the dying or
bury the dead. For a while John was scornful, but at length his
accumulating troubles forced him to kneel submissively to the Pope,
surrender his crown, and receive it back as a vassal of the papacy
under obligation to pay heavy tribute. By the same weapon of an
interdict Innocent forced the mighty Philip Augustus to take back a
wife whom he had divorced without papal consent. And in Germany
Innocent twice secured the creation of an emperor of his own choice,
the second being the child, Frederick II, who had been brought up
under the Pope's own guardianship.
Among other spectacular features of his reign Innocent founded the
Inquisition, and thus formally divorced the Church from its earlier
preaching of universal peace and love. Moreover, he attempted a
diversion of the tremendous, wasted power of the crusades. He wanted
holy wars fought nearer home, and preached a crusade against John of
England. The mere threat brought John to his knees; and Innocent then
turned his newfound weapon against the heretics of southern France,
the Albigenses. These unfortunate people, having a certain religious
firmness wholly incomprehensible to John, refused submission.
The crusade against them became an actual and awful reality. In the
name of Christ, men devastated a Christian country. The spirit of
persecution thus aroused became rampant in religion and remained so
for over half a thousand years. Rebels against the Church accepted its
most evil teaching, and in their brief periods of power became
torturers and executioners in their turn.
This first of the "religious wars" achieved its purpose. It
exterminated or at least suppressed the heresy by exterminating every
heretic who dared assert himself. Vast numbers of wholly orthodox
Christians perished also, since even they fought against the
"crusaders" in defending their homes. War did not change its hideous
face because man had presumed to place a blessing on it. Next to
Italy, Southern France had been the most cultured land of Europe. The
crusaders left it almost a desert. It had been practically independent
of the kings at Paris, henceforth it offered them no resistance.
A more excusable direction given by Innocent to the crusading
enthusiasm was against the Saracens in Spain. A new and tremendous
army of these had come over from Africa to reënforce their brethren,
who shared the peninsula with the Spaniards. The Pope's preaching sent
sixty thousand crusaders to help the Spaniards against this swarm of
invaders, and the Saracens were completely defeated. The battle of
Navas de Tolosa, in 1212, settled that Spain was to be Christian
instead of Mahometan.[8]
THE LATER CRUSADES
Against the Saracens of the East, however, crusades grew less and less
effective. "Geography explains much of history." In Spain the Saracens
were weak because far from the centre of their power. In the East the
Europeans were at the same disadvantage. For one man who fell in
battle in the Holy Land, twenty perished of starvation or disease upon
the journey thither. Europe began to realize this. The East no longer
lured men with the golden glamour that it held for an earlier
generation. Kings had the contrasted examples of Philip Augustus and
the heroic Richard to teach them the value of staying at home.
We need glance but briefly at these later crusades. The fourth was
undertaken in 1203. Venice contracted to transport its warriors to the
Holy Land, but instead persuaded them to join her in an attack upon
the decrepit Empire of the East.[9] Constantinople fell before their
assault and received a Norman emperor, nor did the religious zeal of
these particular followers of the cross ever carry them farther on
their original errand. They were content to establish themselves as
kings, dukes, and counts in their unexpected empire. Some of the
little Frankish states thus created lasted for over two centuries,
though the central power at Constantinople was regained by the Greek
emperors of the east in 1261.[10]
Meanwhile the patriotic and powerful King Andrew of Hungary led a
fifth crusade. The German Emperor, Frederick II, headed a sixth in
which, by diplomacy rather than arms, he temporarily regained
Jerusalem.[11] For a time this treaty of peace deprived of their
occupation the orders of religious knighthood still warring in the
East. One of these, the Teutonic Knights, made friends with Frederick,
and by his aid its members were transported to the eastern frontier of
Germany, where among the Poles and Po-russians (Prussians) they could
still find heathen fighting to their taste. From this order sprang the
military basis of modern Prussia.[12]
The Seventh and Eighth crusades were the work of the great French King
and saint, Louis IX. The enthusiasm which had roused the mass of
ordinary men to these vast destructive outpourings was faded. Louis
had to coax and persuade his people to follow him, and even his
earnest purpose and real ability could not save his expeditions from
disastrous failure. In the Seventh Crusade he attacked, not Jerusalem,
but Egypt, then the centre of Mahometan power. He was defeated and
made prisoner; his army was practically exterminated. Yet by a
personal heroism, which shone even more brilliantly in adversity than
in success, he has won lasting fame. His captivity disrupted an
empire. The mamelukes, the slave soldiers of Egypt, who had fought
most valiantly against him, were wakened to a realization of their own
power. They overthrew their sultan, and founded an Egyptian government
which lasted until Napoleon's time.[13]
After much suffering, Louis was allowed to purchase his freedom and
returned to France. There he spent long years of wise government, of
noble guidance of his people, and of secret preparations which he
dared not avow. At length in his old age he confessed to his astounded
nation that he meant to make one more attempt against the Saracens. It
was a vow to God, he said, and he begged his people for assistance.
The age had outgrown crusades. Perhaps no one man in all Louis'
domains believed in the possibility of his success. History scarce
presents anywhere a spectacle more pathetic than this last crusade,
compelled by the fire of a single enthusiast. In love of him, his
soldiers followed him, though with despair at heart; and the weeping
crowds who bade them farewell at their ships, mourned them as men
already dead. They attempted to attack the Saracens first at Tunis,
and there Louis died of fever. The crusades perished with him.[14]
POPE AND EMPEROR
With the wane of the crusading fervor waned also the power of the
popes. Innocent had extended his authority by terror and physical
force. But men soon ceased to find religious inspiration for such
"holy wars," and the calls of later popes fell upon deafened ears. The
democratic policy of Innocent's predecessors had rallied all Italy
around them; but his successors seem to have failed to recognize their
true sources of strength. They abandoned their allies and ruled with
autocratic power. Italy became divided, half Guelf, half Ghibelline,
Moreover, even Frederick II, the ward whom Innocent had placed on the
imperial throne, refused to sanction the encroachments of papal
authority over the empire. So the strife of emperor and pope began
again, only to terminate with the utter defeat and extermination of
the great house of Barbarossa. Their possessions in Southern Italy and
Sicily were conferred by the popes upon Charles of Anjou, brother of
Louis IX of France.
But while the popes were thus temporarily successful in the giant
contest against their greatest rival, to such partisan extremities
were they driven by the necessities of the struggle, that the
awakening world looked at them with doubtful eyes, began to question
their spiritual rights and honors, as well as the temporal authority
they claimed. In Charles of Anjou the popes soon found that they had
but substituted one master for another. Charles was rapidly becoming
as obnoxious to Rome as the emperors had ever been, when suddenly the
tyranny of his French soldiers roused the Sicilians to desperation,
and by the massacre of the Sicilian Vespers[15] the French power in
Italy was crushed.
Men were slow to realize that the mighty hold which the papacy had
once possessed on the deep heart of the world was being sapped at its
foundation. Diplomatic pontiffs still managed for a time to play off
one sovereign against another, and to have their battles fought by
foreign armies on a business basis. As late as the year 1300 the first
great jubilee of the Church was celebrated and brought hundreds of
thousands of pilgrims flocking to Rome.[16] The papacy, though sorely
pressed by many enemies, still proudly asserted its political
supremacy. But in truth it had lost its power, not only over the minds
of kings to hold them in subjection, not only over the interests of
nobles to stir them to revolt, but alas, even over the love of the
lower classes to rally them for its defence. Within ten years from the
great jubilee the papacy met complete defeat and subjugation at the
hands of a far lesser man and feebler monarch than Frederick II.
To the empire the long contest was as disastrous as to the papacy.
When Frederick II, at one time the most splendid monarch of Europe,
died in 1250, a crushed and defeated man, Germany sank into such
anarchy as it had not known since the days of the Hunnish invasion.
"When the Emperor was condemned by the Church," says an ancient
chronicle, "robbers made merry over their booty. Ploughshares were
beaten into swords, reaping hooks into lances. Men went everywhere
with flint and steel, setting in a blaze whatsoever they found." The
period from 1254 to 1273 is known as the "Great Interregnum" in German
history. There was no emperor, no authority, and every little lord
fought and robbed as he pleased. The cities, driven to desperation,
raised armed forces of their own and united in leagues, which later
developed into the great Hanseatic League, more powerful than
neighboring kings.[17] The anarchy spread to Italy. Bands of "Free
Companies" roamed from place to place, plundering, fighting battles,
storming walled cities, and at last the Pope sent thoroughly
frightened word to Germany that the lords must elect an emperor to
keep order or he would appoint one himself.
The Church had learned its lesson, that without a strong civil
government it could not exist. And perhaps the government had at least
partly seen what later ages learned more fully, that without religion
_it_ could not exist. Church and state were gentler to each other
after that. They realized that, whatever their quarrels, they must
stand or fall together.
So, in 1273, it was the Pope's insistence that led to the selection of
another emperor, Rudolph of Hapsburg. He was one of the lesser nobles,
elected by the great dukes so that he should be too feeble to
interfere with them. But he did interfere, and overthrew Ottocar of
Bohemia, the strongest of them all, and restored some measure of law
and tranquillity to distracted Germany. His son he managed to
establish as Duke of Austria, and eventually the empire became
hereditary in the family; so that the Hapsburgs remained rulers of
Germany until Napoleon, that upsetter of so many comfortable
sinecures, drove them out. Of Austria they are emperors even to this
day.[18]
THE TARTARS
As though poor, dishevelled Germany had not troubles sufficient of her
own, she suffered also in this century from the last of the great
Asiatic invasions. About the year 1200 a remarkable military leader,
Genghis Khan, appeared among the Tartars, a Mongol race of Northern
Asia.[19] He organized their wild tribes and started them on a bloody
career of rapine and conquest.
He became emperor of China; his hordes spread over India and Persia.
In 1226 they entered Russia, and after an heroic struggle the Russian
duchies and republics were forced into submission to the Tartar
yoke.[20] For nearly two centuries Russia became part, not of Europe,
but of Asia, and her civilization received an oriental tinge which it
has scarce yet outgrown.
The huge Tartar invasion penetrated even to Silesia in Eastern
Germany, where the Asiatics defeated a German army at Liegnitz (1241).
But so great was the invader's loss that they retreated, nor did their
leaders ever again seek to penetrate the "land of the iron-clad men."
The real "yellow peril" of Europe, her submersion under the flood of
Asia's millions, was perhaps possible at Liegnitz. It has never been
so since. In the construction of impenetrable armor the inventive
genius of the West had already begun to rise superior to the barbaric
fury of the East. The arts of civilization were soon to soar
immeasurably above mere numerical superiority.
In Asia the Tartar power probably reached its greatest height under
Kublai Khan, the Emperor of China whom Marco Polo visited.[21] And it
is worth our modern notice that Kublai failed in an attempt to conquer
Japan. Russia fell a victim to the Tartar hordes; Japan repelled
them.[22]
PROGRESS OF CONSTITUTIONAL GOVERNMENT
While Europe and Asia were thus in turmoil throughout most of this
era, England, secure in her island isolation, was making rapid
progress on the career of union and free government whereon John had
so unintentionally started her. The age thus adds to its other claims
to distinction that of having seen the beginnings of constitutional
government. England's Magna Charta was paralleled by the "Golden Bull"
of Hungary, a charter granted by the crusading King, Andrew, to his
tumultuous subjects.[23] In England the long reign of the weak Henry
III, son of John, took more and more from the power of the crown. He
was opposed by Simon of Montfort, who, to secure the affections and
support of the common people, summoned their representatives to meet
in a parliament with the knights and bishops. His "Mad Parliament"[24]
of 1258 contained the first shadow of a government by the people; his
later assemblies were still more democratic. Considered in this light
one likes to remember that Montfort's first assembly won its title of
"mad" by passing such excellent laws that none of those in power would
submit to them.
Following Henry III, Edward I came to the throne, a man of broad views
and legal mind. He confirmed and legalized the rights already attained
by his subjects, and centralized the authority of all Great Britain in
his own hands by conquering both Wales[25] and Scotland. The struggles
of Sir William Wallace and his devoted followers to throw off the
English yoke ended only in disaster.[26]
Edward, the most enlightened and perhaps the most brilliant sovereign
of the thirteenth century, endeavored to protect the Jews,[27] but was
finally compelled, by the clamor of his subjects, to expel the
unfortunate race from his domains. He, however, permitted the exiles
to take their wealth with them; and the scarcity thus created was one
of the contributing causes which compelled him to promise his
parliaments not to lay taxes without their consent. It was by this
power to control the purse of king and country that parliament finally
established itself as the supreme power in England. It "bought" each
one of its concessions, each added authority. So that we may fairly
figure that, from this time, trade becomes as important as war. Gold
begins to seem to men not only more attractive, but more powerful than
iron. The age of brute strength has passed; the age of schemes and
subtle policies begun. The merchant dominates the knight.
[FOR THE NEXT SECTION OF THIS GENERAL SURVEY SEE VOLUME VII.]
ARCHIEPISCOPATE OF THOMAS BECKET
HIS DEFENCE OF ECCLESIASTICAL JURISDICTION: HIS ASSASSINATION
A.D. 1162-1170
JOHN LINGARD
Henry II, son of the empress Matilda of Germany by her
second husband, Geoffrey of Anjou, ascended the throne of
England on the death of his uncle Stephen, the usurper, and
was the first king of that Plantagenet line which ruled
England for over three centuries.
Henry was crowned at Westminster on December 19, 1154, by
Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury. Theobald by his
authority and vigilance had maintained public tranquillity
after the death of Stephen, and by his counsels of
conciliation and peace and other services had earned the
gratitude of the Monarch.
When age compelled Theobald to retire from the councils of
his sovereign, he recommended Henry to accept as minister
his archdeacon, Thomas Becket.
Becket was the son of Gilbert Becket, a prominent citizen of
London. The boy's mother, according to an interesting
tradition, had been the daughter of a Saracen emir who had
made Gilbert a captive, in Jerusalem, after the First
Crusade. The daughter helped Gilbert to escape, and later,
for love of him, followed on an eastern ship bound for the
English metropolis, although she knew no other words of the
English language than "London" and "Gilbert." Wandering
desolately through the streets and markets, with these words
on her lips, she was recognized by a servant who had shared
his master's captivity. He hastened to tell Gilbert, who at
once sought for, sheltered her, and, shortly afterward, made
her his wife.
Their son Thomas was educated at the Abbey of Merton and in
the schools of London, Oxford, and Paris. When his father
died, Archbishop Theobald took the youth into his family. He
studied civil and canon law on the Continent, attending,
among others, the lectures of Gratian at Bologna.
His accomplishments and talents were fully recognized on his
return to England, and preferments followed rapidly until he
became archdeacon of Canterbury, a dignity with the rank of
baron, next to that of bishop and abbot. He became
confidential adviser to the Primate; as his representative
twice visited Rome; and, recommended to the notice of King
Henry, was appointed chancellor, preceptor of the young
prince, depositary of the royal favor, and received several
valuable sinecures. He assumed great splendor and
magnificence in his retinue. He attended Henry on his
expedition to France, and his chivalric exploits in Normandy
at the head of seven hundred knights, twelve hundred
cavalry, and four thousand infantry, were more befitting the
career of a military adventurer than that of a churchman.
Archbishop Theobald died in 1161, and left at the royal
disposal the highest dignity in the English Church.
The favor enjoyed by the Chancellor Thomas Becket, and the situation
which he filled, pointed him out as the person the most likely to
succeed Theobald. By the courtiers he was already called the "Future
Archbishop"; and when the report was mentioned to him, he ambiguously
replied that he was acquainted with four poor priests far better
qualified for that dignity than himself. But Henry, whatever were his
intentions, is believed to have kept them locked up within his own
breast. During the vacancy the revenues of the see were paid into his
exchequer, nor was he anxious to deprive himself of so valuable an
income by a precipitate election. At the end of thirteen months (A.D.
1162) he sent for the Chancellor at Falaise, bade him prepare for a
voyage to England, and added that within a few days he would be
archbishop of Canterbury. Becket, looking with a smile of irony on his
dress, replied that he had not much of the appearance of an
archbishop; and that if the King were serious, he must beg permission
to decline the preferment, because it would be impossible for him to
perform the duties of the situation and at the same time retain the
favor of his benefactor. But Henry was inflexible; the legate Henry of
Pisa added his entreaties; and Becket, though he already saw the storm
gathering in which he afterward perished, was induced, against his own
judgment, to acquiesce.
He sailed to England (May 30); the prelates and a deputation of the
monks of Canterbury assembled in the king's chapel at Westminster;
every vote was given in his favor; the applause of the nobility
testified their satisfaction; and Prince Henry in the name of his
father gave the royal assent. Becket was ordained priest by the Bishop
of Rochester, and the next day, having been declared free from all
secular obligations, he was consecrated by Henry of Winchester. It was
a most pompous ceremony, for all the nobility of England, to gratify
the King, attended in honor of his favorite. That the known intentions
of Henry must have influenced the electors there can be little doubt;
but it appears that throughout the whole business every necessary form
was fully observed. Gilbert Foliot, Bishop of Hereford, a prelate of
rigid morals and much canonical learning, alone observed jeeringly
that the King had at last wrought a miracle; for he had changed a
soldier into a priest, a layman into an archbishop. The sarcasm was
noticed at the time as a sally of disappointed ambition.
That Becket had still to learn the self-denying virtues of the
clerical character is plain from his own confession; that his conduct
had always defied the reproach of immorality was confidently asserted
by his friends, and is equivalently acknowledged by the silence of his
enemies. The ostentatious parade and worldly pursuits of the
chancellor were instantly renounced by the Archbishop, who in the
fervor of his conversion prescribed to himself, as a punishment for
the luxury and vanity of his former life, a daily course of secret
mortification. His conduct was now marked by the strictest attention
to the decencies of his station. To the train of knights and noblemen,
who had been accustomed to wait on him, succeeded a few companions
selected from the most virtuous and learned of his clergy. His diet
was abstemious; his charities were abundant; his time was divided into
certain portions allotted to prayer and study and the episcopal
functions. These he found it difficult to unite with those of the
chancellor; and, therefore, as at his consecration he had been
declared free from all secular engagements, he resigned that office
into the hands of the King.
This total change of conduct has been viewed with admiration or
censure according to the candor or prejudices of the beholders. By his
contemporaries it was universally attributed to a conscientious sense
of duty: modern writers have frequently described it as a mere
affectation of piety, under which he sought to conceal projects of
immeasurable ambition. But how came this hypocrisy, if it existed, to
elude, during a long and bitter contest, the keen eyes of his
adversaries? A more certain path would surely have offered itself to
ambition. By continuing to flatter the King's wishes, and by uniting
in himself the offices of chancellor and archbishop, he might in all
probability have ruled without control both in church and state.
For more than twelve months the primate appeared to enjoy his wonted
ascendency in the royal favor. But during his absence the warmth of
Henry's affection insensibly evaporated. The sycophants of the court,
who observed the change, industriously misrepresented the actions of
the Archbishop, and declaimed in exaggerated terms against the
loftiness of his views, the superiority of his talents, and the
decision of his character. Such hints made a deep impression on the
suspicious and irritable mind of the King, who now began to pursue his
late favorite with a hatred as vehement as had been the friendship
with which he had formerly honored him.
Amidst a number of discordant statements it is difficult to fix on the
original ground of the dissension between them; whether it were the
Archbishop's resignation of the chancellorship, or his resumption of
the lands alienated from his see, or his attempt to reform the
clergymen who attended the court, or his opposition to the revival of
the odious tax known by the name of the _danegelt_.[28] But that which
brought them into immediate collision was a controversy respecting the
jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical courts. A rapid view of the origin
and progress of these courts, and of their authority in civil and
criminal causes, may not prove uninteresting to the reader.
From the commencement of Christianity its professors had been exhorted
to withdraw their differences from the cognizance of profane
tribunals, and to submit them to the paternal authority of their
bishops, who, by the nature of their office, were bound to heal the
wounds of dissension, and by the sacredness of their character were
removed beyond the suspicion of partiality or prejudice. Though an
honorable, it was a distracting, servitude, from which the more pious
would gladly have been relieved; but the advantages of the system
recommended it to the approbation of the Christian emperors.
Constantine and his successors appointed the bishops the general
arbitrators within their respective dioceses; and the officers of
justice were compelled to execute their decisions without either delay
or appeal. At first, to authorize the interference of the spiritual
judge, the previous consent of both the plaintiff and defendant was
requisite; but Theodosius left it to the option of the parties, either
of whom was indulged with the liberty of carrying the cause in the
first instance into the bishop's court, or even of removing it thither
in any stage of the pleadings before the civil magistrate. Charlemagne
inserted this constitution of Theodosius in his code, and ordered it
to be invariably observed among all the nations which acknowledged his
authority. If by the imperial law the laity were permitted, by the
canon law the clergy were compelled, to accept of the bishop as the
judge of civil controversies. It did not become them to quit the
spiritual duties of their profession, and entangle themselves in the
intricacies of law proceedings. The principle was fully admitted by
the emperor Justinian, who decided that in cases in which only one of
the parties was a clergyman, the cause must be submitted to the
decision of the bishop. This valuable privilege, to which the teachers
of the northern nations had been accustomed under their own princes,
they naturally established among their converts; and it was soon
confirmed to the clergy by the civil power in every Christian country.
Constantine had thought that the irregularities of an order of men
devoted to the offices of religion should be veiled from the
scrutinizing eye of the people. With this view he granted to each
bishop, if he were accused of violating the law, the liberty of being
tried by his colleagues, and moreover invested him with a criminal
jurisdiction over his own clergy. Whether his authority was confined
to lesser offences, or extended to capital crimes, is a subject of
controversy. There are many edicts which without any limitation
reserve the correction of the clergy to the discretion of the bishop;
but in the novels of Justinian a distinction is drawn between
ecclesiastical and civil transgressions. With the former the Emperor
acknowledges that the civil power has no concern: the latter are
cognisable by the civil judge. Yet before his sentence can be
executed, the convict must be degraded by his ecclesiastical superior;
or, if the superior refuse, the whole affair must be referred to the
consideration of the sovereign. That this regulation prevailed among
the western nations, after their separation from the Empire, is proved
by the canons of several councils; but the distinction laid down by
Justinian was insensibly abolished, and, whatever might be the nature
of the offence with which a clergyman was charged, he was, in the
first instance at least, amenable to none but an ecclesiastical
tribunal.