The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Great Events by Famous Historians, Volume 06 (From Barbarossa to Dante), by Rossiter Johnson et al.

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.

The binding of this volume is a facsimile of the original on exhibition in the Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris.

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: Tragic death of Archbishop Thomas A. Becket at the alter of the Cathedral of Canterbury Painting by A. Dawant.]

THE GREAT EVENTS

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.

DIRECTING EDITOR WALTER F. AUSTIN, LL.M.

VOLUME VI PAGE

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

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

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

The "Mad Parliament"
Beginning of England's House of Commons
(A.D. 1258),
JOHN LINGARD 246

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

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.

It was thus that on the Continent the spiritual courts were first established, and their authority was afterward enlarged; but among the Anglo-Saxons the limits of the two judicatures were intermixed and undefined. When the Imperial government ceased in other countries, the natives preserved many of its institutions, which the conquerors incorporated with their own laws; but our barbarian ancestors eradicated every prior establishment, and transplanted the manners of the wilds of Germany into the new solitude which they had made. After their conversion, they associated the heads of the clergy with their nobles, and both equally exercised the functions of civil magistrates.

It is plain that the bishop was the sole judge of the clergy in criminal cases: that he alone decided their differences, and that to him appertained the cognizance of certain offences against the rights of the Church and the sanctions of religion; but as it was his duty to sit with the sheriff in the court of the county, his ecclesiastical became blended with his secular jurisdiction, and many causes, which in other countries had been reserved to the spiritual judge, were decided in England before a mixed tribunal. This disposition continued in force till the Norman Conquest; when, as the reader must have formerly noticed, the two judicatures were completely separated by the new sovereign; and in every diocese "Courts Christian," that is, of the bishop and his archdeacons, were established after the model and with the authority of similar courts in all other parts of the Western Church.

The tribunals, created by this arrangement, were bound in the terms of the original charter to be guided in their proceedings by the "episcopal laws," a system of ecclesiastical jurisprudence, composed of the canons of councils, the decrees of popes, and the maxims of the more ancient fathers. This, like all other codes of law, had in the course of centuries received numerous additions. New cases perpetually occurred; new decisions were given; and new compilations were made and published. The two, which at the time of the Conquest prevailed in the spiritual courts of France, and which were sanctioned by the charter of William in England, were the collection under the name of Isidore, and that of Burchard, Bishop of Worms.

About the end of the century appeared a new code from the pen of Ivo, Bishop of Chartres, whose acquaintance with the civil law of Rome enabled him to give to his work a superiority over the compilations of his predecessors. Yet the knowledge of Ivo must have been confined to the Theodosian code, the institutes and mutilated extracts from the pandects of Justinian. But when Amalphi was taken by the Pisans in 1137, an entire copy of the last work was discovered; and its publication immediately attracted, and almost monopolized, the attention of the learned. Among the students and admirers of the pandects was Gratian, a monk of Bologna, who conceived the idea of compiling a digest of the canon law on the model of that favorite work; and soon afterwards, having incorporated with his own labors the collections of former writers, he gave his "decretum" to the public in 1151. From that moment the two codes, the civil and canon laws, were deemed the principal repositories of legal knowledge; and the study of each was supposed necessary to throw light on the other. Roger, the bachelor, a monk of Bec, had already read lectures on the sister sciences in England, but he was advanced to the government of his abbey; and the English scholars, immediately after the publication of the decretum, crowded to the more renowned professors in the city of Bologna. After their return they practised in the episcopal courts; their respective merits were easily appreciated, and the proficiency of the more eminent was rewarded with an ample harvest of wealth and preferment.

This circumstance gave to the spiritual a marked superiority over the secular courts. The proceedings in the former were guided by fixed and invariable principles, the result of the wisdom of ages; the latter were compelled to follow a system of jurisprudence confused and uncertain, partly of Anglo-Saxon, partly of Norman origin, and depending on precedents, of which some were furnished by memory, others had been transmitted by tradition. The clerical judges were men of talents and education; the uniformity and equity of their decisions were preferred to the caprice and violence which seemed to sway the royal and baronial justiciaries; and by degrees every cause, which legal ingenuity could connect with the provisions of the canons, whether it regarded tithes, or advowsons, or public scandal, or marriage, or testaments, or perjury, or breach of contract, was drawn before the ecclesiastical tribunals. A spirit of rivalry arose between the two judicatures, which quickly ripened into open hostility. On the one side were ranged the bishops and chief dignitaries of the Church, on the other the King and barons; both equally interested in the quarrel, because both were accustomed to receive the principal share of the fees, fines, and forfeitures in their respective courts. Archbishop Theobald had seen the approach, and trembled for the issue of the contest; and from his death-bed he wrote to Henry, recommending to his protection the liberties of the Church, and putting him on his guard against the machinations of its enemies.

The contest at last commenced; and the first attack was made with great judgment against that quarter in which the spiritual courts were the most defenceless, their criminal jurisdiction. The canons had excluded clergymen from judgments of blood; and the severest punishments which they could inflict were flagellation, fine, imprisonment, and degradation. It was contended that such punishments were inadequate to the suppression of the more enormous offences; and that they encouraged the perpetration of crime by insuring a species of impunity to the perpetrator. As every individual who had been admitted to the tonsure, whether he afterward received holy orders or not, was entitled to the clerical privileges, we may concede that there were in these turbulent times many criminals among the clergy; but, if it were ever said that they had committed more than a hundred homicides within the last ten years, we may qualify our belief of the assertion, by recollecting the warmth of the two parties, and the exaggeration to which contests naturally give birth.

In the time of Theobald, Philip de Brois, a canon of Bedford, had been arraigned before his bishop, convicted of manslaughter,[29] and condemned to make pecuniary compensation to the relations of the deceased. Long afterward, Fitz-Peter, the itinerant justiciary, alluding to the same case, called him a murderer in the open court at Dunstable. A violent altercation ensued, and the irritation of Philip drew from him expressions of insult and contempt. The report was carried to the King, who deemed himself injured in the person of his officer, and ordered De Brois to be indicted for this new offence in the spiritual court. He was tried and condemned to be publicly whipped, to be deprived of the fruits of his benefice, and to be suspended from his functions during two years.

It was hoped that the severity of the sentence would mitigate the King's anger; but Henry was implacable: he swore "by God's eyes" that they had favored De Brois on account of his clerical character, and required the bishops to make oath that they had done justice between himself and the prisoner (A.D. 1163). In this temper of mind he summoned them to Westminster, and required their consent that, for the future, whenever a clergyman had been degraded for a public crime by the sentence of the spiritual judge, he should be immediately delivered into the custody of a lay officer to be punished by the sentence of a lay tribunal. To this the bishops, as guardians of the rights of the Church, objected. The proposal, they observed, went to place the English clergy on a worse footing than their brethren in any other Christian country; it was repugnant to those liberties which the King had sworn to preserve at his coronation; and it violated the first principle of law, by requiring that the same individual should be tried twice and punished twice for one and the same offence. Henry, who had probably anticipated the answer, immediately quitted the subject, and inquired whether they would promise to observe the ancient customs of the realm. The question was captious, as neither the number nor the tendency of these customs had been defined; and the Archbishop with equal policy replied that he would observe them, "saving his order." The clause was admitted when the clergy swore fealty to the sovereign; why should it be rejected when they only promised the observance of customs? The King put the question separately to all the prelates, and, with the exception of the Bishop of Chichester, received from each the same answer. His eyes flashed with indignation: they were leagued, he said, in a conspiracy against him; and in a burst of fury he rushed out of the apartment. The next morning the primate received an order to surrender the honor of Eye and the castle of Berkhamstead. The King had departed by break of day.

The original point in dispute was now merged in a more important controversy; for it was evident that under the name of the customs was meditated an attack not on one, but on most of the clerical immunities. Of the duty of the prelates to oppose this innovation no clergyman at that period entertained a doubt; but to determine how far that opposition might safely be carried was a subject of uncertain discussion. The Archbishop of York, who had been gained by the King, proposed to yield for the present, and to resume the contest under more favorable auspices; the undaunted spirit of Becket spurned the temporizing policy of his former rival, and urged the necessity of unanimous and persevering resistance. Every expedient was employed to subdue his resolution; and at length, wearied out by the representations of his friends and the threats of his enemies, the pretended advice of the Pontiff, and the assurance that Henry would be content with the mere honor of victory, he waited on the King at Woodstock, and offered to make the promise and omit the obnoxious clause. He was graciously received; and to bring the matter to an issue, a great council was summoned to meet at Clarendon after the Christmas holidays.

In this assembly, January 25, 1164, John of Oxford, one of the royal chaplains, was appointed president by the King, who immediately called on the bishops to fulfil their promise. His angry manner and threatening tone revived the suspicions of the Primate, who ventured to express a wish that the saving clause might still be admitted. At this request the indignation of the King was extreme; he threatened Becket with exile or death; the door of the next apartment was thrown open, and discovered a body of knights with their garments tucked up, and their swords drawn; the nobles and prelates besought the Archbishop to relent; and two Knights Templars on their knees conjured him to prevent by his acquiescence the massacre of all the bishops, which otherwise would most certainly ensue. Sacrificing his own judgment to their entreaties rather than their arguments, he promised in the word of truth to observe the "customs," and required of the King to be informed what they were.

The reader will probably feel some surprise to learn that they were yet unknown; but a committee of inquiry was appointed, and the next day Richard de Lucy and Joscelin de Baliol exhibited the sixteen Constitutions of Clarendon. Three copies were made, each of which was subscribed by the King, the prelates, and thirty-seven barons. Henry then demanded that the bishops should affix their seals. After what had passed, it was a trifle neither worth the asking nor the refusing. The Primate replied that he had performed all that he had promised, and that he would do nothing more. His conduct on this trying occasion has been severely condemned for its duplicity. To me he appears more deserving of pity than censure. His was not the tergiversation of one who seeks to effect his object by fraud and deception: it was rather the hesitation of a mind oscillating between the decision of his own judgment and the opinions and apprehensions of others. His conviction seems to have remained unchanged: he yielded to avoid the charge of having by his obstinacy drawn destruction on the heads of his fellow-bishops.

After the vehemence with which the recognition of the "customs" was urged, and the importance which has been attached to them by modern writers, the reader will naturally expect some account of the Constitutions of Clarendon. I shall therefore mention the principal:

I. It was enacted that "the custody of every vacant archbishopric, bishopric, abbey, and priory of royal foundation ought to be given and its revenues paid to the king; and that the election of a new incumbent ought to be made in consequence of the king's writ, by the chief clergy of the church, assembled in the king's chapel, with the assent of the king, and with the advice of such prelates as the king may call to his assistance." The custom recited in the first part of this constitution could not claim higher antiquity than the reign of William Rufus, by whom it was introduced. It had, moreover, been renounced after his death by all his successors, by Henry I, by Stephen, and, lastly, by the present King himself. On what plea therefore it could be now confirmed as an ancient custom it is difficult to comprehend.

II. By the second and seventh articles it was provided that in almost every suit, civil or criminal, in which each or either party was a clergyman, the proceeding should commence before the king's justices, who should determine whether the cause ought to be tried in the secular or episcopal courts; and that in the latter case a civil officer should be present to report the proceedings, and the defendant, if he were convicted in a criminal action, should lose his benefit of clergy. This, however it might be called for by the exigencies of the times, ought not to have been termed an ancient custom. It was most certainly an innovation. It overturned the law as it had invariably stood from the days of the Conqueror, and did not restore the judicial process of the Anglo-Saxon dynasty.

III. It was ordered that "no tenant-in-chief of the king, no officer of his household, or of his demesne, should be excommunicated, or his lands put under an interdict, until application had been made to the king, or in his absence to the grand justiciary, who ought to take care that what belongs to the king's courts shall be there determined, and what belongs to the ecclesiastical courts shall be determined in them."

Sentences of excommunication had been greatly multiplied and abused during the Middle Ages. They were the principal weapons with which the clergy sought to protect themselves and their property from the cruelty and rapacity of the banditti in the service of the barons. They were feared by the most powerful and unprincipled, because, at the same time that they excluded the culprit from the offices of religion, they also cut him off from the intercourse of society. Men were compelled to avoid the company of the excommunicated, unless they were willing to participate in his punishment. Hence much ingenuity was displayed in the discovery of expedients to restrain the exercise of this power; and it was contended that no tenant of the crown ought to be excommunicated without the king's permission, because it deprived the sovereign of the personal services which he had a right to demand of his vassal. This "custom" had been introduced by the Conqueror, and, though the clergy constantly reclaimed, had often been enforced by his successors.

IV. The next was also a custom deriving its origin from the Conquest, that no archbishop, bishop, or dignified clergyman should lawfully go beyond the sea without the king's permission. Its object was to prevent complaints at the papal court, to the prejudice of the sovereign.

V. It was enacted that appeals should proceed regularly from the archdeacon to the bishop, and from the bishop to the archbishop. If the archbishop failed to do justice, the cause ought to be carried before the king, that by his precept the suit might be terminated in the archbishop's court, so as not to proceed further without the king's consent. Henry I had endeavored to prevent appeals from being carried before the Pope, and it was supposed that the same was the object of the present constitution. The King, however, thought proper to deny it. According to the explanation which he gave, it prohibited clergymen from appealing to the pope in civil causes only, when they might obtain justice in the royal courts. The remaining articles are of minor importance. They confine pleas of debt and disputes respecting advowsons to the cognizance of the king's justices; declare that clergymen who hold lands of the crown hold by barony, and are bound to the same services as the lay barons; and forbid the bishops to admit to orders the sons of villeins, without the license of their respective lords.

As the Primate retired he meditated in silence on his conduct in the council. His scruples revived, and the spontaneous censures of his attendants added to the poignancy of his feelings. In great agony of mind he reached Canterbury, where he condemned his late weakness, interdicted himself from the exercise of his functions, wrote to Alexander a full account of the transaction, and solicited absolution from that Pontiff. It was believed that, if he had submitted with cheerfulness at Clarendon, he would have recovered his former ascendency over the royal mind: but his tardy assent did not allay the indignation which his opposition had kindled, and his subsequent repentance for that assent closed the door to forgiveness. Henry had flattered himself with the hope that he should be able to extort the approbation of the "customs" either from the gratitude of Alexander, whom he had assisted in his necessities, or from the fears of that Pontiff, lest a refusal might add England to the nations which acknowledged the antipope.

The firmness of the Pope defeated all his schemes, and the King in his anger vowed to be revenged on the Archbishop. Among his advisers there were some who sought to goad him on to extremities. They scattered unfounded reports; they attributed to Becket a design of becoming independent; they accused him of using language the most likely to wound the vanity of the monarch. He was reported to have said to his confidants that the youth of Henry required a master; that the violence of his passions must and might easily be tamed; and that he knew how necessary he himself was to a king incapable of guiding the reins of government without his assistance. It was not that these men were in reality friends to Henry. They are said to have been equally enemies to him and to the Church. They sighed after the licentiousness of the last reign, of which they had been deprived, and sought to provoke a contest, in which, whatever party should succeed, they would have to rejoice over the defeat either of the clergy, whom they considered as rivals, or of the King, whom they hated as their oppressor.

The ruin of a single bishop was now the principal object that occupied and perplexed the mind of this mighty monarch. By the advice of his counsellors it was resolved to waive the controversy respecting the "customs," and to fight with those more powerful weapons which the feudal jurisprudence always offered to the choice of a vindictive sovereign. A succession of charges was prepared, and the Primate was cited to a great council in the town of Northampton. With a misboding heart he obeyed the summons; and the King's refusal to accept from him the kiss of peace admonished him of his danger.

At the opening of the council, October 13th, John of Oxford presided; Henry exercised the office of prosecutor. The first charge regarded some act of contempt against the King, supposed to have been committed by Becket in his judicial capacity. The Archbishop offered a plea in excuse; but Henry swore that justice should be done him; and the obsequious court condemned Becket to the forfeiture of his goods and chattels, a penalty which was immediately commuted for a fine of five hundred pounds. The next morning the King required him to refund three hundred pounds, the rents which he had received as warden of Eye and Berkhamstead. Becket coolly replied that he would pay it; more, indeed, had been expended by him in the repairs, but money should never prove a cause of dissension between himself and his sovereign.

Another demand followed of five hundred pounds received by the Chancellor before the walls of Toulouse. It was in vain that the Archbishop described the transaction as a gift. Henry maintained that it was a loan; and the Court, on the principle that the word of the sovereign was preferable to that of a subject, compelled him to give security for the repayment of the money. The third day the King required an account of all the receipts from vacant abbeys and bishoprics which had come into the hands of Becket during his chancellorship, and estimated the balance due to the Crown at the sum of forty-four thousand marks. At the mention of this enormous demand the Archbishop stood aghast. However, recovering himself, he replied that he was not bound to answer: that at his consecration both Prince Henry and the Earl of Leicester, the justiciary, had publicly released him by the royal command from all similar claims; and that on a demand so unexpected and important he had a right to require the advice of his fellow-bishops.

Had the Primate been ignorant of the King's object, it was sufficiently disclosed in the conference which followed between him and the bishops. Foliot, with the prelates who enjoyed the royal confidence, exhorted him to resign; Henry of Winchester alone had the courage to reprobate this interested advice. On his return to his lodgings the anxiety of Becket's mind brought on an indisposition which confined him to his chamber; and during the next two days he had leisure to arrange plans for his subsequent conduct. The first idea which suggested itself was a bold, and what perhaps might have proved a successful, appeal to the royal pity. He proposed to go barefoot to the palace, to throw himself at the feet of the King, and to conjure him by their former friendship to consent to a reconciliation. But he afterward adopted another resolution, to decline the authority of the court, and trust for protection to the sacredness of his character.

In the morning, October 18th, having previously celebrated the mass of St. Stephen the first martyr, he proceeded to court, arrayed as he was in pontifical robes, and bearing in his hand the archiepiscopal cross. As he entered, the King with the barons retired into a neighboring apartment, and was soon after followed by the bishops. The Primate, left alone with his clerks in the spacious hall, seated himself on a bench, and with calm and intrepid dignity awaited their decision. The courtiers, to please the prince, strove to distinguish themselves by the intemperance of their language. Henry, in the vehemence of his passion, inveighed, one while against the insolence of Becket, at another against the pusillanimity and ingratitude of his favorites; till even the most active of the prelates who had raised the storm began to view with horror the probable consequences. Roger of York contrived to retire; and as he passed through the hall, bade his clerks follow him, that they might not witness the effusion of blood. Next came the Bishop of Exeter, who threw himself at the feet of the Primate, and conjured him to have pity on himself and the episcopal order; for the King had threatened with death the first man who should speak in his favor. "Flee, then," he replied; "thou canst not understand the things that are of God." Soon afterward appeared the rest of the bishops. Hilary of Chichester spoke in their name. "You were," he said, "our primate; but by opposing the royal customs, you have broken your oath of fealty to the King. A perjured archbishop has no right to our obedience. From you, then, we appeal to the Pope, and summon you to answer us before him." "I hear," was his only reply.

The bishops seated themselves along the opposite side of the hall, and a solemn silence ensued. At length the door opened and the Earl of Leicester at the head of the barons bade him hear his sentence. "My sentence," interrupted the Archbishop; "son and earl, hear me first. You know with what fidelity I served the King, how reluctantly, to please him, I accepted my present office, and in what manner I was declared by him free from all secular claims. For what happened before my consecration I ought not to answer, nor will I. Know, moreover, that you are my children in God. Neither law nor reason allows you to judge your father. I therefore decline your tribunal, and refer my quarrel to the decision of the Pope. To him I appeal and shall now, under the protection of the Catholic Church and the apostolic see, depart." As he walked along the hall, some of the courtiers threw at him knots of straw, which they took from the floor. A voice called him a traitor. At the word he stopped, and, hastily turning round, rejoined, "Were it not that my order forbids me, that coward should repent of his insolence." At the gate he was received with acclamations of joy by the clergy and people, and was conducted in triumph to his lodgings.

It was generally believed that if the Archbishop had remained at Northampton, that night would have proved his last. Alarmed by frequent hints from his friends, he petitioned to retire beyond the sea, and was told that he might expect an answer the following morning. This unnecessary delay increased his apprehensions. To deceive the vigilance of the spies that beset him, he ordered a bed to be prepared in the church, and in the dusk of the evening, accompanied by two clerks and a servant on foot, escaped by the north gate. After fifteen days of perils and adventures, Brother Christian (that was the name he assumed) landed at Gravelines in Flanders.

His first visit was paid, November 3d, to the King of France, who received him with marks of veneration; his second to Alexander, who kept his court in the city of Sens.

He had been preceded by a magnificent embassy of English prelates and barons, who had endeavored in vain to prejudice the Pontiff against him, though by the distribution of presents they had purchased advocates in the college of cardinals. The very lecture of the constitutions closed the mouths of his adversaries. Alexander, having condemned in express terms ten of the articles, recommended the Archbishop to the care of the Abbot of Pontigny, and exhorted him to bear with resignation the hardships of exile. When Thomas surrendered his bishopric into the hands of the Pope, his resignation was hailed by a part of the consistory as the readiest means of terminating a vexatious and dangerous controversy, but Alexander preferred honor to convenience, and refusing to abandon a prelate who had sacrificed the friendship of a king for the interests of the Church, reinvested him with the archiepiscopal dignity.

The eyes of the King were still fixed on the exile at Pontigny, and by his order the punishment of treason was denounced against any person who should presume to bring into England letters of excommunication or interdict from either the Pontiff or the Archbishop. He confiscated the estates of that prelate, commanded his name to be erased from the liturgy, and seized the revenues of every clergyman who had followed him into France or had sent him pecuniary assistance.

By a refinement of vengeance, he involved all who were connected with him either by blood or friendship, and with them their families, without distinction of rank or age or sex, in one promiscuous sentence of banishment. Neither men, bowing under the weight of years, nor infants still hanging at the breast, were excepted. The list of proscription was swelled with four hundred names; and the misfortune of the sufferers was aggravated by the obligation of an oath to visit the Archbishop, and importune him with the history of their wrongs. Day after day crowds of exiles besieged the door of his cell at Pontigny. His heart was wrung with anguish; he implored the compassion of his friends, and enjoyed at last the satisfaction of knowing that the wants of these blameless victims had been amply relieved by the benefactions of the King of France, the Queen of Sicily, and the Pope. Still Henry's resentment was insatiable. Pontigny belonged to the Cistercians; and he informed them that if they continued to afford an asylum to the traitor, not one of their order should be permitted to remain within his dominions. The Archbishop was compelled to quit his retreat; but Louis immediately offered him the city of Sens for his residence.

Here, as he had done at Pontigny, Becket led the solitary and mortified life of a recluse. Withdrawing himself from company and amusements, he divided the whole of his time between prayer and reading. His choice of books was determined by a reference to the circumstances in which he was placed; and in the canon law, the histories of the martyrs, and the Holy Scriptures he sought for advice and consolation. On a mind naturally firm and unbending, such studies were likely to make a powerful impression; and his friends, dreading the consequences, endeavored to divert his attention to other objects. But their remonstrances were fruitless.

Gradually his opinions became tinged with enthusiasm: he identified his cause with that of God and the Church; concession appeared to him like apostasy, and his resolution was fixed to bear every privation, and to sacrifice, if it was necessary, even his own life in so sacred a contest. The violence of Henry nourished and strengthened these sentiments; and at last, urged by the cries of the sufferers, the Archbishop assumed a bolder tone, which terrified his enemies, and compelled the court of Rome to come forward to his support. By a sentence, promulgated with more than the usual solemnity, he cut off from the society of the faithful such of the royal ministers as had communicated with the antipope, those who had framed the Constitutions of Clarendon, and all who had invaded the property of the Church. At the same time he confirmed by frequent letters the wavering mind of the Pontiff, checked by his remonstrances the opposition of the cardinals who had been gained by his adversaries; and intimated to Henry, in strong but affectionate language, the punishment which awaited his impenitence.

This mighty monarch, the lord of so many nations, while he affected to despise, secretly dreaded, the spiritual arms of his victim. The strictest orders were issued that every passenger from beyond the sea should be searched; that all letters from the Pope or the Archbishop should be seized; that the bearers should suffer the most severe and shameful punishments; and that all freemen, in the courts to which they owed service, should promise upon oath not to obey any censure published by ecclesiastical authority against the King or the kingdom. But it was for his Continental dominions that he felt chiefly alarmed. There the great barons, who hated his government, would gladly embrace the opportunity to revolt; and the King of France, his natural opponent, would instantly lend them his aid against the enemy of the Church. Hence for some years the principal object of his policy was to avert or at least to delay the blow which he so much dreaded.

As long as the Pope was a fugitive in France, dependent on the bounty of his adherents, the King had hoped that his necessities would compel him to abandon the Primate. But the antipope was now dead; and though the Emperor had raised up a second in the person of Guido of Crema, Alexander had returned to Italy, and recovered possession of Rome. Henry therefore resolved to try the influence of terror, by threatening to espouse the cause of Guido. He even opened a correspondence with the Emperor; and in a general diet at Wuerzburg his ambassadors made oath in the name of their master, that he would reject Alexander, and obey the authority of his rival. Of this fact there cannot be a doubt. It was announced to the German nations by an imperial edict, and is attested by an eye-witness, who from the council wrote to the Pope a full account of the transaction.

Henry, however, soon repented of his precipitancy. In 1167 his bishops refused to disgrace themselves by transferring their obedience at the nod of their prince; and he was unwilling to involve himself in a new and apparently a hopeless quarrel. To disguise or excuse his conduct he disavowed the act, attributed it to his envoys, and afterward induced them also to deny it. John of Oxford was despatched to Rome, who, in the presence of Alexander, swore that at Wuerzburg he had done nothing contrary to the faith of the Church or to the honor and service of the Pontiff.

His next expedient was one which had been prohibited by the Constitutions of Clarendon. He repeatedly authorized his bishops to appeal in their name and his own from the judgment of the Archbishop to that of the Pope. By this means the authority of that prelate was provisionally suspended; and though his friends maintained that these appeals were not vested with the conditions required by the canons, they were always admitted by Alexander. The King improved the delay to purchase friends. By the Pontiff his presents were indignantly refused: they were accepted by some of the cardinals, by the free states in Italy, and by several princes and barons supposed to possess influence in the papal councils.

On some occasions Henry threw himself and his cause on the equity of Alexander; at others he demanded and obtained legates to decide the controversy in France. Twice he condescended to receive the Primate, and to confer with him on the subject. To avoid altercation, it was agreed that no mention should be made of the "customs"; but each mistrusted the other. Henry was willing to preserve the liberties of the Church "saving the dignity of his crown"; and the Archbishop was equally willing to obey the King, "saving the rights of the Church." In the second conference these cautionary clauses were omitted; the terms were satisfactorily adjusted, and the Primate, as he was about to depart, requested of his sovereign the kiss of peace. It was the usual termination of such discussions, the bond by which the contending parties sealed their reconciliation. But Henry coldly replied that he had formerly sworn never to give it him; and that he was unwilling to incur the guilt of perjury. So flimsy an evasion could deceive no one; and the Primate departed in the full conviction that no reliance could be placed on the King's sincerity.

He had now in view the coronation of his son Henry, a measure the policy of which has been amply but unsatisfactorily discussed by modern historians. The performance of the ceremony belonged of right to the Archbishop of Canterbury; and Becket had obtained from the Pope a letter forbidding any of the English bishops to usurp an office which was the privilege of his see. But it was impossible for him to transmit this prohibition to those to whom it was addressed; and his enemies, to remove the scruples of the prelates, exhibited a pretended letter from the Pontiff empowering the Archbishop of York to crown the prince. He was knighted early in the morning of June 14th; the coronation was performed with the usual solemnities in Westminster Abbey; and at table the King waited on his son with his own hands. The next day William, King of Scotland, David his brother, and the English barons and free tenants did homage and swore fealty to the young King. Why the wife of the Prince was not crowned with her husband we are not informed; but Louis took to himself the insult offered to his daughter, and entered the borders of Normandy with his army. Henry hastened to defend his dominions; the two monarchs had a private conference; the former treaty was renewed; and a promise was given of an immediate reconciliation with the Primate.

Every attempt to undermine the integrity of the Pontiff had now failed; and Henry saw with alarm that the thunder, which he had so long feared, was about to burst on his dominions. A plan of adjustment had been arranged between his envoys and Alexander; and to defeat the chicanery of his advisers, it was accompanied with the threat of an interdict if it were not executed within the space of forty days. He consented to see the Archbishop, and awaited his arrival in a spacious meadow near the town of Freitville on the borders of Touraine (July 22d). As soon as Becket appeared, the King, spurring forward his horse with his cap in his hand, prevented his salutation; and, as if no dissension had ever divided them, discoursed with him apart, with all that easy familiarity which had distinguished their former friendship. In the course of their conversation, Henry exclaimed, "As for the men who have betrayed both you and me, I will make them such return as the deserts of traitors require." At these words the Archbishop alighted from his horse, and threw himself at the feet of his sovereign, but the King laid hold of the stirrup, and insisted that he should remount, saying: "In short, my Lord Archbishop, let us renew our ancient affection for each other; only show me honor before those who are now viewing our behavior." Then returning to his attendants, he observed: "I find the Archbishop in the best disposition toward me: were I otherwise toward him, I should be the worst of men." Becket followed him, and by the mouth of the Archbishop of Sens presented his petition. He prayed that the King would graciously admit him to the royal favor, would grant peace and security to him and his, would restore the possessions of the See of Canterbury, and would, in his mercy, make amends to that Church for the injury it had sustained in the late coronation of his son. In return he promised him love, honor, and every service which an archbishop could render in the Lord to his king and his sovereign. To these demands Henry assented: they again conversed apart for a considerable time; and at their separation it was mutually understood that the Archbishop, after he had arranged his affairs in France, should return to the court, and remain there for some days, that the public might be convinced of the renewal and solidity of their friendship.

If Henry felt as he pretended, his conduct in this interview will deserve the praise of magnanimity, but his skill in the art of dissimulation may fairly justify a suspicion of his sincerity. The man who that very morning had again bound himself by oath in the presence of his courtiers to refuse the kiss of peace, could not be animated with very friendly sentiments toward the Archbishop; and the mind of that prelate, though his hopes suggested brighter prospects, was still darkened with doubt and perplexity. Months were suffered to elapse before the royal engagements were executed; and when at last, with the terrors of another interdict hanging over his head (November 12th), the King restored the archiepiscopal lands, the rents had been previously levied, the corn and cattle had been carried off, and the buildings were left in a dilapidated state.

The remonstrances of the Primate and his two visits to the court obtained nothing but deceitful promises; his enemies publicly threatened his life, and his friends harassed him with the most gloomy presages; yet, as the road was at last open, he resolved to return to his diocese, and at his departure wrote to the King an eloquent and affecting letter. "It was my wish," he concludes, "to have waited on you once more, but necessity compels me, in the lowly state to which I am reduced, to revisit my afflicted church. I go, sir, with your permission, perhaps to perish for its security, unless you protect me. But whether I live, or die, yours I am, and yours I shall ever be in the Lord. Whatever may befall me or mine, may the blessing of God rest on you and your children." Henry had promised him money to pay his debts and defray the expenses of his journey. Having waited for it in vain, he borrowed three hundred pounds of the Archbishop of Rouen, and set out in the company, or rather in the custody, of his ancient enemy, John of Oxford.

Alexander, before he heard of the reconciliation at Freitville, had issued letters of suspension or excommunication against the bishops who had officiated at the late coronation; he had afterward renewed them against Roger of York (September 26th), Gilbert of London, and Joscelin of Salisbury, to whose misrepresentations was attributed the delay of the King to fulfil his engagements. For the sake of peace the Archbishop had wisely resolved to suppress these letters; but the three prelates, who knew that he brought them with him, had assembled at Canterbury, and sent to the coast Ranulf de Broc, with a party of soldiers, to search him on his landing, and take them from him. Information of the design reached him at Whitsand; and in a moment of irritation he despatched them before himself by a trusty messenger, by whom, or by whose means, they were publicly delivered to the bishops in the presence of their attendants. It was a precipitate and unfortunate measure, and probably the occasion of the catastrophe which followed. The prelates, caught in their own snare, burst into loud complaints against his love of power and thirst of revenge; they accused him to the young King of violating the royal privileges, and wishing to tear the crown from his head; and they hastened to Normandy to demand redress from the justice or the resentment of Henry.

Under the protection of his conductor the Primate reached Canterbury, December 3d, where he was joyfully received by the clergy and people. Thence he prepared to visit Woodstock, the residence of the young Henry, to pay his respects to the Prince and to justify his late conduct. But the courtiers, who dreaded his influence over the mind of his former pupil, procured a peremptory order, December 15th, for him to return, and confine himself to his own diocese. He obeyed, and spent the following days in prayer and the functions of his station. Yet they were days of distress and anxiety. The menaces of his enemies seemed to derive importance from each succeeding event. His provisions were hourly intercepted; his property was plundered; his servants were beaten and insulted.

On Christmas Day he ascended the pulpit. His sermon was distinguished by the earnestness and animation with which he spoke. At the conclusion he observed that those who thirsted for his blood would soon be satisfied, but that he would first avenge the wrongs of his Church by excommunicating Ranulf and Robert de Broc, who for seven years had not ceased to inflict every injury in their power on him, on his clergy, and on his monks. On the following Tuesday (December 28th) arrived secretly in the neighborhood four knights, Reginald Fitzurse, William Tracy, Hugh de Moreville, and Richard Brito. They had been present in Normandy when the King, irritated by the representations of the three bishops, had exclaimed, "Of the cowards who eat my bread, is there not one who will free me from this turbulent priest?" and mistaking this passionate expression for the royal license, had bound themselves by oath to return to England and either carry off or murder the Primate. They assembled at Saltwood, the residence of the Brocs, to arrange their operations.

The next day (December 29th), about two in the afternoon the knights abruptly entered the Archbishop's apartment, and, neglecting his salutation, seated themselves on the floor. It seems to have been their wish to begin by intimidation; but if they hoped to succeed, they knew little of the intrepid spirit of their opponent. Pretending to have received their commission from Henry, they ordered the Primate to absolve the excommunicated prelates. He replied with firmness, and occasionally with warmth, that if he had published the papal letters, it was with the royal permission; that the case of the Archbishop of York had been reserved to the Pontiff; but that he was willing to absolve the others on condition that they previously took the accustomed oath of submitting to the determination of the Church. It was singular that of the four knights, three had, in the days of his prosperity, spontaneously sworn fealty to him. Alluding to this circumstance he said, as they were quitting the room, "Knowing what formerly passed between us, I am surprised you should come to threaten me in my own house."

When they were gone, his attendants loudly expressed their alarm: he alone remained cool and collected, and neither in his tone nor gesture betrayed the slightest symptom of apprehension. In this moment of suspense the voices of the monks singing vespers in the choir struck their ears; and it occurred to someone that the church was a place of greater security than the palace. The Archbishop, though he hesitated, was borne along by the pious importunity of his friends; but when he heard the gates close behind him he instantly ordered them to be reopened, saying that the temple of God was not to be fortified like a castle.

He had passed through the north transept, and was ascending the steps of the choir, when the knights with twelve companions, all in complete armor, burst into the church. As it was almost dark, he might, if he had pleased, have concealed himself among the crypts or under the roof; but he turned to meet them, followed by Edward Grim, his cross-bearer, the only one of his attendants who had not fled. To the vociferations of Hugh of Horsea, a military subdeacon, "Where is the traitor?" no answer was returned; but when Fitzurse asked, "Where is the Archbishop?" he replied: "Here I am, the Archbishop, but no traitor. Reginald, I have granted thee many favors. What is thy object now? If you seek my life, I command you in the name of God not to touch one of my people." When he was told that he must instantly absolve the bishops he answered, "Till they offer satisfaction I will not!"

Grim interposed his arm, which was broken, but the force of the stroke bore away the Primate's cap and wounded him on the crown. As he felt the blood trickling down his face he joined his hands and bowed his head saying, "In the name of Christ and for the defence of his Church I am ready to die." In this posture, turned toward his murderers, without a groan and without a motion, he awaited a second stroke, which threw him on his knees; the third laid him on the floor at the foot of St. Bennet's altar. The upper part of his skull was broken in pieces, and Hugh of Horsea, planting his foot on the Archbishop's neck, with the point of his sword drew out the brains and strewed them over the pavement![30]

Thus at the age of fifty-three perished this extraordinary man, a martyr to what he deemed to be his duty, the preservation of the immunities of the Church. The moment of his death was the triumph of his cause. His personal virtues and exalted station, the dignity and composure with which he met his fate, the sacredness of the place where the murder was perpetrated, all contributed to inspire men with horror for his enemies and veneration for his character. The advocates of the "customs" were silenced. Those who had been eager to condemn, were now the foremost to applaud, his conduct; and his bitterest foes sought to remove from themselves the odium of having been his persecutors. The cause of the Church again flourished: its liberties seemed to derive new life and additional vigor from the blood of their champion.

THE PEACE OF CONSTANCE SECURES THE LIBERTIES OF THE LOMBARD CITIES

A.D. 1183

ERNEST F. HENDERSON

Frederick, Duke of Swabia, and his brother Conrad, Duke of the Franks, grandsons of Henry IV, were the hereditary and dynastic successors to the throne of Germany, when with the death of Henry V in 1125 the male line of the Franconian dynasty ended. The brothers demanded the assertion of the elective right in the imperial office, and Lothair, Duke of Saxony, was elected emperor of Germany.

Lothair died in 1138. His son-in-law, the Wolf or Welf nobleman, Henry the Proud, Duke of Bavaria, whom Lothair had nominated as his successor, was opposed by the Swabian faction—also known as the Waiblingen faction—from the Franconian village in which the Swabian duke Frederick was born.

The Waiblingen faction elected as emperor of Germany Conrad the Crusader, in whom began the Hohenstaufen dynasty, so named from the Swabian family seat on the lofty Staufen hill rising from the Rems River.

     From this event dates the strife of the Welfs and
     Waiblingens, who in Italy became known as Guelfs and
     Ghibellines. The chief opponents in the long strife that
     ensued were the Guelf dukes, Henry the Proud and Henry the
     Lion, and the Ghibelline emperor Frederick Barbarossa.

Frederick Barbarossa (Redbeard) succeeded his father Conrad in 1152, and began a reign which was disturbed by wars with his nobility and by expeditions into Italy to subdue the revolts of the city republics of Lombardy against imperial authority. During his first expedition to Italy, 1154-1155, Barbarossa soon crushed all opposition and was crowned Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, at Rome, by Pope Hadrian IV. During his second expedition, 1158-1162, he destroyed the city of Milan and dispersed the inhabitants, who sought refuge in cities with which they had formerly been at enmity. Barbarossa's violence antagonized the Italians, and they combined in the Lombard League to drive him out of Italy. He was excommunicated by Pope Alexander III, who succeeded Hadrian in 1159, and to inaugurate the league a town named Alessandria in honor of the Pope was founded on the Piedmont frontier. In the expedition of 1166-1168 Barbarossa, who had set up an antipope, captured Rome and enthroned Paschal III as pope. His triumph however, was shortened by a pestilence which decimated his troops, and thence began a series of reverses which ended in the ascendency of the Lombard League.

No sooner had Frederick passed through North Italy on the way to his triumph and ultimate humiliation in Rome than the formation was begun of that greater Lombard League which was to prove so terrible and invincible an enemy. Cremona was, according to the Emperor's own account, the prime mover in the matter. Mantua, Bergamo, and Brescia joined with that city, and bound themselves to mutual protection. The league, which was to last for fifty years, was not openly hostile to the Emperor; fidelity to him, indeed, was one of the articles of its constitution. But only such duties and services were to be performed as had been customary in the time of Conrad III; so the cities practically renounced the Roncaglian decrees and declared themselves in revolt.

From the beginning, too, the league took sides with Alexander. But its most daring act of insubordination was the leading back in triumph of the Milanese to the scene of their former glory. The outer walls of Milan had not been entirely levelled to the ground, and the city arose as if by magic from her ruins. Bergamo, Brescia, and Cremona lent her efficient aid in the work of restoration.

A sculpture executed in 1171 by order of the consuls, and showing the return, accompanied by their allies, of the exiles, is still to be seen in Milan, near the Porta Romana. How few of those who look on it to-day realize what that return meant to the long-suffering citizens, and what premonitions of evil to come must have gone with them.

The Lombard League spread rapidly. Lodi, after much demur and after being surrounded by an army, was forced to join it. Piacenza needed no constraint, and Parma yielded after some opposition. Including Milan there were soon eight cities in the confederation. The imperial officials were disavowed and the old consular rule reëstablished, while everywhere Alexandrine bishops replaced those that had been invested by Victor and Paschal.

Returning almost in disgrace from Rome, Frederick took up the struggle against the revolted cities, sending an appeal for reinforcements to Germany. But an attack on Milan proved fruitless, as did also one on Piacenza, and the Emperor was soon forced to intrench himself in Pavia. His position became more and more desperate, the more so as the new archbishop of Milan, Galdinus, unfolded a great activity in favor of Alexander. The Pope named him apostolic legate for the whole of Lombardy, and it was doubtless due to his influence that at this time the Verona coalition formally joined the Lombard League.

Sixteen cities were now banded together against the Emperor, who remained helpless in their midst. Pavia soon ceased to be a safe refuge, and he retired to Novara and then to Vercelli; but both cities were even then planning to join the confederation.

In the end Frederick prepared to leave Italy as a fugitive, and with but a small train of followers. In Susa, where the road begins which leads over the Mount Cenis pass, he was told that he must give up the few remaining hostages he was leading with him. All exits were found to be closed against him, and it came to his ear that an attempt was to be made upon his life.

The Emperor fled from Susa disguised as a servant, while his chamberlain, Hartmann of Siebeneichen, who bore him a striking likeness, continued to play the part of captive monarch. A band of assassins actually made their way into the royal chamber, but seem to have spared the brave chamberlain on learning their mistake.

The real object of their attack was meanwhile hastening on toward
Basel, which he finally reached in safety.

It was to be expected that a man of Frederick's iron will would soon return to avenge the humiliations he had suffered, and the League hastened to strengthen itself in all directions. Alexander was invited to take up his residence in their midst, and he, although obliged to refuse, continued to work for the rebel cities. The latter showed their gratitude by founding a new town, which was to be a common fortress for the whole league, and naming it Alessandria in honor of their ally. The citizens took an oath of fealty to the Pope and agreed to pay him a yearly tax. The new foundation, although laughed at at first by the imperialists and called Alessandria della Paglia, from its hastily constructed straw huts, soon held a population of fifteen thousand. It continues to-day to reflect credit on its sponsor.

Contrary to all expectations it was six years before Frederick returned to Italy, and the Lombard League was meanwhile left master of the field. This delay is undoubtedly ascribable to the fact that the Emperor found it impossible at once to raise another army. The recent blows of fate had been too severe, and no enthusiasm for a new Italian war could be called into being. When, later, Frederick did recross the Alps it was with the mere shadow of an army; the nobles had seized every possible excuse to remain at home.

No doubt but that the enforced rest was of benefit to Germany; there at least the Emperor's power was undiminished. Indeed, the lands of many of those who had been carried away by the pestilence had fallen to him by inheritance, or lapsed as fiefs of the crown. Frederick is the first of the emperors who really acquired great family possessions. These helped him to maintain his imperial power without having to rely too much on the often untrustworthy princes of the realm. The Salian estates, to which his father had fallen heir on the death of Henry V, formed a nucleus, while, by purchase and otherwise, he acquired castle after castle, and one stretch of territory after another, especially in Suabia and the Rhine Palatinate.

By the Emperor's influence feud after feud was settled, and the princes were induced to acknowledge his second son—why not his eldest has never been explained—as successor to the throne. The internal prosperity and concord were not without their influence on the neighboring powers, and Hungary, Bohemia, and Poland were forced to acknowledge and fulfil their feudal duties.

Meanwhile Tuscany and a part of the Romagna had remained true to the empire. Frederick's emissary, Christian of Mayence, who was sent to Italy in 1171, was able to play a leading rôle in the hostilities between Pisa and Genoa, and, in 1173, to again besiege Ancona, which was still a centre for Greek intrigues. Christian was able to assure the Emperor that some allies at least were left in Italy.

In one way time had worked a favorable change. So long as an immediate attack was to be feared the Lombard cities—between thirty and forty of which, including such towns as Venice, Bologna, and Pavia, had finally joined the League—were firmly united and ready to make any effort. But as the years went on and the danger became less pressing, internal discord crept in among them. Venice, for instance, helped Christian of Mayence in besieging Ancona; and Pavia, true to its old imperial policy, was only waiting for an opportunity for deserting its latest allies. The league feared, too, that Alexander might leave it to its fate and make an independent peace with the Emperor.

As a matter of fact, in 1170, strong efforts had been made to bring about such a consummation. But Frederick was bound by the Wuerzburg decrees, and his envoy could not offer the submission that Alexander required.

John of Salisbury tells us that the Emperor made a proposition to the effect that he himself, for his own person, should not be compelled to recognize any pope "save Peter and the others who are in heaven," but that his son Henry, the young King of the Romans, should recognize Alexander, and, in return, receive from him the imperial coronation. The bishops ordained by Frederick's popes were to remain in office. Alexander answered these proposals with a certain scorn, and the imperial ambassador, Eberhard of Bamberg, returned from Veroli, where the conference had taken place, with nothing to show for his pains.

Alexander's next move was to send an account of the interview to the heads of the Lombard League, and at the same time to consecrate, as it were, that organization. He declared that it had been formed for the purpose of defending the peace of the cities which composed it, and of the Church, against the "so-called Emperor, Frederick," whose yoke it had seen fit to cast off. The rectors of the confederation were taken under the wing of the papacy, and those who should disobey them threatened with the ban. The Pope recommended a strict embargo on articles of commerce from Tuscany should the cities of that province refuse to join the league.

At this same time Alexander showed his friendliness toward the Eastern Empire by performing in person the marriage ceremony over the niece of the Emperor Manuel and one of the Roman Frangipani.

Frederick's first act on entering Italy in 1174 was to wreak vengeance on Susa, where he had once been captive; no half measures were used, and the town was soon a heap of ashes. Asti, also, the first league town which lay in the path of the imperial army, was straightway made to capitulate. But, although the fall of these two cities induced many to abandon the cause of the league, the new fortress of Alessandria, situated as it was in the midst of a swampy plain and surrounded with massive earth walls, proved an effectual stumbling-block in the way of the avenger. Heavy rains and floods came to the aid of the besieged city and the imperial tents and huts were almost submersed, while hunger and other discomforts caused many of the allies of the Germans to desert. The siege was continued for six months, but Frederick at last abandoned it on learning that an army of the league was about to descend on his weakened forces. He burned his besieging implements, his catapults, battering rams, and movable towers, and retreated to Pavian territory.

The forces of the allied cities were sufficient to alarm Frederick, but they did not follow up their advantage. One is surprised to find negotiations for a peace begun at a time when a decisive battle seemed imminent. What preliminary steps were taken, or why the Lombards should have been the first to take them, is not clear; although some slight successes gained by Christian of Mayence at this juncture in the neighborhood of Bologna may have been not without effect.

A commission of six men was appointed to draw up the articles of treaty, three being chosen from the cities, three appointed by the Emperor. The consuls of Cremona were to decide on disputed points—points, namely, as to which it was impossible to arrive at a mutual agreement. A truce to all hostilities was meanwhile declared, and at Montebello both sides bound themselves to concur in whatever arrangement should be made by the commission and the consuls. The Lombards meanwhile went through the form of a submission, knelt at the Emperor's feet, and lowered their standards before him. Frederick thereupon received them into favor and dismissed the greater part of his army, the league doing likewise.

Naturally enough the disputed points were the most important ones, and had to be referred to the consuls of Cremona. But the rage and disappointment of the Lombards went beyond bounds when the different decisions, which, indeed, were remarkably fair, at last were made known. The Emperor was to exercise no prerogatives in Northern Italy that had not been exercised in the time of Henry V; he was also to sanction the continuance of the league. But no arrangement was made for a peace between the heads of Christendom, although the league had made this its first demand. Then, too, Alessandria, which Frederick considered to have been founded in scorn of himself, was to cease to exist, and its inhabitants were to return to their former homes.

The report of the consuls roused a storm of indignation; in many cases the document embodying it was torn in shreds by the mob. The Lombards altogether refused to be bound by the terms of the treaty, and reopened hostilities. Frederick hastily gathered what forces he could and sent a pressing call to Germany for aid.

It was now that the greatest vassal of the Crown, Henry the Lion, rewarded twenty years of trustfulness and favor by deserting Frederick in his hour of need. The only cause that is known, a strangely insufficient one, was a dispute concerning the town of Goslar, which the Emperor had withdrawn from Henry's jurisdiction. The details of the meeting, which took place according to one chronicle at Partenkirchen, to another at Chiavenna, are but vaguely known to us, but Frederick is said to have prostrated himself at the feet of his mighty subject and to have begged in vain for his support.

We have seen how Frederick, at the beginning of his reign, had caused Henry, who was already in possession of Saxony, to be acknowledged Duke of Bavaria in place of Henry Jasomirgott, who was conciliated by the gift of the new duchy of Austria. From that moment Henry the Lion's power had steadily grown. He increased his glory, and above all his territory, by constant wars against the Wends, developing a hitherto unheard-of activity in the matter of peopling Slavic lands with German colonists. The bishoprics of Lubeck, Ratzeburg and Schwerin owed to him their origin, while he it was who caused the marshy lands around Bremen to be reclaimed and cultivated.

When, on various occasions, conspiracies were formed against Henry by other Saxon nobles, the Emperor had boldly and successfully taken his part, helping in person to quell the insurgents; in 1162 he had prevented the Duke of Austria and the King of Bohemia from trying to bring about their rival's downfall.

A marriage with Matilda, daughter of the King of England, had increased the great Saxon's influence; and during the continued absences of the Emperor in Italy his rule was kingly in all but name. In 1171 he affianced his daughter to the son of King Waldemar of Denmark, and by this alliance secured his new colonies from Danish hostility.

In actual extent and productiveness his estates fairly surpassed those of his imperial cousin, and the defection of such a man signified the death knell of the latter's cause.

The battle of Legnano, fought on May 29, 1176, ended in disaster and defeat. Frederick himself, who was wounded and thrown from his horse, finally reached Pavia after days of adventurous flight, having meanwhile been mourned as dead by the remnant of his army.

All was not yet lost, indeed, for the league, not knowing what reinforcements were on the way from Germany—the small army of Christian of Mayence, too, was still harvesting victories in the March of Ancona—did not follow up its successes. Cremona, moreover, jealous of Milan, began to waver in her allegiance to the cause of which she had so long been the leader, and eventually signed a treaty with the Emperor.

But Frederick, although he at first made a pretence of continuing the war, was soon forced by the representations of his nobles to abandon the policy of twenty-four years, and to make peace on the best terms obtainable with Alexander III, and, through him, with the Lombard cities. The oath of Wuerzburg was broken, and the two treaties of Anagni and Venice put an end to the long war.

At Anagni the articles were drawn up on which the later long and wearisome negotiations were based. The Emperor, the Empress, and the young King of the Romans were to acknowledge Alexander as the Catholic and universal pope, and to show him all due respect. Frederick was to give up the prefecture of Rome and the estates of Matilda, and to make peace with the Lombards, with the King of Sicily, the Emperor of Constantinople, and all who had aided and supported the Roman Church. Provision was to be made for a number of German archbishops and bishops who had received their authority from the antipopes.

There is no need to dwell on the endless discussions that ensued with regard to these matters; more than once it seemed as though all attempts at agreement would have to be abandoned. But both parties were sincerely anxious for peace, and at last a remarkably skilful compromise was drawn up at Venice.

Frederick had objected strongly to renouncing the rights of the empire regarding the estates of Matilda; he was to be allowed to draw the revenues of those estates for fifteen years to come, and the question was eventually to be settled by commissioners. The form of the peace with the Lombards was a still more difficult matter, but the Pope made a wise suggestion which was adopted. A truce of six years was declared, at the end of which time it was hoped that a basis would have been found for a readjustment of the relations between the Emperor and the league. With Sicily, too, hostilities were to cease for a term of fifteen years.

It will be seen that all the great questions at issue, save the recognitions of Alexander as pope, were thus relegated to a future time; to a time when the persons concerned would no longer be swayed by passion, and when the din of war would be forgotten.

During the negotiations the Pope had remained for the most part in Venice, while Frederick had not been allowed to enter the city, but had remained in the neighborhood in order that the envoys might pass more quickly to and fro. The terms of the treaty were finally assented to by the Emperor at Chioggia, July 21, 1177. Alexander now prepared to carry out his cherished project of holding a mighty peace congress at Venice; and there, at the news of the approaching reconciliation, nobles and bishops and their retinues came together from all parts of Europe.

Now that the peace was to become an accomplished fact, Venice outdid herself in preparing to honor the Emperor. The latter, too, was determined to spare no expense that could add to the splendor of the occasion. He had negotiated for a loan with the rich Venetians, and he now imposed a tax of one thousand marks of silver on his nobles.

Frederick's coming was announced for Sunday, July 24th, and by that time the city had donned its most festive attire. Two tall masts had been erected on the present Piazzetta, and from them floated banners bearing the lion of St. Mark's. A platform had been constructed at the door of the church, and upon it was placed a raised throne for the Pope.

When the Emperor landed on the Lido he was met by cardinals whom Alexander had sent to absolve him from the ban. The Doge, the Patriarch of Grado, and a crowd of lesser dignitaries then appeared and furnished a brilliant escort with their gondolas and barks. Having reached the shore Frederick, in the presence of an immense crowd, approached the papal throne, and, throwing off his purple mantle, prostrated himself before the Pope and kissed the latter's feet. Three red slabs of marble mark the spot where he knelt. It was a moment of world-wide importance; the Empire and the papacy had measured themselves in mortal combat, and the Empire, in form at least, was now surrendering at discretion. No wonder that later ages have fabled much about this meeting. The Pope is said, with his foot on the neck of the prostrate King, to have exclaimed aloud, "The lion and the young dragon shalt thou trample under thy feet!"

As a matter of fact Alexander's letters of this time express anything but insolent triumph, and his relations with the Emperor after the peace had been sworn to assumed the friendliest character. On the day after his entry into Venice Frederick visited him in the palace of the Patriarch, and we are told that the conversation was not only amicable, but gay, and that the Emperor returned to the Doge's palace in the best of moods.

A year after the congress at Venice the antipope—Calixtus III had succeeded Paschal in 1168 without in any way altering the complexion of affairs—made a humble submission to Alexander at Tusculum. Therewith the schism ended, and a year later, in 1179, Alexander held a great council in the Lateran, where it was decreed that a two-thirds majority in the college of cardinals was necessary to make valid the choice of a pope. There was no mention of the clergy and people of Rome, none of the right of confirmation on the part of the Emperor.

It was not to be supposed that Frederick would ever forgive that act of Henry the Lion by which the whole aspect of the war in Italy had been changed. Yet it is probable that technically Henry had committed no offence against the Empire; for no charge of desertion or "herisliz," as refusal to do military service was called, or even of neglect of feudal duties, was ever brought against him. He probably possessed some privilege, like that bestowed on Henry Jasomirgott, rendering it optional with him to accompany the Emperor on expeditions out of Germany.

But the circumstances had been so exceptional, so much had hung in the balance at the time of Frederick's appeal for aid, that no one can blame the Emperor for now letting Henry feel the full weight of his displeasure. Nor was an occasion lacking by which his ruin might be accomplished. For years the Saxon nobles and bishops had writhed under Henry's oppressions, and the Emperor had hitherto taken sides with his powerful cousin; he now lent a willing ear to the charges of the latter's enemies.

The restitution to Udalrich of Halberstadt of his bishopric, a restitution that had been provided for in the treaty of Venice, gave the signal for the conflict. Henry the Lion refused to restore certain fiefs which, as Udalrich asserted, belonged to the Halberstadt Church. Archbishop Philip of Cologne and others came forward with similar claims.

Henry was repeatedly summoned to answer his accusers, but did not deign to appear. On the contrary he prepared to raise up for himself allies and to besiege the castles of those who would not join him. His own lands were thereupon laid waste by his private enemies, and that with the Emperor's consent. But Halberstadt, which took part in one of these plundering expeditions, suffered a terrible vengeance at the hand of the enraged Guelf. In one destructive blaze the city, churches and all, was reduced to ashes. In the war that he was now waging Henry did not hesitate to call in even the Wends to his aid, but Westphalia was soon lost to him, and only in East Saxony was he able to maintain himself.

At a diet held in Wuerzburg in January, 1180, the Emperor laid the question before the princes what was to be done to one who had refused, after having been three times summoned, to come before the imperial tribunal. The answer was that he was to be deprived of all honor, to be judged in the public ban, and to lose his duchy and all his benefices. Thus was final sentence passed on the chief man in Germany next to the Emperor himself.

An imperial army was now raised and several fortresses were besieged. No battle took place, but the fact that Frederick had a large force at his command was sufficient to cause defection in the ranks of Henry's allies. In 1181 the Emperor's army marched as far as Lubeck, which city, Henry's proudest foundation, was forced to submit. The whole region north of the Elbe followed Lubeck's example, and Henry was soon forced to confess that his cause was hopeless. He laid down his arms, and was summoned to a diet at Erfurt to learn his fate. Here he fell on his knees before Frederick, who, with tears in his eyes, raised him and kissed him in token of peace.

He was made to surrender all his possessions with the exception of Brunswick and Luneburg. He was to go into exile, and to bind himself by an oath not to return without the Emperor's permission. He soon afterward passed over to Normandy, where he stayed for two years with his father-in-law, Henry II. He then passed over with the latter to England.

The years immediately following the Congress of Venice were, strange to say, the most brilliant period of Frederick's reign. It was, after all, only his ideals that had suffered, and a time of prosperity now settled down upon the nation.

With Alexander the Emperor remained on friendly terms; but the Pope in 1181 died in exile, having been forced by the faithless Romans, as Gregory VII had been a century before, to flee the holy city.

The peace with the Lombard towns was signed at Constance within the six years agreed upon, on June 23, 1183. The communal freedom for which they had fought so long was now accorded them; the Emperor gave up all right to the regalia and recognized the Lombard League. His dream of becoming a second Justinian had not been realized.

The cities received the privilege of using the woods, meadows, bridges, and mills in their immediate vicinity, and of raising revenues from them; the jurisdiction in ordinary, civil, and criminal cases; the right of making fortifications. The Emperor was, to a certain extent, to be provided for when he chose to come to Italy; but he promised to make no long stay in any one town. The cities were to choose their own consuls, who were to be invested with their dignity by the Emperor or his representatives. The ceremony, however, was to be performed only once in five years. In important matters where more than a certain sum was at stake, appeals to the Emperor were to be allowed.

With the city of Alessandria, so long to him a thorn in the flesh, Frederick had already come to a separate agreement by consent of the league. The city was, technically, to be annihilated, and then to be refounded; it was no longer to bear the name of the Pope, but that of the Emperor. Alessandria was to become Cæsarea; yet none of the Inhabitants was to suffer by the change.

The treaty is extant; it provided that the people should leave the
city and remain without the walls until led back by an imperial envoy.
All the male inhabitants of Cæsarea were then to swear fealty to the
Emperor and to his son Henry VI.

SALADIN TAKES JERUSALEM FROM THE CHRISTIANS

A.D. 1187

SIR GEORGE W. COX

Eight days after their conquest of the Holy City, in 1099, the first crusaders proceeded to establish the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem, with Godfrey of Bouillon as its first king. On the death of Godfrey, in 1100, his brother Baldwin succeeded him, and in 1118 he was succeeded by Baldwin II, Count of Edessa. The fourth king was Fulc, Count of Anjou and son-in-law of Baldwin II (1131-1144), and after him reigned his son, Baldwin III (1144-1162). This King came to the throne at the age of thirteen. Early in his reign the Christian stronghold of Edessa, in Mesopotamia, was captured by the Turks, and its loss, which seemed to threaten the destruction of the kingdom of Jerusalem itself, was the occasion of an appeal to Europe which called out the Second Crusade. The great preacher of this crusade was St. Bernard of Clairvaux, a man who, in earnestness and eloquence, closely resembled Pope Urban and Peter the Hermit. Bernard's influence won to his cause not only the common people, but also nobles and kings, and the Second Crusade was led by Louis VII, King of France, and Conrad III, Emperor of Germany.

The time of the Second Crusade was 1147-1149. Louis and Conrad each commanded a great army, but they made the mistake of working separately. Conrad reached Constantinople first, and partly in consequence of the faithless conduct of Manuel, the Byzantine emperor—who, like his predecessor Alexius, in the time of the First Crusade, threw obstacles in the way of the western hosts—the whole German army was cut to pieces in Asia Minor, only the Emperor himself, with a few followers, escaping. Louis, soon arriving with his army, received the same treatment from Manuel, and after taking a few towns he saw his forces likewise destroyed by the Turks. Louis himself escaped and returned to France.

So ended in utter failure and shame the Second Crusade. The event seemed to give the lie to the glowing promises of St. Bernard, who was charged by anguished women with sending their fathers, husbands, and sons forth on a fruitless errand to disgrace and death. The Latin kingdom of Jerusalem profited nothing from this ignominious enterprise. The power of that kingdom was already waning, and, but for the knights of the military orders now in Jerusalem, the city must have yielded to the Turcoman hordes that continually menaced it. Baldwin III died in 1162, at the age of thirty-three, loved and lamented by his people and respected by his foes. He died childless, and his brother Almeric was elected to succeed him. What experience and what fate awaited the kingdom after this will be seen in the remarkable narration which follows.

Almost at the beginning of Almeric's reign the affairs of the Latin kingdom became complicated with those of Egypt; and the Christians are seen fighting by the side of one Mahometan race, tribe, or faction against another. The divisions of Islam may have turned less on points of theology, but they were scarcely less bitter than those of Christendom; and Noureddin, the sultan of Aleppo, eagerly embraced the opportunity which gave him a hold on the Fatimite Caliph of Egypt, when Shawer, the grand wazir of that Caliph, came into his presence as a fugitive. A soldier named Dargham had risen up and deposed him, and the deposition of the wazir was the deposition of the real ruler, for the Fatimite caliphs themselves were now merely the puppets which the Merovingian kings had been in the days of Charles Martel and Pépin.

Among the generals of Noureddin were Shiracouh and his nephew Saladin (Salah-ud-deen) of the shepherd tribe of the Kurds. These Noureddin despatched into Egypt to effect the restoration of Shawer. His enemy Dargham had sought by lavish offers to buy the aid of the Latins; but the terms were still unsettled when he was worsted in a battle by Shiracouh and slain. Shawer again sat in his old seat; but with success came the fear that his supporters might prove not less dangerous than his enemies. He refused to fulfil his compact with Noureddin and ordered his generals to quit the country. Shiracouh replied by the capture of Pelusium, and Shawer, more successful than Dargham in obtaining aid from Jerusalem, besieged Shiracouh in his newly conquered city with the help of the army of Almeric. The Latin King after a fruitless blockade of some months found himself called away to meet dangers nearer home; and the besieged general, not knowing the cause, accepted an offer of capitulation binding him to leave Egypt after the surrender of his prisoners. But the Latin armies were transferred from Egypt only to undergo a desperate defeat at the hands of Noureddin in the territory of Antioch, and thus to leave Antioch itself at the mercy of the enemy.

Noureddin may have hesitated to attack Antioch, from the fear that such an enterprise might bring upon him the arms of the Greek Emperor. He was more anxious to extinguish the Fatimite power in Egypt; in other words, to become lord of countries hemming in the Latin kingdom to the south as well as to the north; and it was precisely this danger which King Almeric knew that he had most reason to fear. To put the best color on his design, Noureddin obtained from Mostadhi, the caliph of Bagdad, the sanction which converted his enterprise into a war as holy as that which the Norman conqueror waged against Harold of England. The story of the war attests the valor of both sides, under the alternations of disaster and success. The Latin King had already entered Cairo, when a large part of the force of Shiracouh was overwhelmed by a terrific sandstorm. But the retreat of Shiracouh across the Nile failed to reassure the Egyptians. Almeric received two hundred thousand gold pieces for the continuance of his help, with the promise that two hundred thousand more should be paid to him on the complete destruction of their enemies; and the treaty was ratified in the presence of the powerless sovereign, whose consent was never asked for the alliances or treaties of the minister who was his master. The remaining events of the campaign were a battle, in which a part of the army of Almeric was defeated by Shiracouh and his nephew Saladin; the surrender of Alexandria on the summons of Shiracouh; and the blockade of that city by Almeric, who at length obtained from the Turk the pledge that after an exchange of prisoners he would lead his forces away from Egypt, on the condition that the road to Syria should be left open to him.

The banners of Almeric and the Fatimite Caliph waved together on the walls of Alexandria; but on either side the peace or truce was a mere makeshift for the purpose of gaining time. Neither the Latin King nor the Sultan of Aleppo had given up the thought of the conquest of Egypt; and Almeric found a ready cause of quarrel in the plea that since his own return to Palestine the Egyptians had entered into communication with their enemy and his. The King of Jerusalem had lately married the niece of the Greek Emperor, and the latter promised to aid the expedition with his fleet. The help of the Knights Hospitalers was easily obtained, while (some said, on this account) that of the Knights Templars was refused. At length with a large and powerful army Almeric left Jerusalem, pretending that his destination was the Syrian town of Hems; but after a while his march was suddenly turned. In ten days he reached Pelusium; and the storm and capture of that city were followed by a wanton carnage which served to increase, if anything could increase, the reputation of the Christians for merciless cruelty. The prayers of the wazir Shawer for help were now directed as earnestly to the Turkish Sultan as they had once been to the Latin King of Jerusalem; but his envoys were also sent to Almeric offering him a million pieces of gold, of which a tenth part was produced on the spot.

Almeric took the bribe; and when his army looked for nothing less than the immediate sack of Cairo, they were told that they must remain idle while the rest of the money was being collected. The wazir took care that the gathering should not be ended before the soldiers of Noureddin had reached the frontier, and Almeric found too late that he was caught in the trap which his own greed had laid for him. He could himself do nothing but retreat, and his retreat was as disastrous as it was ignominious. The Greek fleet had shown itself off the mouths of the Nile, and had sailed away again. The Greek Emperor could not be punished; but a scapegoat for the failure of the enterprise was found in the grand master of the Hospitalers, who was deprived of his dignity by his knights.

The triumph of Shiracouh brought with it the fall of the wazir Shawer, who was seized and put to death, while the man whose aid he had invoked was chosen to fill his place. But Shiracouh himself lived only two months; and then by way of choosing one whose love of pleasure and lack of influence seemed to promise a career of useful insignificance, the Fatimite Caliph made the young Saladin his minister. The Caliph was mistaken. Saladin brought back his Kurds, and so used the treasures which his office placed at his command that the new yoke became stronger than the old one.

To the Latins the exaltation of Saladin signified the formation of a really formidable power on their southern frontier. Their alarm prompted embassies to the court of the Eastern Emperor and the princes of Western Christendom. But the time was not yet come for a third crusade; and only from Manuel was any help obtained. His fleet aided the Latins in a fruitless siege of Damietta; and a terrible earthquake which laid Aleppo in ruins and shattered the walls of Antioch saved them from attack by the army of Noureddin which was approaching from the north. Still, in spite of conspiracies or revolutions of the old nobility, the power of Saladin was growing, and at length he dealt with the mock sovereignty of the Fatimites as Pépin dealt with that of the Merovingians. The last Fatimite Sultan, then prostrate in his last illness, never knew that the public prayer had been offered in the name of the Caliph of Bagdad; but Saladin had the glory of ending a schism which had lasted two hundred years, and from Mostadhi, the vicar of the Prophet, he received the gift of a linen robe and two swords.

But the healing of one schism led only to the opening of another. Saladin was the servant of the Sultan of Aleppo, and he had been recognized and confirmed in office by Mostadhi strictly on the score of this lieutenancy. But the new wazir of Egypt had no mind to obey any longer the summons of his old master, and to his threat of chastisement Saladin in his council of emirs retorted by a threat of war. His vehemence was cooled when his own father declared before the assembly that, were he so commissioned by Noureddin, he would strike his son's head off from his shoulders. In private, he let Saladin know that his mistake lay not in thinking of resistance, but in speaking of it; and a letter sent by his advice sufficed for the present to smooth matters over. But the time of quietness could not last long. The designs of Saladin became continually more manifest, and Noureddin was on his way to Egypt when he was struck down by illness and died at Damascus.

The widow of Noureddin held the fortress of Paneas; and her husband's death encouraged Almeric to undertake the siege. A bribe to abandon it was at first refused. A fortnight later it was accepted; but Almeric returned to Jerusalem only to die. His life had lasted only five years longer than that of his predecessor Baldwin; but it had been long enough to win for him a reputation for consummate avarice and meanness. His son and successor, Baldwin IV, was a leper, and his disease made such rapid strides as to make it necessary to delegate his authority to another. His first choice fell on Guy of Lusignan, the husband of his sister Sibylla, but either the weakness of Guy or the quarrels of the barons brought everything into confusion, and Baldwin, foiled in his wish to annul his marriage, devised his crown to Baldwin, the infant son of Sibylla by her first marriage, Raymond II, Count of Tripoli, being nominated regent and Joceline of Courtenay the guardian of the child. But within three years the leper King died, followed soon after by the infant Baldwin V, and in the renewed strife consequent on these events Guy of Lusignan managed to establish himself, by right of his wife, King of Jerusalem. He was still quite a young man, but he had earned for himself an evil name. The murderer of Patric, Earl of Salisbury, he had been banished by Henry II from his dominions in France; and the opinion of those who knew him found expression in the words of his brother Geoffrey, "Had they known me, the men who made my brother king would have made me a god."

Guy was king; but Raymond of Tripoli refused him his allegiance. Guy besieged him in Tiberias, and Raymond made a treaty with Saladin. But Saladin was now minded to seize a higher prey. He was master of Syria and Egypt: he was resolved that the Crescent should once more displace the Cross on the mosque of Omar. Pretexts for the war were almost superfluous; but he had an abundance of them in the ravages committed by barons of the Latin kingdom on the lands and the property of Moslems. Fifty thousand horsemen and a vast army on foot gathered under his standard, when he declared his intention of attacking Jerusalem; but their first assault was on the castle of Tiberias. On hearing these ominous tidings Raymond of Tripoli at once laid aside all thought of private quarrels. Hastening to Jerusalem he said that the safety of his own city was a very secondary matter, and earnestly besought Guy to confine himself to a strictly defensive war, which would soon reduce the invader to the extremity of distress. The advice was wise and good; but the grand master of the Templars fastened on the very nobleness of his self-sacrifice and the disinterestedness of his counsel as proof of some sinister design which they were intended to hide.

Had it been Baldwin III to whom he was speaking, the insinuation would have been thrust aside with scorn and disgust. To the mean mind of Guy it carried with it its own evidence; and it was resolved to meet the Saracen on ground of his own choosing. The troops of Saladin were already distressed by heat and thirst when they encountered the Latin army from Jerusalem. The issue of the first day's fighting was undecided; but the heat of a Syrian summer night was for the Christians rendered more terrible by the stifling smoke of woods set on fire by the orders of Saladin. Parched with thirst, and well knowing that on the event of that day depended the preservation of the Holy Sepulchre, the crusaders at sunrise rushed with their fierce war-cries on the enemy. Before them the golden glory of morning lit up the radiant shores of the tranquil sea where the Galilean fisherman had heard from the lips of Jesus of Nazareth the word of life.

But nearer still was a memorial yet more holy, a pledge of divine favor yet more assuring. On a hillock hard by was raised the relic of the true cross, and this hillock was many times a rallying point during this bloody day. There was little of generalship perhaps on either side; and where men are left to mere hard fighting, numbers must determine the issue. The hosts of Saladin far outnumbered those of the Latin chiefs; and for these retreat ended in massacre. The King and the grand master of the Templars were taken prisoners; the holy relic which had spurred them on to desperate exertion fell into the hands of the infidels.

The victory of Saladin was rich in its fruits. Tiberias was taken. Berytos, Acre, Cæsarea, Jaffa opened their gates; Tyre alone was saved by the heroism of Conrad of Montferrat, brother of the first husband of Queen Sibylla. Not caring to undertake a regular siege, Saladin marched to Ascalon, and offered its defenders an honorable peace, which after some hesitation was accepted.

The rejection of Raymond's advice had left Jerusalem practically at the mercy of Saladin. It was crowded with people, but the garrison was scanty, and the armies which should have defended it were gone. Their presence would not, probably, have availed to give a different issue to the siege; but it must have added fearfully to its horrors. Saladin had made up his mind that the Latin kingdom must fall, and he would have fought on until either he or his enemies could fight no longer. Numbers, wealth, resources, military skill, instruments of war, all combined to give him advantages before which mere bravery must sooner or later go down; and protracted resistance meant nothing more than the infliction of useless misery.

Saladin may have been neither a saint nor a hero; but it cannot be denied that his temper was less fierce and his language more generous than that of the Christians who under Godfrey had deluged the city with blood. He had no wish, he said, so to defile a place hallowed by its associations for Moslems as well as Christians, and if the city were surrendered, he pledged himself not merely to furnish the inhabitants with the money which they might need, but even to provide them with new homes in Syria. But superstition and obstinacy are to all intents and purposes words of the same meaning. The offer, honorable to him who made and carrying no ignominy to those who might accept it, was rejected, and Saladin made a vow that entering the city as an armed conqueror he would offer up within it a sacrifice as awful as that by which the crusaders had celebrated their loathsome triumph. Most happily for others, most nobly for himself, he failed to keep this vow to the letter.

Fourteen days sufficed to bring the siege to an end. The Christians had done what they could to destroy the military engines of their enemies; the golden ornaments of the churches had been melted down and turned into money; but no solid advantage was gained by all their efforts. The conviction of the Christian that death brought salvation to the champions of the cross, the assurance of the Moslem that to those who fell fighting for the creed of Islam the gates of paradise were at once opened, only added to the desperation of the combatants and to the fearfulness of the carnage. At length the besieged discovered that the walls near the gate of St. Stephen had been undermined, and at once they abandoned all hope of safety except from miraculous intervention. Clergy and laity crowded into the churches, their fears quickened by the knowledge that the Greeks within the city were treating with the enemy.

The remembrance of Saladin's offer now came back with more persuasive power; but to the envoys whom they sent the stern answer was returned that he was under a vow to deal with the Christians as Godfrey and his fellows had dealt with the Saracens. Yet, conscious or unconscious of the inconsistency of his words with the oath which he professed to have sworn, he promised them his mercy if they would at once surrender the city. The besieged resolved to trust the word of the conqueror, as they could not resist his power. The agreement was made that the nobles and fighting men should be taken to Tyre, which still held out under Conrad; that the Latin inhabitants should be redeemed at the rate of ten crowns of gold for each man, five for each woman, one for each child; and that failing this ransom, they should remain slaves. On the sick and the helpless he waged no war; and although the Knights of the Hospital were among the most determined of his enemies, he would allow their brethren to remain for a year in their attendance on the sufferers who could not be moved away.

In the exasperation of a religious warfare now extended over nearly a century these terms were very merciful. It may be said that this mercy was the right of a people who submitted to the invader, and that in the days of Godfrey and Peter the Hermit the defenders had resisted to the last. It is enough to answer that the capitulation of the Latins was a superfluous ceremony and that Saladin knew it to be so, while, if the same submission had been offered to the first crusaders, it would have been sternly and fiercely refused.

Four days were allowed to the people to prepare for their departure. On the fifth they passed through the camp of the enemy, the women carrying or leading their children, the men bearing such of their household goods as they were able to move. On the approach of the Queen and her ladies in the garb and with the gestures of suppliants Saladin himself came forward, and with genuine courtesy addressed to them words of encouragement and consolation. Cheered by his generous language, they told him that for their lands, their houses, and their goods they cared nothing. Their prayer was that he would restore to them their fathers, their husbands, and their brothers. Saladin granted their request, added his alms for those who had been left orphans or destitute by the war, and remitted a portion of the ransom appointed for the poor. In this way the number of those who remained unredeemed was reduced to eleven or twelve thousand; and Saracenic slavery, although degrading, was seldom as cruel as the slavery which had but as yesterday been extinguished by the most fearful of recent wars.

The entry of Saladin into Jerusalem was accompanied by the usual signs of triumph. Amid the waving of banners and the clash of martial music he advanced to the Mosque of Omar, on the summit of which the Christian cross still flashed in the clear air. A wail of agony burst from the Christians who were present as this emblem was hurled down to the earth and dragged through the mire. For two days it underwent this indignity, while the mosque was purified from its defilements by streams of rosewater, and dedicated afresh to the worship of the one God adored by Islam. The crosses, the relics, the sacred vessels of the Christian sanctuaries, which had been carefully stowed away in four chests, had fallen into the hands of the conquerors, and it was the wish of Saladin to send them to the Caliph of the Prophet as the proudest trophies of his victory. Even this wish he generously consented to forego. The chests were left in the keeping of the patriarch, and the price put upon them, fifty-two thousand golden bezants, was paid by Richard of England.

Conrad still held out in Tyre, nor was he induced to surrender even when Saladin himself assailed its walls. The siege was raised; and the next personage to appear before its gates was Guy of Lusignan, who, having regained his freedom, insisted on being admitted as lord of the city. The grand master of the Templars seconded his demand. The reply was short and decisive. The people would own no other master than the gallant knight who had so nobly defended them. But the escape of Tyre had no effect on the general issue of the war. Town after town submitted to Saladin; and the long series of his triumphs closed when he entered the gates of Antioch.

Eighty-eight years had passed away since the crusaders of Godfrey and Tancred had stood triumphant on the walls of the Holy City; and during all those years the Latin kingdom had seldom rested from wars and forays, from feuds and dissensions of every kind. From the first it displayed no characteristics which could give it any stability; from the first it exhibited signs which foreboded its certain downfall.

It sanctified treachery, for it rested on the principle that no faith was to be kept with the unbeliever; and the sowing of wind by the constant breach of solemn compact made them reap the whirlwind. A right of pasturage round Paneas had been granted to the Mahometans by Baldwin III. When the ground was covered with their sheep the Christian troops burst in, murdered the shepherds, and drove away their flocks—not with the sanction, we may hope, of the most high-minded of the Latin kings of Jerusalem.

It recognized no title to property except in those who professed the faith of Christ, and the power to commit injustice with practical impunity tended still further to demoralize the people.

It gave full play to the passions of men in random wars and petty forays, while it did nothing to keep up or to promote either military science or the discipline without which that science becomes useless.

It was marked by an almost total lack of statesmanship. In a country so circumstanced a wise ruler would strain every nerve to conciliate the conquered people, to strengthen himself by alliances which should be firmly maintained and by treaties which should be scrupulously kept, to weaken such states as he might fail to win over to his friendship by anticipating combinations which might bring with them fatal dangers for his power. That the history of the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem presents a mournful and even ludicrous contrast to this picture it must surely be unnecessary to say. In the case of Egypt alone did the Latin kings show some sense of the course which prudence called upon them to take; and even here this course was followed with miserable indecision, and at last disgracefully abandoned through mere lust of gold.

It had to deal with an immorality not of its own creating, but which in mere regard to its own safety it should have striven to keep well in check. No such efforts were made, and the words of William of Tyre—even if taken with a qualification—when he speaks of the Latin women, point to a state of things which must involve grave and imminent peril.

It was the misfortune of this kingdom that it was called into being by troops of adventurers banded together—it cannot be said confederated—for a religious rather than a political purpose; in other words, for personal rather than for public ends. It started therefore without any principle of cohesion. The warriors who engaged in the enterprise might abandon it when they thought that they had fulfilled the conditions of their vow, and although the continuance of their efforts was indispensably needed for the military and political success of the undertaking.

The private and personal character of these enterprises led to the perpetuation and multiplication of private and personal interests, and thus to the endless divisions and feuds between the barons of the kingdom, which were a constant scandal and menace and which led frequently to deliberate treachery. It encouraged, or permitted, or was compelled to tolerate the growth of societies which arrogated to themselves an independent jurisdiction, and thus rendered impossible a central authority of sufficient coercive power. The origin of the military orders may have been in the highest degree edifying. The Knights Templars might begin as the humble guardians of the holy places: the Knights Hospitalers may have been the poor brothers of St. John bound to the service of the sick and helpless among the pilgrims of the cross. But in the land where they might at any time encounter a merciless or at the least a detested enemy, they were justified in bearing arms; the necessity of bearing arms involved the need of discipline; and the discipline of an enthusiastic fraternity cut off from the world and centred upon itself cannot fail to become formidable.

The natural strength of these orders was increased by immunities and privileges granted partly by the Latin kings of Jerusalem, but in greater part by the popes. The Hospitalers, as bestowing their goods to feed the poor and to entertain pilgrims, were freed from the obligation of paying tithe, or of giving heed to interdicts even if these were laid upon the whole country, while it was expressly asserted that no patriarch or prelate should dare to pass any sentence of excommunication against them. In other words, a society was called into existence directly antagonistic to the clergy, and an irreconcilable conflict of claims was the inevitable consequence. Nor can we be surprised to find the clergy complaining that the knights, not content with the immunities secured to themselves, gave shelter to persons who, not belonging to their order but lying under sentence of excommunication, sought to place themselves under their protection.

But if the Knights of the Hospital had thus their feuds with the clergy, they had feuds still more bitter with the rival order of the Templars. With different interests and different aims, the one sought to promote enterprises against which the other protested, or stickled about points of precedence when common decency called for harmonious action, or withheld its aid when that aid was indispensable for the very safety of the State. Thus we have the triple discord of the King and his barons struggling against the claims of the clergy, and the military orders in conflict with the barons and the clergy alike. Of a state so circumstanced the words are emphatically true that a house divided against itself shall not stand.

THE THIRD CRUSADE

A.D. 1189-1194

HENRY VON SYBEL

Although after the failure of the Second Crusade the interest felt by the western nations in the kingdom of Jerusalem, established by the first crusaders in 1099, had greatly diminished, still the news of the loss of the Holy City—which was taken by Saladin, Sultan of Egypt and Syria, in 1187—fell like a thunderbolt on men's minds. Once more the flame which had kindled the mystic war of God blazed high. "What a disgrace, what an affliction," cried Pope Urban III, "that the jewel which the second Urban won for Christendom should be lost by the third!" He vehemently exhorted the Church and all her faithful to join the war, worked day and night, prayed, sighed, and so wore himself out with grief and anger that he sickened and died in a few weeks. His successor, Gregory VIII, and afterward Pope Clement III, were inspired by the same feeling and exerted themselves for the great cause with untiring energy.

In 1185 a number of English barons had put on the cross on hearing of Saladin's menacing progress; toward the end of 1187 the heir to the throne, Richard, followed their example; some months later King Henry II had a meeting with his former enemy, Philip Augustus of France, at Gisors, where they vowed to abandon their earthly quarrels and become warriors of the everlasting God. Nearly the whole nobility and a number of the lower class of people were carried away by their example. King William of Sicily fitted out his fleet, and was only prevented by death from joining it himself. From Denmark, Scandinavian pilgrims thronged to Syria both by land and water. In Germany, now as formerly, the zeal was not so great, until in March, 1188, the emperor Frederick Barbarossa, at the age of near seventy, put on the cross, and by his ever firm and powerful will collected together a mass of nearly one hundred thousand pilgrims. All the western nations rose to arms.

The news of this enormous movement reached the East, and the ferocious war-cry of Europe was answered by a voice of defiance. Saladin had organized his dominions almost according to the western system. Under an oath of allegiance and service in war he granted to each of his emirs a town of feudal tenure; its surrounding land they again divided among their followers; the Sultan thus attached those wandering hordes of horsemen to the soil and kept those restless spirits permanently together. He then invoked the religious zeal of all the Mahometans with such success that volunteers flocked to his standard from every quarter.

These masses dispersed at the beginning of every winter, but on the return of fair weather they again collected in ever-increasing numbers. Saladin well knew the mutual hatred which divided the Greek Byzantines and the Latin Franks, and kept so securely alive in the Eastern Emperor, Isaac Angelus, the fear of the insolence of the western soldiers that he concluded an offensive and defensive alliance with Saladin against those who shared his own faith.

The leaders of the Third Crusade—Richard I ("the Lion-hearted"), King of England; Frederick I, surnamed "Barbarossa," of Germany, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire; and Philip Augustus, King of France—were the most powerful monarchs of Europe. A halo of false romance and glory, however, surrounds this crusade, mainly by reason of the associations connecting it with the self-seeker Richard. In the real conduct of the crusaders appears a sordid greed glutting itself with atrocities as savage as those perpetrated under Godfrey of Bouillon a century before. In Richard the world now sees a destroying "hero," one of the scourges of mankind. The son of Henry II, Richard became King of England in 1189. His chief ambition appears to have been the spread of his own renown, and this aim he sought to achieve in Palestine. He raised moneys by the sale of titles, lands, etc., and then started for the Holy Land. Modern history presents him, as well as his colleagues and followers, divested of the glamour which for centuries hung about the Third Crusade, of which the only heroic figure on the Christian side is the likewise pitiable Barbarossa.

The whole East, from the Danube to the Indus, from the Caspian Sea to the sources of the Nile, prepared with one intent to withstand the great invasion of Europe. Amid cares and preparations which had reference to three-quarters of the globe, Saladin neglected his nearest enemy, the feeble remnant of the Christian States in Syria, which, although unimportant in themselves, were of great consequence as landing-places for the invading western nations during the approaching war. The small principalities of Antioch and Tripoli still existed, and in the midst of the Turkish forces the marquis Conrad of Montferrat still displayed the banner of the cross upon the ramparts of Tyre.

It seems as if in this instance Saladin had abandoned himself too much to the superb and easy carelessness of his nature. Hitherto he had not shrunk from the most strenuous exertions; but he was so certain of his victory that he neglected to strike the final blow. Not until the autumn of 1187 did he begin the siege of Tyre; and for the first time in his life he found a dangerous adversary in Conrad of Montferrat, a man of cool courage and keen determination, whose soul was unmoved by religious enthusiasm, and equally free from weakness or indecision; so that under his command the inhabitants of the city repulsed every attack with increasing assurance and resolution.

Saladin hereupon determined to try starvation, which a strict blockade by sea and land was to cause in the town; but in June, 1188, the Sicilian fleet appeared, gave the superiority by sea to the Christians, and brought relief to Tyre. The Sultan retreated, and marched through the defenceless provinces of Antioch and Tripoli, but there too he left the capitals in peace upon the arrival of the Sicilian fleet in their waters. The following summer he spent in taking the Frankish fortresses in Arabia Petræa, the possession of which was important to him in order to secure freedom of communication between Egypt and Syria.

Meanwhile the reinforcements from the West were pouring into the Christian seaport towns. In the first place, the two military and religious orders, the Templars and the Knights of St. John, had collected munitions of war of every kind from all their European possessions, and increased the number of their mercenaries to fourteen thousand men. King Guy[31] also had ransomed himself from captivity and had gone to Tripoli, where by degrees the remnant of the Syrian barons, and pilgrims of all nations, gathered round him. They took the right resolution to remain no longer inactive, but with the gigantic preparations in Europe in prospect, to begin the attack at once.

On August 28, 1189, Guy commenced the siege of the strong maritime fortress of Ptolemais (St. Jean d'Acre). A fleet from Pisa had already joined the Sicilian one; in October there arrived twelve thousand Danes and Friesians, and in November a number of Flemings, under the Count of Avesnes, French knights under the Bishop of Beauvais, and Thuringians, under their landgrave, Louis. Saladin, roused from his inactivity by these events, hastened to the spot with his army, and in his turn surrounded the Christian camp, which lay in a wide semicircle round Ptolemais, and was defended by strong intrenchments within and without. It formed an iron ring round the besieged town, which Saladin, spite of all his efforts, could not break through. Each wing of the position rested upon the sea, and was thus certain of its supplies, and able to protect the landing of reinforcements, which continually arrived in constantly increasing numbers—Italians, French, English and Germans, Normans, and Swedes. "If on one day we killed ten," said the Arabs, "on the next, a hundred more arrived fresh from the West."

The fighting was incessant by land and by sea, against the town and against the Sultan's camp. Sometimes the Egyptian fleet drove the Christian ships far out to sea; and Saladin could then succor the garrison with provisions and fresh troops, till new Frankish squadrons again surrounded the harbor, and only a few intrepid divers could steal through between the hostile ships. On land, too, now one side and now the other was in danger. One day the Sultan scaled the Christian intrenchments, and advanced close to the walls of the city, before the Franks rallied sufficiently to drive him back by a desperate attack; but they soon took their revenge in a night sortie, when they attacked the Sultan in his very tent, and he narrowly escaped by rapid flight. Against the town their progress was very slow, as the garrison, under an able and energetic commander, Bohaeddin, showed itself resolute and indefatigable. One week passed after another, and the condition of the Franks became painfully complicated. They could go neither backward nor forward, they could make no impression on the walls; nor could they re-embark in the face of an active enemy. There was no choice but to conquer or die; so preparations were made for a long sojourn; wooden barracks, and for the princes even stone houses were built, and a new hostile town arose all around Ptolemais. In spite of this the winter brought innumerable hardships. In that small space more than a hundred thousand men were crowded together, with insufficient shelter, and uncertain supplies of wretched food; pestilential diseases soon broke out, which swept away thousands, and were intensified by the exhalations from the heaps of dead. Saladin retreated from their deadly vicinity to more airy quarters on the adjacent hills; his troops also suffered from the severe weather, but were far better supplied than the Christians with water, provisions, and other comforts, as the caravans from Cairo and Bagdad met in their camp, and numbers of merchants displayed in glittering booths all kinds of eastern wares.

It was an unexampled assemblage of the forces of two quarters of the world round one spot, unimportant in itself, and chosen almost by accident. Our own times have seen a counterpart to it in the siege of Sebastopol, which, though in a totally different form, was a new act in the same great struggle between the East and the West. Happily the western nations did not derive their warlike stimulus from religious sources, and they displayed, if not their military, at any rate, their moral superiority, in the most brilliant manner.

Although, in the fight around Ptolemais, the superiority was doubtless on Saladin's side, there was a moment in which Europe threatened to oppose to the mighty Sultan an antagonist as great as himself. In May, 1189, the emperor Frederick IX marched out of Ratisbon with his army for Syria. He had already ruled thirty-seven years over Germany and Italy, and his life had been one of war and labor, of small results, but growing fame. He was born a ruler in the highest sense of the word; he possessed all the attributes of power; bold yet cautious, courageous and enduring, energetic and methodical, he towered proudly above all who surrounded him, and had the highest conception of his princely calling. But his ideas were beyond his time, and while he tried to open the way for a distant future, he was made to feel the penalty of running counter to the inclination of the present generation. It seemed to him unbearable that the Emperor, who was extolled by all the world as the defender of the right and the fountain-head of law, should be forced to bow before unruly vassals or unlimited ecclesiastical power. He had, chiefly from the study of the Roman law, conceived the idea of a state complete within itself, and strong in the name of the common weal, a complete contrast to the existing condition of Europe, where all the monarchies were breaking up, and the crowned priest reigned supreme over a crowd of petty princes.

Under these circumstances he appeared foreshadowing modern thoughts deep in the Middle Ages, like a fresh mountain breeze, dispersing the incense-laden atmosphere of the time. This discrepancy caused the greatness and the misfortune of the mighty Emperor. The current of his time set full against him. When, as the representative of the State, he enforced obedience to the law, he appeared to some an impious offender against the Holy Church; to others, a tyrant trampling on the general freedom; and while conquering in a hundred fights, he was driven from one position after another by the force of opinion. But so commanding was the energy, so powerful the earnestness, and so inexhaustible the resources of his nature that he was as terrible to his foes on the last day as on the first, passionless and pitiless, never distorted by cruelty, and never melted by pity, an iron defender of his imperial rights.

We can only guess at the reasons which may have induced a sovereign of this stamp to leave a sphere of domestic activity for the fantastic wars of the crusades. Once, in the midst of his Italian feud, when the deeds of Alexander the Great were read aloud to him, he exclaimed: "Happy Alexander, who didst never see Italy! happy I had I never been in Asia!" Whether piety or love of fame ultimately decided him, he felt within himself the energy to take a great decision, and at once proceeded to action. The aged Emperor once more displayed in this last effort the fulness of his powerful and ever-youthful nature. For the first time during these wars, since the armed pilgrimages had begun, Europe beheld a spirit conscious of their true object, and capable of carrying it out. The army was smaller than any of the former ones, consisting of twenty thousand knights and fifty thousand squires and foot soldiers; but it was guided by one inflexible, indomitable will. With strict discipline, the imperial leader drove all disorderly and useless persons out of his camp; he was always the first to face every obstacle or danger, and showed himself equal to all the political or military difficulties of the expedition. The Greek empire had to be traversed first, whose Emperor, Isaac, had allied himself with Saladin; but at the sight of these formidable masses he shrank in terror from any hostile attempt, and hastened to transport the German army across into Asia Minor.

There they hoped for a friendly reception from the Emir of Iconium, who was reported to have a leaning toward Christianity; but in the mean time the old ruler had been dethroned by his sons, who opposed the Germans with a strong force. They were destined to feel the weight of the German arm. After their mounted bowmen had harassed the Christian troops for a time with a shower of arrows, the Emperor broke their line of battle, and scattered them by a sudden attack of cavalry in all directions, while at the same moment Frederick's son unexpectedly scaled the walls of their city. The crusaders then marched in triumph to Cilicia; the Armenians already yielded submissively to a cessation of hostilities; and far and wide throughout Turkish Syria went the dread of Frederick's irresistible arms. Even Saladin himself, who had boldly defied the disorderly attacks of the hundreds of thousands before Ptolemais, now lost all hope, and announced to his emirs his intention of quitting Syria on Frederick's arrival, and retreating across the Euphrates.

On this every highway in the country became alive, the emirs quitted their towns, and began to fly with their families, their goods, and chattels, and hope rose high in the Christian camp. This honor was reserved for the Emperor; that which no other Frankish sword could achieve he had done by the mere shadow of his approach; he had forced from Saladin a confession of inferiority. But he was not destined to see the realization of his endeavors here, any more than in Europe. His army had entered Cilicia, and was preparing to cross the rapid mountain stream of the Seleph. On June 10, 1190, they marched slowly across the narrow bridge, and the Emperor, impatient to get to the front, urged his horse into the stream, intending to swim to the opposite shore. The raging waters suddenly seized him, and hurried him away before the eyes of the people. When he was drawn out, far down the river, he was a corpse.

Boundless lamentations resounded throughout the army; the most brilliant ornament and sole hope of Christendom was gone; the troops arrived at Antioch in a state of the deepest dejection. From thence a number of the pilgrims returned home, scattered and discouraged, and a pestilence broke out among the rest, which was fatal to the greater number of them. It seemed, says a chronicler, "as though the members would not outlive their head." The Emperor's son, Duke Frederick of Swabia, reached the camp before Ptolemais with five thousand men, instituted there the Order of the Teutonic Knights—who were destined hereafter to found a splendid dominion on the distant shores of the German Ocean—and soon afterward followed his father to the grave.

The highest hopes were soon destroyed by this lamentable downfall. It seemed as if a stern fate had resolved to give the Christian world a distant view of the possibility of victory; the great Emperor might have secured it, but the generation which had not understood him was doomed to misery and defeat. A second winter, with the same fearful additions of hunger and sickness, came upon the camp before Ptolemais, and the measure of misfortune was filled by renewed and bitter quarrels among the Frankish princes. King Guy was as incompetent as ever, and so utterly mismanaged the Christian cause that the marquis Conrad of Montferrat indignantly opposed him. Queen Sibylla, by marriage with whom Guy had gained possession of the crown, died just at this juncture. Conrad instantly declared that Sibylla's sister Eliza was the only rightful heir, and, as he held every step toward advancement to be laudable, did not for a moment scruple to elope with her from her husband, to marry her himself, and to lay claim to the crown.

Amid all this confusion and disaster the eyes of the crusaders turned with increasing anxiety toward the horizon, to catch a glimpse of the sails which were to bring to them two fresh leaders, the kings of France and of England. Their preparations had not been very rapid. Henry II of England had, even since his oath, got into a new quarrel with Philip Augustus of France, which only ended with his death, in 1189. His son and successor, Richard, whose zeal had led him to put up the cross earlier than the rest, instantly began to arrange the expedition with Philip. In his impetuous manner he exulted in the prospect of unheard-of triumphs; the government of England was hastily and insufficiently provided for during the absence of the King; above all, money was needed in great quantities, and raised by every expedient, good or bad. When someone remonstrated with the King concerning these extortions, he exclaimed, "I would sell London itself, if I could but find a purchaser." He legislated with the same inconsiderate vehemence as to the discipline and order of his army: murderers were to be buried alive on land, and at sea to be tied to the corpses of their victims and thrown into the water; thieves were to be tarred and feathered; and whoever gambled for money, be he king or baron, was to be dipped three times in the sea, or flogged naked before the whole army.

Richard led his army through France, and went on board his splendid fleet at Marseilles, while Philip sailed from Genoa in hired vessels. Half way to Sicily, however, Richard got tired of the sea voyage, landed near Rome, and journeyed with a small retinue through the Abruzzi and Calabria, already on the lookout for adventures, and often engaged in bloody quarrels with the peasants of the mountain villages. When he at last arrived in Sicily his unstable mind suddenly underwent a total change; a quarrel with the Sicilian King, Tancred, drove the Holy Sepulchre entirely out of his head. Now fighting, now negotiating, he stayed nine months at Messina—hated and feared by the inhabitants, who called him the Lion, the Savage Lion—deaf to the entreaties of his followers, who were eager to get to Syria, and heedless and defiant to all Philip Augustus' representations and demands.

At last the French King, losing patience, sailed without him, and arrived at Ptolemais in April, 1191. He was received with eager joy, but did not succeed in at all advancing the siege operations; for so many of the French pilgrims had preceded him that the army he brought was but small, and, though an adroit and cunning diplomatist, a tried and unscrupulous statesman, he lacked the rough soldierly vigor and bravery on which everything at that moment depended. At length Richard was again on his road, and again he allowed himself to be turned aside from his purpose. One of his ships, which bore his betrothed bride, had stranded on the Cyprian coast, and, in consequence of the hostility of the king of that island, had been very inhospitably received. Richard was instantly up in arms, declared war against the Comnene,[32] and conquered the whole island in a fortnight—an impromptu conquest, which was of the highest importance to the Christian party in the East for centuries after.

Still occupied in establishing a military colony of his knights, he was surprised by a visit from King Guy, of Jerusalem, who wished to secure the support of the dreaded monarch in his party contests at home. Guy complained to King Richard of the matrimonial offences of his rival, informed him that Philip Augustus had declared in favor of Conrad's claims, and on the spot secured the jealous adherence of the English monarch. He landed on June 8th at Ptolemais; the Christians celebrated his arrival by an illumination of the camp: and without a moment's delay, by his warlike ardor, he roused the whole army out of the state of apathy into which it had lately fallen. Day after day the walls of the city were energetically assailed on every side. On July 8th Saladin made his last attempt to raise the siege, by an attack on the Christian intrenchments; he was driven back with great loss, whereupon he permitted the besieged to capitulate. The town surrendered, with all its stores, after a siege of nearly three years' duration; the heroic defenders still remaining, about three thousand in number, were to be exchanged within the space of forty days, for two thousand captive Christians, and a ransom of two hundred thousand pieces of gold. The war, according to all reports, had by this time cost the crusaders above thirty thousand men.

Those among the pilgrims who were enthusiastic and devout now hoped their way would lead straight to the Holy Sepulchre. But it soon became manifest that the feeling which had prompted the crusades was dead forever. The news of the fall of Jerusalem had awakened a momentary excitement in the western nations, but had failed to stir up the old enthusiasm. On Syrian ground, the ideal faith rapidly gave way before substantial worldly considerations. Richard, Guy, and the Pisans, on the one hand; Philip, Conrad, and the Genoese, on the other, were already in open discord, which was so embittered by Richard's blustering fury that Philip Augustus embarked at the end of July for France, declaring upon his oath that he had no evil intentions toward England, but determined in his heart to let Richard feel his resentment on the first opportunity.

Meanwhile negotiations had begun between Saladin and Richard, which at first seemed to promise favorable results for the Christians, but unfortunately the day fixed for the exchange of the prisoners arrived before Saladin was able to procure the whole of the promised ransom. Richard, with the most brutal cruelty, slaughtered two thousand seven hundred prisoners in one day. Saladin magnanimously refused the demands of his exasperated followers for reprisals, but of course there could be no further question of a treaty, and the war recommenced with renewed fury. Richard led the army on an expedition against Ascalon, defeated Saladin on his march thither at Arsuf, and advanced amid incessant skirmishes and single combats, into which he recklessly plunged as though he had been a simple knight-errant. Accordingly his progress was so slow that Saladin had destroyed the town before his arrival and rendered its capture worthless to the Christians. Again negotiations were begun, but in January, 1192, Richard suddenly advanced upon Jerusalem, and by forced marches quickly reached Baitnuba, a village only a few miles distant from the Holy City. But there the Sultan had thrown up strong and extensive fortifications, and after long and anxious deliberations, the Franks returned toward Ascalon.

Meanwhile Conrad of Montferrat had placed himself in communication with Saladin, proposed to him point-blank an alliance against Richard, and by his prudent and consistent conduct daily grew in favor with the Sultan. The Christian camp, on the other hand, was filled with ever-increasing discord; and the difference between Richard and Conrad reached such a height that the Marquis went back to Ptolemais, and regularly besieged the Pisans, who were friendly to the English. Into such a miserable state of confusion had the great European enterprise fallen for want of a good leader and an adequate object.

In April news came from England that the King's brother, John, was in open rebellion against him and in alliance with France; whereupon Richard, greatly alarmed, informed the barons that he must prepare for his departure, and that they must definitively choose between Guy and Conrad as their future ruler. To his great disappointment, the actual necessities of the case triumphed over all party divisions, and all voted for Conrad, as the only able and fitting ruler in the country. Nothing remained for Richard but to accede to their wishes, and as a last act of favor toward Guy, to bestow upon him the crown of Cyprus. Conrad did not delay one moment signing the treaty with Saladin, and the Sultan left the new King in possession of the whole line of coast taken by the crusaders, and also ceded to him Jerusalem, where, however, he was to allow a Turkish mosque to exist; the other towns of the interior were then to be divided between the two sovereigns.

What a conclusion to a war in which the whole world had been engaged, and had made such incalculable efforts! After the only competent leader had been snatched from the Christians by an angry fate, the weakness and desultoriness of the others had destroyed the fruits of conquest. The host of devout pilgrims had beheld Jerusalem from Baitnuba, and had then been obliged to turn their backs upon the holy spot in impotent grief. Suddenly a nameless, bold, and cunning prince made his appearance in this great war between the two religions in the world, a man indifferent to religion or morality, who knew no other motive than selfishness, but who followed that with vigor and consistency, and had already stretched forth his hand to grasp the crown of the Holy Sepulchre.

But on the 28th of April Conrad was murdered by two Saracen assassins; many said, at King Richard's instigation, but more affirmed it was by the order of the Old Man of the Mountain, the head of a fanatical sect in Lebanon. Everything was again unsettled by this event. The Syrian barons instantly elected Count Henry of Champagne as their king; five days after Conrad's death he married his widow Eliza, and was perfectly ready to succeed to Conrad's alliance with Saladin, as well as to his wife. But King Richard, with his usual thoughtlessness, allowed the scandalous marriage, but prevented the reasonable diplomatic arrangement. As he had a certain liking for Henry, who was his nephew, he wished to conquer a few more provinces for him in a hurry, and to win some fresh laurels for himself at the same time; and accordingly began the war anew against Saladin. A Turkish fortress was taken, when more evil tidings arrived from England, and Richard announced that he could not remain a moment longer. The barons broke out in a general cry of indignation that he who had plunged them into danger should forsake them in the midst of it, and once more the vacillating King allowed himself to be diverted from his purpose. Again the Christians remained long inactive at Baitnuba, not daring to attack the city.

The ultimate reason for this delay was illustrative of the state of things. The leaders knew that the great mass of pilgrims would disperse as soon as their vows were fulfilled by the deliverance of the Holy Sepulchre; this would seal the destruction of the Frankish rule in Syria, should it happen before the treaty of peace with Saladin was concluded. Thus the ostensible object of the crusade could not be achieved without ruining Christianity in the East. It is impossible to give a stronger illustration of the hopelessness and internal conflict of all their views and endeavors at that time. They at last turned back disheartened to Ramla, where they were startled by the news that Saladin had unexpectedly assumed the offensive, attacked the important seaport town of Jaffa, and was probably already in possession of it.

Richard's warlike impetuosity once more burst forth. With a handful of followers he put to sea and hastened to Jaffa. When he came in sight of the harbor, the Turks were already inside the town, plundering in every direction, and assailing the last remains of the garrison. After a short reconnoitre Richard drove his vessel on shore, rushed with an echoing war-cry into the midst of the enemy's superior force, and by his mighty blows actually drove the Turks in terror and confusion out of the place. On the following day he encamped with contemptuous insolence outside the gates with a few hundred horsemen, when he was suddenly attacked by as many thousands. In one instant he was armed, drove back the foremost assailants, clove a Turk's head down to his shoulders, and then rode along the wavering front of the enemy, from one wing to the other. "Now," cried he, "who will dare a fight for the honor of God?" Henceforth his fame was such that, years after, Turkish mothers threatened their children with "King Richard is coming!" and Turkish riders asked their shying horses if "they saw the Lion-hearted King."

But these knightly deeds did not advance the war at all. It was fortunate for the Franks that Saladin's emirs were weary of the long strife, and the Sultan himself wished for the termination of hostilities in consequence of his failing health. The favorable terms of the former treaty, more especially the possession of Jerusalem, were of course no longer to be obtained. The Christians were obliged to be content, on August 30, 1192, with a three-years' armistice, according to which the sea-coast from Antioch to Joppa was to remain in the possession of the Christians, and the Franks obtained permission to go to Jerusalem as unarmed pilgrims, to pray at the Holy Sepulchre. Richard embarked directly, without even taking measures for ransoming the prisoners.

As may easily be imagined, the Christians were deeply exasperated by such a peace; the Turks rejoiced, and only Saladin looked forward with anxiety to the future, and feared dangerous consequences from the duration of even the smallest Christian dominion in the East. The most active and friendly intercourse, rarely disturbed by suspicion, soon began between the two nations. On the very scene of the struggle mutual hatred had subsided, commercial relations were formed, and political negotiations soon followed. In the place of the mystic trophy which was the object of the religious war, Europe had gained an immense extension of worldly knowledge and of wealth from the struggle of a hundred years.

THE TEUTONIC KNIGHTS

THEIR ORGANIZATION AND HISTORY

A.D. 1190-1809

F.C. WOODHOUSE

Scarcely less renowned than the Knights Templars, the Teutonic Knights carried the spirit and traditions of the great military religious orders of the Middle Ages far into the modern period. No earlier date for the foundation of the order than 1190 is given on recognized authority, its actual beginning, like that of the other orders of its kind, being humble and obscure.

It appears that about 1128 a wealthy German, having participated in the siege and capture of Jerusalem, settled there, and soon began to show pity for his unfortunate countrymen among the pilgrims who came, receiving some of them into his own house to be cared for. When the work became too great for him there, he built a hospital, in which he devoted himself to nursing sick pilgrims, to whose support he likewise gave all his wealth. Still the task outgrew the means at his command, and in order to increase his charity he began to solicit alms. While he took care of the men, his wife performed a like service for poor women pilgrims.

Soon they were joined by many of their wealthier countrymen who had come to fight for the Holy Land. Presently they "banded themselves together, after the pattern of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, and united the care of the sick and poor with the profession of arms in their defence, under the title of Hospitalers of the Blessed Virgin." These Teutonic Hospitalers continued their work, in hospital and field, until the capture of Jerusalem by Saladin in 1187, and the conqueror, in recognition of their benevolent services, consented that some of them should remain there and continue their work. Out of these lowly beginnings grew one of the most powerful and widespread of the military religious orders.

It was during the siege of Acre, 1189-1191, that the Teutonic Order received its final and complete organization as one of the great military religious orders of Europe. The German soldiers suffered great miseries from sickness and from their wounds, and as their language was not understood by the French and other European contingents of the crusading army, they were left untended and friendless. To meet this want, some citizens of Bremen and Lubeck provided a sort of field hospital, and devoted themselves to the care of their wounded and sick countrymen. These were soon joined by others, and by the brethren of the Hospital of the Blessed Virgin at Jerusalem, whom Saladin had banished from the city, and the little body came to be known by the designation of the Teutonic Knights of the Hospital of the Blessed Virgin at Jerusalem.

It is said that the order owed its constitution to Frederick, Duke of Swabia; but there is much obscurity, and little authentic record to determine this or to furnish particulars of the transaction.

The order seems, however, to have been confirmed by Pope Celestine III, the constitution and rules of the Templars and Hospitalers being taken as the model for the new order, Henry de Walpot being the first master. This appears to have happened about 1190, though some authorities maintain that it was not till 1191 or even later. While, therefore, the three great orders had much in common, there was this difference in their original foundation. The Hospitalers were at first a nursing order, and gradually became military; the Templars were always purely and solely military; while the Teutonic Knights were from the first both military and nursing.

Contemporary chroniclers compare the Teutonic Knights with the mystic living creature seen by Ezekiel, having the faces of a man and of a lion, the former indicating the charity with which they tended the sick; the latter, the courage and daring with which they met and fought the enemies of Christ.

The Teutonic Knights continued their care of the sick soldiers till Acre was taken in July, 1191, by the united forces of Philip Augustus, King of France, and Richard Coeur de Lion, King of England. After the capture of Acre by the Christian army, Henry de Walpot purchased a site within the city, and built a church and hospital for his order, the first that it possessed. To these buildings were gradually added lodgings for the members of the order, for pilgrims, and for the soldiers which were enlisted to assist the knights in the field.

All this cost a large sum of money; but, as many wealthy Germans had enrolled themselves as knights, means were not wanting as the occasion for them occurred and the requirements of the order developed. Among the greatest of the earlier benefactors was Frederick, Duke of Swabia, who contributed money and aided the progress of the order by his influence, and, when he died at Acre, was interred in the church of the knights. Contemporary writers speak in the highest terms of his virtues, saying that he lived a hero and died a saint.

At this period and for the rest of its history, the constitution of the Teutonic order embraced two classes of members—the knights and the clergy—both being exclusively of German birth. The knights were required to be of noble family, and, besides the ordinary threefold monastic vows, took a fourth vow, that they would devote themselves to the care of the sick and to fight the enemies of the faith. Their dress was black, over which a white cloak with a black cross upon the left shoulder was worn. The clergy were not necessarily of noble birth, their duties being to minister to the order in their churches, to the sick in the hospitals and on the field of battle.

To these two classes, who constituted the order, were added serving brethren, called Heimlike and Soldner, and in Latin, Familiares. Many of these gave their services gratuitously from religious motives; others received payment and were really servants. The knights selected their esquires from among the serving brothers. All these wore a dress of the same color as the knights, that they might be known at once to belong to the order.

The original rules of the order were very severe. All the members lived in common; they slept in dormitories on small and hard beds; they took their meals together in the refectory, and their fare was meagre and of the plainest quality. They were required to attend the daily services in the church, and to recite certain prayers and offices privately. They were not permitted to leave their convent, nor to write or receive letters, without permission of their superior. Their clothes, armor, and the harness of their horses were all of the plainest description; all gold, jewels, and other costly ornaments being strictly forbidden. Arms of the best temper and horses of good breed were provided. When they marched to battle, each knight had three or four horses, and an esquire carried his shield and lance.

The grand master was elected from the class of the knights only. Next in rank to him was the preceptor, or grand commander, who had the general supervision of the clergy and serving brethren, and who presided in chapter in the absence of the grand master. Next to the preceptor came the marshal, who acted as lieutenant-general in the field of battle under the grand master. The third dignitary was the grand hospitaler, who had the superintendence of the hospitals and of all that related to their management. The fourth officer was the trappier, who supplied the knights with their clothing and accoutrements. And, lastly, there was the treasurer, who received and paid all the money that passed through the hands of the order. All these officers were removable, and were commonly changed every year.

As the order extended, new functionaries were required and were appointed; namely, provincial masters of the several countries where the order obtained possessions, who took rank next after the grand master; and there were also many local officers as particular circumstances required. The grand master was not absolute, but was obliged to seek the advice of the chapter before taking any important step, and if he were necessarily absent, he appointed a lieutenant to act for him, who also governed the order after the death of the grand master till his successor was elected.

After the death of Saladin disputes arose among his sons, and the opportunity was seized of commencing a new crusade, the history of which is well known, and in which the Teutonic Knights took an active part. At this time (1197) Henry VI, Emperor of Germany, gave the knights the monastery of the Cistercians, at Palermo, in Sicily, and several privileges and exemptions—a transaction that caused considerable disagreement between the Pope and the Emperor. The knights were, however, finally confirmed in possession of the monastery, and it became the preceptory or chief house of the order in Sicily, where other property was gradually bestowed upon the knights.

Henry de Walpot, the first grand master, died at Acre, in 1200, and was succeeded by Otho de Kerpen, who was an octogenarian at the time of his election, but full of vigor and energy, which he displayed by devoted attention to the duties of his office, and personal attendance upon the sick in the hospitals. During the mastership of Otho de Kerpen, an order of knighthood arose in the north of Europe, which was afterward incorporated with the Teutonic order. Livonia, a country situated on the borders of the Baltic, was at this time still pagan. The merchants of Bremen and Lubeck, who had trading relations with the inhabitants, desired to impart to them the truths and blessings of Christianity, and took a monk of the name of Menard to teach them the elements of the faith. The work succeeded, and Menard was consecrated bishop, and fixed his see at Uxhul, which was afterward transferred to Riga.

The mission, however, as it advanced, aroused the jealousy and suspicion of the pagan nobles, and they attacked and destroyed the new town, with its cathedral and other buildings. The Bishop appealed to his countrymen for help. Many responded to his call, and, as there was at that time no crusade in progress in Palestine, the Pope (1199) was persuaded to accord to those who took up arms for the defence of the Christians in Livonia the same privileges as were given to those who actually went to the Holy Land.

In consequence of these events a military religious order was founded, to assist in this war, called the Order of Christ, which was confirmed by Pope Innocent III, in 1205. The knights wore a white robe, upon which a red sword and a star were emblazoned. They maintained a vigorous and successful conflict with the heathen, till circumstances rendered it desirable that they should be incorporated with the Teutonic Knights.

In the mean time the Latins had seized Constantinople, and set up Baldwin, Count of Flanders, as emperor, and divided the Eastern Empire among themselves. The Teutonic Knights received considerable possessions, and a preceptory was founded in Achaia. Some time afterward another was established in Armenia, where also the order had obtained property and territory in return for service rendered in the field. The order also received the distinction of adding to their bearings the Cross of Jerusalem.

The valor of the knights, however, and the active part which they took in all the religious wars of the day, cost them dear, and from time to time their numbers were greatly reduced; so much so that when Herman de Salza was elected grand master (1210) he found the order so weak that he declared he would gladly sacrifice one of his eyes if he could thereby be assured that he should always have ten knights to follow him to battle with the infidels. The vigor of his administration brought new life to the order, and he was able to carry on its mission with such success that at his death there were no less than two thousand German nobles who had assumed the badge of the order and fought under its banner. Large accessions of property also came at this time to the knights in Hungary, Prussia, Livonia, and elsewhere.

In 1214 the emperor Frederick I decreed that the grand master should always be considered a member of the imperial court, that whenever he visited it he should be lodged at the Emperor's expense, and that two knights should always have quarters assigned them in the imperial household. In 1221 the emperor Frederick II, by an imperial act, took the Teutonic order under his special protection, including all its property and servants; exempted them from all taxes and dues; and gave its members free use of all pastures, rivers, and forests in his dominions. And in 1227 Henry commanded that all proceedings in his courts should be conducted without cost to the order. The King of Hungary also, seeing the valor of the knights, endeavored to secure his own possessions by giving them charge of several of his frontier towns.

It would be unnecessary, as it would be tedious, to repeat all the details of the crusades, the varying successes and defeats, in all of which the Teutonic Knights took part, both in Syria and in Egypt, fighting side by side with their brethren in arms, the Templars and Hospitalers. They continued also their humane services to the sick and wounded, as the following curious contemporary document shows. It forms part of a charter, obtained by one Schweder, of Utrecht, who says that, being at the siege of Damietta, "he saw the wonderful exertions of the brethren of the Teutonic Order, for the succor of the sick and the care of the soldiers of the army, and was moved to endow the order with his property in the village of Lankarn."

It was during the siege of Damietta that the famous St. Francis of Assisi visited the crusading army, and endeavored to settle a dispute that had arisen between the knights and the foot soldiers of the army, the latter being dissatisfied and declaring that they were unfairly exposed to danger as compared with the mounted knights.

In 1226 the grand master was selected by the emperor Frederick and Pope Honorius to be arbitrator in a dispute that had arisen between them. So well pleased were they with his honorable and wise counsel that, in recognition of his services, he and his successors were created princes of the Empire, and the order was allowed to bear upon its arms the Imperial Eagle. The Emperor also bestowed a very precious ring upon the master, which was ever afterward used at the institution of the grand master of the order. Again, in 1230, the Grand master was one of the principal agents in bringing about a reconciliation between the Emperor and Pope Gregory IX, whose dissensions had led to many troubles and calamities.

It has already been mentioned that the King of Hungary bestowed upon the knights some territory on the borders of his dominions, with a view to their defending it from the incursions of the barbarous tribes in the vicinity. The King's anticipations were amply realized. The knights maintained order in the disturbed districts, and by their presence put an end to the incursions of the predatory bands who came periodically to waste the country with fire and sword. The land soon smiled with harvests, and a settled and contented population lived in peace and quietness.

But no sooner were these happy results attained than the King took a mean advantage of the knights, and resumed possession of the country which they had converted from a desert to a fruitful and valuable district. The consequence was that the wild tribes renewed their invasions, and the reclaimed country once more lapsed into desolation. Then again the King made the border country over to the knights, who speedily reasserted their rights, and established a settled government and general prosperity in the dominion made over to them. This grant and some others that followed were confirmed to the order by the bull of Pope Honorius III in 1222.

A few years after this the Duke of Poland asked the aid of the order against the pagan inhabitants of the country that was afterward Prussia. These people were very savage and barbarous, and constantly committed horrible cruelties upon their more civilized neighbors, laying waste the country, destroying crops, carrying off cattle, burning towns, villages, and convents, and murdering the inhabitants with circumstances of extreme atrocity, often burning their captives alive as sacrifices to their gods. The grand master consulted with his chapter and with the Emperor on the proposed enterprise, and finally resolved to enter upon it, the Emperor undertaking to secure to the order any territory that they might be able to conquer and hold in Prussia. Pope Gregory IX, in 1230, gave his sanction to the expedition, and conferred on those concerned in it all the privileges accorded to crusaders.

In the following year an army invaded Prussia and erected a fortress at Thorn, on the Vistula, on the site of a grove of enormous oaks, which the inhabitants looked upon as sacred to their god Thor. This was followed, in 1232, by the foundation of another stronghold at Culm. A successful campaign followed, and the castle of Marienwerder, lower down the Vistula, was after some reverses and delays successfully built and fortified. The grand master then established a firm system of government over the conquered country, and drew up laws and regulations for the administration of justice, for the coining of money, and other necessary elements of civilization. Other fortified places were built which gradually developed into cities and towns. But all this was not effected without many battles and much patient endurance, and frequent defeats and checks.

Nor did the knights forget the spiritual needs of their heathen subjects. Mission clergy labored among them, and by their instruction, and still more by their holy, self-denying lives, they succeeded in winning many to forsake their idols and become Christians.

The order received an important accession to its ranks at this time (1237) by the incorporation into it of the ancient Order of Christ, in Livonia, which had considerable possessions. This was followed shortly afterward by an agreement between the order and the King of Denmark, by which the former undertook the defence of the kingdom against its pagan neighbors.

In 1234 the order received into its ranks Conrad, Landgrave of Thuringia and Hesse, a man who had led a wicked and violent life, but, being brought to see his errors, made an edifying repentance, and became a Teutonic Knight, and afterward was elected grand master. This Conrad was brother to Louis of Thuringia, who was the husband of St. Elizabeth of Hungary. After the death of Elizabeth, the hospital at Marburg, where she had passed the latter years of her widowhood in the care of the sick, was made over to the Teutonic Knights, and after her canonization a church was built to receive her remains, and placed under the care of the order.

In 1240 the knights received an earnest petition from the Duke of Poland, for aid against the Turks, who were ravaging his dominions, and by the enormous multitude of their hosts were able to defeat any army he could bring into the field. The knights accepted the invitation, and took part in a series of bloody and obstinate battles, in which they lost many of their number. They had also a new enemy to encounter in the Duke of Pomerania, who had been their ally, but who now sided with the Prussians against them. In the war that ensued the Duke was defeated, several of his strongholds were taken, and he was obliged to sue for peace.

A few years afterward, however (1243), the Duke recommenced hostilities, and with more success. Culm was besieged by him, and the greatest miseries were endured by the inhabitants, the slaughter being so great in the numerous conflicts before the walls that at last very few men remained. The Bishop even counselled the widows to marry their servants, that the population of the town might not become extinct. The war was continued for several years with varying fortune, till a peace was at last concluded, principally through the mediation of the Duke of Austria.

About this time a disputed election caused a schism in the order, and two rival grand masters for several years divided the allegiance of the knights, till Henry de Hohenlohe was recognized by both sides as master. During his term of office successful war was carried on in Courland and other neighboring countries, which resulted in the spread of Christianity and the advance of the power of the order. At the same time, the Teutonic order took part in the crusades in Palestine, and shared with the Templars and Hospitalers the successes and reverses there.

It would be tedious to enter upon all the details of the conflicts undertaken by the order against the Prussians and others; suffice it to say that the knights, though often defeated, steadily advanced their dominion, and secured its permanence by the erection of fortresses, the centres about which cities and towns ultimately arose. Among these were Dantzic, Koenigsberg, Elbing, Marienberg, and Thorn.

By the year 1283 the order was in possession of all the country between the Vistula and the Memel, Prussia, Courland, part of Livonia, and Samogitia; commanderies were established everywhere to hold it in subjection, and bishoprics and monasteries were founded for the spread of Christianity among the heathen population. In the contests between the Venetians and the Genoese, the Teutonic Knights aided the former, and in 1291, after the loss of Acre, the grand master took up his residence in Venice.

About this time the Pope originated a scheme for the union of the three orders of the Hospitalers, the Templars, and the Teutonic Knights, into one great order, purposing at the same time to engage the Emperor and the kings of Christendom to lay aside all their quarrels, and combine their forces for the recovery once for all of the Holy Land. Difficulties without number, which proved insuperable, prevented the realization of this scheme. Among these was the objection raised by the Teutonic Knights, that while the Hospitalers and Templars had but one object in view—the recovery of Palestine, their order had to maintain its conquests in the North of Europe, and to prosecute the spread of the true faith among the still heathen nations.

In 1309, when all hope of the recovery of the Christian dominion in the East had been abandoned, and no further crusades seemed probable, it was determined to remove the seat of the grand master from Venice to Marienberg. At a chapter of the order held there, further regulations were agreed upon for the government of the conquered countries, some of which are very curious, but give an interesting picture of the state of the people and of society at that period. Thus it was commanded that no Jew, necromancer, or sorcerer should be allowed to settle in the country. Masters who had slaves, and generally Prussians, prisoners of war, were obliged to send them to the parish church to be instructed by the clergy in the Christian religion. German alone was to be spoken, and the ancient language of the country was forbidden, to prevent the people hatching conspiracies, and to do away with the old idolatry and heathen superstitions. Prussians were not allowed to open shops or taverns, nor to act as surgeons or accoucheurs.

The wages of servants were strictly settled, and no increase or diminution was permitted. Three marks and a half a year were the wages of a carpenter or smith, two and a half marks of a coachman, a mark and a half of a laborer, two marks of a domestic servant, and half a mark of a nurse. Masters had the right to follow their runaway servants, and to pierce their ears; but if they dismissed a servant before the end of his term of service, they must pay him a year's wages. Servants were not allowed to marry during time of harvest and vintage, under penalty of losing a year's wages and paying a fine of three marks. No bargains were to be made on Sundays and festivals, and no shops were to be open on those days till after morning service.

Sumptuary laws of the most stringent nature were passed, some of which appear very singular. At a marriage or other domestic festival, officers of justice might offer their guests six measures of beer, tradesmen must not give more than four, peasants only two. Playing for money, with dice or cards, was forbidden. Bishops were to visit their dioceses every three years, and to aid missions to the heathen. Those who gave drink to others must drink of the same beverage themselves, to avoid the danger of poisoning, as commonly practised by the heathen Prussians. A new coinage was also issued.

The next half-century was a period of general prosperity and advance for the order. It was engaged almost incessantly in war, either for the retention of its conquests or for the acquisition of new territory. There were also internal difficulties and dissensions, and contests with the bishops. In 1308 the Archbishop of Riga appealed to Pope Clement V, making serious charges against the order, and endeavoring to prevail upon him to suppress it in the same way as the Templars had lately been dealt with. Gerard, Count of Holstein, however, came forward as the defender of the knights. A formal inquiry was opened before the Pope at Avignon in 1323. The principal charges brought forward by the Archbishop were, that the order had not fulfilled the conditions of its sovereignty in defending the Church against its heathen enemies; that it did not regard excommunications; that it had offered insolence to the Archbishop, and seized some of the property of his see, and other similar accusations. The grand master explained some of these matters, denied others, and produced an autograph letter of the Archbishop's, in which he secretly endeavored to stir up the Grand Duke of Lithuania to make a treacherous attack upon some of the fortresses of the knights. The end of the matter was that the case was dismissed, and there is little doubt that there were serious faults on both sides.

The times were indeed full of violence, cruelty, and crime. The annals abound with terrible and shameful records, bloody and desolating wars, and individual cases of oppression, injustice, and cruelty. Now a grand master is assassinated in his chapel during vespers; now a judge is proved to have received bribes, and to have induced a suitor to sacrifice the honor of his wife as the price of a favorable decision. Wealth and power led to luxury and sensuality, the weaker were oppressed, noble and bishop alike showing themselves proud and tyrannical. There are often two contradictory accounts of the same transaction, and it is impossible to decide where the fault really was, when there seems so little to choose between the conduct of either side.

The conclusion seems forced upon us that human nature was in those days much the same as it is now, and that riches and irresponsible authority scarcely ever fail to lead to pride and to selfish and oppressive treatment of inferiors. When we gaze upon the magnificent cathedrals that were rising all over Europe at the bidding of the great of those times, we are filled with admiration, and disposed to imagine that piety and a high standard of religious life must have prevailed; but a closer acquaintance with historical facts dissipates the illusion, and we find that then as now good and evil were mingled.

The history of the order for the next century presents little of interest. In 1388 two of the knights repaired to England by order of the grand master, to make commercial arrangements with that country, which had been rendered necessary by the changes introduced into the trade of Europe by the creation of the Hanseatic League. A second commercial treaty between the King of England and the order was made in 1409.

The order had now reached the summit of its greatness. Besides large possessions in Germany, Italy, and other countries, its sovereignty extended from the Oder to the Gulf of Finland. This country was both wealthy and populous. Prussia is said to have contained fifty-five large fortified cities, forty-eight fortresses, and nineteen thousand and eight towns and villages. The population of the larger cities must have been considerable, for we are told that in 1352 the plague carried off thirteen thousand persons in Dantzic, four thousand in Thorn, six thousand at Elbing, and eight thousand at Koenigsberg. One authority reckons the population of Prussia at this time at two million one hundred and forty thousand eight hundred. The greater part of these were German immigrants, since the original inhabitants had either perished in the war or retired to Lithuania.

Historians who were either members of the order or favorably disposed toward it, are loud in their praise of the wisdom and generosity of its government; while others accuse its members and heads of pride, tyranny, luxury, and cruel exactions.

In 1410 the Teutonic order received a most crushing defeat at
Tannenberg from the King of Poland, assisted by bodies of Russians,
Lithuanians, and Tartars. The grand master, Ulric de Jungingen, was
slain, with several hundred knights and many thousand soldiers.

There is said to have been a chapel built at Gruenwald, in which an inscription declared that sixty thousand Poles and forty thousand of the army of the knights were left dead upon the field of battle. The banner of the order, its treasury, and a multitude of prisoners fell into the hands of the enemy, who shortly afterward marched against Marienberg and closely besieged it. Several of the feudatories of the knights sent in their submission to the King of Poland, who began at once to dismember the dominions of the order and to assign portions to his followers. But this proved to be premature. The knights found in Henry de Planau a valiant leader, who defended the city with such courage and obstinacy that, after fifty-seven days' siege, the enemy retired, after serious loss from sorties and sickness. A series of battles followed, and finally a treaty of peace was signed, by which the order gave up some portion of its territory to Poland.

But a new enemy was on its way to inflict upon the order greater and more lasting injury than that which the sword could effect. The doctrines of Wycklif had for some time been spreading throughout Europe, and had lately received a new impulse from the vigorous efforts of John Huss in Bohemia, who had eagerly embraced them, and set himself to preach them, with additions of his own. Several knights accepted the teaching of Huss, and either retired from the order or were forcibly ejected. Differences and disputes also arose within the order, which ended in the arrest and deposition of the grand master in 1413. But the new doctrines had taken deep root, and a large party within the order were more or less favorable to them, so much so that at the Council of Constance (1415) a strong party demanded the total suppression of the Teutonic order. This was overruled; but it probably induced the grand master to commence a series of persecutions against those in his dominions who followed the principles of Huss.

The treaty that had followed the defeat at Tannenberg had been almost from the first disputed by both parties, and for some years appeals were made to the Pope and the Emperor on several points; but the decisions seldom gave satisfaction or commanded obedience. The general result was the loss to the order of some further portions of its dominions.

Another outbreak of the plague, in 1427, inflicted injury upon the order. In a few weeks no less than eighty-one thousand seven hundred and forty-six persons perished. There were also about this time certain visions of hermits and others, which threatened terrible judgments upon the order, because, while it professed to exist and fight for the honor of God, the defence of the Church, and the propagation of the faith, it really desired and labored only for its own aggrandizement.

It was said, too, that it should perish through a goose (oie), and as the word "Huss" means a goose in Bohemian patois, it was said afterward that the writings of Huss, or more truly, perhaps, the work of the goose-quill, had fulfilled the prophecy in undermining and finally subverting the order. There were also disputes respecting the taxes, which the people declared to be oppressive, and finally, in 1454, a formidable rebellion took place against the authority of the knights.

Casimir, King of Poland, who had long had hostile intentions against the order, secretly threw all his weight into the cause of the malcontents, who made such way that the grand master was forced to retire to Marienberg, his capital, where he was soon closely besieged. Casimir now openly declared war, and laid claim to the dominions of the knights in Prussia and Pomerania, formally annexing them to the kingdom of Poland.

The grand master sent petitions for aid to the neighboring princes, but without success. The kings of Denmark and Sweden excused themselves on account of the distance of their dominions from the seat of war. Ladislaus, King of Bohemia and Hungary, was about to marry his sister to Casimir, and the religious dissensions of Bohemia and the attacks of the Turks upon Hungary fully occupied his attention and demanded the employment of all his troops and treasure; and finally the capture of Constantinople by Mahomet at this very time (1458) seemed to paralyze the energies of the European powers.

The grand master, Louis d'Erlichshausen, thus found himself deserted in his time of need. He did what he could by raising a considerable body of mercenaries, and with these, his knights, and the regular troops of the order, he defended himself with courage and wonderful endurance, so that he not only succeeded in holding the city, but recovered several other towns that had revolted.

But his resources were unequal to the demands made upon them, his enemy overwhelmed him with numbers, his own soldiers clamored for their pay long overdue, and there was no prospect of aid from without. There was nothing left, therefore, to him but to make the best terms he could. He adopted the somewhat singular plan of making over Marienberg and what remained of the dominions of the order to the chiefs who had given him aid, in payment for their services, and he himself, with his knights and troops, retired to Koenigsberg, which then became the capital of the order. Marienberg soon afterward came into the hands of Casimir; but the knights again captured it, and again lost it, 1460.

War continued year after year between Poland and the knights, the general result of which was that the latter were defeated and lost one town after another, till, in 1466, a peace was concluded, by the terms of which the knights ceded to Poland almost all the western part of their dominions, retaining only a part of Eastern Prussia, with Koenigsberg for their capital, the grand master acknowledging himself the vassal of the King of Poland, with the title of Prince and Councillor of the kingdom.

In 1497 the order lost its possessions in Sicily through the influence of the Pope and the King of Aragon, who combined to deprive it of them. It still retained a house at Venice, and some other property in Lombardy. In 1511 Albert de Brandenberg was elected grand master. He made strenuous efforts to procure the independence of the order, and solicited the aid of the Emperor to free it from the authority of Poland, but without success. The grand master refused the customary homage to the King of Poland, and, after fruitless negotiations, war was once more declared, which continued till 1521, when peace was concluded; one of the results of which was the separation of Livonia from the dominion of the order, and its erection into an independent state.

All this time the doctrines of Luther had been making progress and spreading among all classes in Prussia and Germany. In 1522 the grand master went to Nuremberg to consult with the Lutherans there, and shortly afterward he visited Luther himself at Wittenberg. Luther's advice was decided and trenchant. He poured contempt upon the rules of the order, and advised Albert to break away from it and marry. Melancthon supported Luther's counsels. Shortly after, Luther wrote a vigorous letter to the knights of the order, in which he maintained that it was of no use to God or man. He urged all the members to break their vow of celibacy and to marry, saying that it was impossible for human nature to be chaste in any other way, and that God's law, which commanded man to increase and multiply, was older than the decrees of councils and the vows of religious orders. At the request of the grand master he also sent missionaries into Prussia to preach the reformed doctrines. One or two bishops and many of the clergy accepted them, and they spread rapidly among the people. Services began to be said in the vulgar tongue, and images and other ornaments were pulled down in the churches, especially in the country districts.

In 1525 Albert met the King of Poland at Cracow, and formally resigned his office as grand master of the Teutonic order, making over his dominions to the King, and receiving from him in return the title of hereditary Duke of Prussia. Shortly afterward he followed Luther's advice, and married the princess Dorothea of Denmark. Many of the knights followed his example. The annals and archives of the order were transferred to the custody of the King of Poland, and were lost or destroyed during the troubles that subsequently came upon that kingdom.

A considerable number of the knights refused to change their religion and abandon their order, and in 1527 assembled in chapter at Mergentheim to consult as to their plans for the future. They elected Walter de Cronberg grand master, whose appointment was ratified by the Emperor, Charles V. In the religious wars that followed, the knights fought on the side of the Emperor, against the Protestants. In 1595 the commandery of Venice was sold to the Patriarch and was converted into a diocesan seminary; and in 1637 the commandery of Utrecht was lost to the order. In 1631 Mergentheim was taken by the Swedes under General Horn.

In the war against the Turks during this period some of the knights, true to the ancient principles of their order, took part on the Christian side, both in Hungary and in the Mediterranean. In the wars of Louis XIV, the order lost many of its remaining commanderies, and by an edict of the King, in 1672, the separate existence of the order was abolished in his dominions, and its possessions were conferred on the Order of St. Lazarus.

When Prussia was erected into a kingdom, in 1701, the order issued a solemn protest against the act, asserting its ancient rights over that country. The order maintained its existence in an enfeebled condition till 1809, when it was formally abolished by Napoleon. In 1840 Austria instituted an honorary order called by the same name, and in 1852 Prussia revived it under the designation of the Order of St. John.

PHILIP OF FRANCE WINS THE FRENCH DOMAINS OF THE ENGLISH KINGS

A.D. 1202-1204

KATE NORGATE

When Richard "the Lion-hearted" died in 1199, he left no son to follow him on the throne of England and to claim possession of the vast French fiefs of the Plantagenet family. These fiefs, which covered more than half of France and made their undisputed lord more powerful than the French King himself, became at once a source of strife.

     John, nicknamed "Lackland," the youngest brother of Richard,
     succeeded him in England and in Normandy without dispute.
     But their little nephew Arthur was already Count of
     Brittany; and the other French possessions of the
     Plantagenets—Anjou, Maine, and Touraine—declared for
     Arthur in preference to John.

At this time France was ruled by Philip Augustus, who ranks among the shrewdest and ablest of all her monarchs. Dreading the vast power of the Plantagenets, he naturally sought to divide their domains by upholding Arthur. This unhappy lad, only twelve years old, was made a mere pawn in the savage game of his elders. His tragic fate is powerfully depicted by Shakespeare in his King John.

After some fighting and several sharp political moves and countermoves, John and Philip came to terms, May 18, 1200, by which the French King conferred almost all of the disputed fiefs on John. Constant bickering, however, continued. John had to do homage for his fiefs, and his French vassals took every opportunity to appeal from him to Philip, as their overlord.

     Finally, when the moment seemed propitious, Philip demanded
     from his overgrown vassal certain Norman castles as a sort
     of guarantee of good behavior. This led up to the war in
     which the Plantagenets lost all
their French domains, and became lords only of England.

It was arranged that John and Philip should hold a conference at Boutavant. John, it appears, kept—or at least was ready to keep—the appointment; but Philip either was, or pretended to be, afraid of venturing into Norman territory, and would not advance beyond Gouleton. Thither John came across the river to meet him. No agreement was arrived at. Finally, Philip cited John to appear in Paris fifteen days after Easter, 1202, at the court of his overlord the King of France, to stand to its judgment, to answer to his lord for his misdoings, and undergo the sentence of his peers. The citation was addressed to John as Count of Anjou and Poitou and Duke of Aquitaine; the Norman duchy was not mentioned in it. This omission was clearly intentional; when John answered the citation by reminding Philip that he was Duke of Normandy, and as such, in virtue of ancient agreement between the kings and the dukes, not bound to go to any meeting with the King of France save on the borders of their respective territories, Philip retorted that he had summoned not the Duke of Normandy, but the Duke of Aquitaine, and that his rights over the latter were not to be annulled by the accidental union of the two dignities in one person.

John then promised that he would appear before the court in Paris on the appointed day, and give up to Philip two small castles, Thillier and Boutavant, as security for his submitting to its decision. April 28th passed, and both these promises remained unfulfilled. One English writer asserts that thereupon "the assembled court of the King of France adjudged the King of England to be deprived of all his land which he and his forefathers had hitherto held of the King of France," but there is reason to think that this statement is erroneous, and derived from a false report put forth by Philip Augustus for political purposes two or three years later. It is certain that after the date of this alleged sentence negotiations still went on; "great and excellent mediators" endeavored to arrange a pacification; and Philip himself, according to his own account, had another interview with John, at which he used all his powers of persuasion to bring him to submission, but in vain. Then the French King, by the advice of his barons, formally "defied" his rebellious vassal; in a sudden burst of wrath he ordered the Archbishop of Canterbury—evidently one of the mediators just referred to—out of his territories, and dashing after him with such forces as he had at hand, began hostilities by a raid upon Boutavant, which he captured and burned. Even after this, if we may trust his own report, he sent four knights to John to make a final attempt at reconciliation; but John would not see them.

The war which followed was characteristic of both kings alike. Philip's attack took the form not of a regular invasion, but of a series of raids upon Eastern Normandy, whereby, in the course of the next three months, he made himself master of Thillier, Lions, Longchamp, La Fertéen-Braye, Orgueil, Gournay, Mortemer, Aumale, and the town and county of Eu. John was throughout the same period flitting ceaselessly about within a short distance of all these places; but Philip never came up with him, and he never but once came up with Philip. On July 7, 1202, the French King laid siege to Radepont, some ten miles to the southeast of Rouen. John, who was at Bonport, let him alone for a week, and then suddenly appeared before the place, whereupon Philip immediately withdrew. John, however, made no attempt at pursuit. According to his wont, he let matters take their course till he saw a favorable opportunity for retaliation. At the end of the month the opportunity came.

At the conclusion of the treaty in May, 1200, Arthur, after doing homage to his uncle for Brittany, had been by him restored to the guardianship of the French King. The death of the boy's mother in September, 1201, left him more than ever exposed to Philip's influence; and it was no doubt as a measure of precaution, in view of the approaching strife between the kings, that John on March 27, 1202, summoned his "beloved nephew Arthur" to come and "do right" to him at Argentan at the octave of Easter. The summons probably met with no more obedience than did Philip's summons to John; and before the end of April Philip had bound Arthur securely to his side by promising him the hand of his infant daughter Mary. This promise was ratified by a formal betrothal at Gournay, after the capture of that place by the French; at the same time Philip made Arthur a knight, and gave him the investiture of all the Angevin dominions except Normandy.

Toward the end of July Philip despatched Arthur, with a force of two hundred French knights, to join the Lusignans in an attack on Poitou. The barons of Brittany and of Berry had been summoned to meet him at Tours, but the only allies who did meet him there were three of the Lusignans and Savaric de Mauléon, with some three hundred knights. Overruling the caution of the boy-duke, who wished to wait for reinforcements from his own duchy, the impetuous southerners urged an immediate attack upon Mirebeau, their object being to capture Queen Eleanor,[33] who was known to be there, and whom they rightly regarded as the mainstay of John's power in Aquitaine. Eleanor, however, became aware of their project in time to despatch a letter to her son, begging him to come to her rescue. He was already moving southward when her courier met him on July 30th as he was approaching Le Mans. By marching day and night he and his troops covered the whole distance between Le Mans and Mirebeau—eighty miles at the least—in forty-eight hours, and appeared on August 1, 1202, before the besieged castle. The enemies had already taken the outer ward and thrown down all the gates save one, deeming their own valor a sufficient safeguard against John's expected attack. So great was their self-confidence that they even marched out to meet him. Like most of those who at one time or another fought against John, they underrated the latent capacities of their adversary. They were driven back into the castle, hotly pursued by his troops, who under the guidance of William des Roches forced their way in after the fugitives, and were in a short time masters of the place. The whole of the French and Poitevin forces were either slain or captured; and among the prisoners were the three Lusignans and Arthur.

Philip was at that moment busy with the siege of Arques; on the receipt of these tidings he left it and turned southward, but he failed, or perhaps did not attempt, to intercept John, who, bringing his prisoners with him, made his way leisurely back to Falaise. There he imprisoned Arthur in the castle, and despatched his victorious troops against Arthur's duchy; they captured Dol and Fougères, and harried the country as far as Rennes. Philip, after ravaging Touraine, fired the city of Tours and took the citadel; immediately afterward he withdrew to his own territories, as by that time John was again at Chinon. As soon as Philip was gone, John, in his turn, entered Tours and wrested the citadel from the French garrison left there by his rival; but his success was won at the cost of another conflagration, which, an English chronicler declares, was never forgiven him by the citizens and the barons of Touraine.

For the moment, however, he was in luck. In Aquitaine he seemed in a fair way to carry all before him without striking a blow. Angoulême had passed into his hands by the death of his father-in-law on June 17th. Guy of Limoges had risen in revolt again, but at the end of August or early in September he was captured. The Lusignans, from their prison at Caen, made overtures for peace, and by dint of protestations and promises succeeded ere long in regaining their liberty, of course on the usual conditions of surrendering their castles and giving hostages for their loyalty. It was almost equally a matter of course that as soon as they were free they began intriguing against John. But the chronic intrigues of the south were in reality—as John himself seems to have discovered—a far less serious danger than the disaffection in his northern dominions. This last evil was undoubtedly, so far as Normandy was concerned, owing in great measure to John's own fault. He had intrusted the defence of the Norman duchy to his mercenaries under the command of a Provençal captain—whose real name is unknown—who seems to have adopted for himself the nickname of Lou Pescaire ("the Fisherman")—which the Normans apparently corrupted into "Louvrekaire"—and who habitually treated his employer's peaceable subjects in a fashion in which other commanders would have shrunk from treating avowed enemies. Side by side with the discontent thus caused among the people there was a rapid growth of treason among the Norman barons—treason fraught with far greater peril than the treason of the nobles of Aquitaine, because it was more persistent and more definite in its aim; because it was at once less visible and tangible and more deeply rooted; because it spread in silence and wrought in darkness; and because, while no southern rebel ever really fought for anything but his own hand, the northern traitors were in close concert with Philip Augustus. John knew not whom to trust; he could, in fact, trust no one; and herein lay the explanation of his restless movements, his unaccountable wanderings, his habit of journeying through byways, his constant changes of plan. Moreover, besides the Aquitanian rebels, the Norman traitors, and the French enemy, there were the Breton partisans of Arthur to be reckoned with. These had now found a leader in William des Roches, who, when he saw that he could not prevail upon John to set Arthur at liberty, openly withdrew from the King's service and organized a league of the Breton nobles against him.

These Bretons, reinforced by some barons from Anjou and Maine, succeeded, on October 29, 1202, in gaining possession of Angers. It may have been to watch for an opportunity of dislodging them that John, who was then at Le Mans, went to spend a fortnight at Saumur and another at Chinon. Early in December, however, he fell back upon Normandy, and while the intruders were harrying his ancestral counties with fire and sword, he kept Christmas with his Queen at Caen, "faring sumptuously every day, and prolonging his morning slumbers till dinner-time." It seems that shortly afterward the Queen returned to Chinon, and that in the middle of January, 1203, the enemies at Angers were discovered to be planning an attempt to capture her there. John hurried to Le Mans, only stopping at Alençon to dine with Count Robert and endeavor to secure his suspected loyalty by confirming him in all his possessions. No sooner had they parted, however, than Robert rode off to the French court, did homage to Philip, and admitted a French garrison into Alençon. While John, thus placed between two fires, was hesitating whether to go on or to go back, Peter des Préaux succeeded in getting the Queen out of Chinon and bringing her to her husband at Le Mans; thence they managed to make their way back in safety to Falaise.

This incident may have suggested to John that it was time to take some decisive step toward getting rid of Arthur's claims. According to one English chronicler, some of the King's counsellors had already been urging this matter upon him for some time past. They pointed out that so long as Arthur lived, and was neither physically nor legally incapacitated for ruling, the Bretons would never be quiet, and no lasting peace with France would be possible. They therefore suggested to the King a horrible scheme for rendering Arthur incapable of being any longer a source of danger. The increasing boldness of the Bretons at last provoked John into consenting to this project, and he despatched three of his servants to Falaise to put out the eyes of the captive. Two of these men chose to leave the King's service rather than obey him; the third went to Falaise as he was bidden, but found it impossible to fulfil his errand. Arthur's struggles were backed by the very soldiers who guarded him, and the fear of a mutiny drove their commander, Hubert de Burgh, to prevent the execution of an order which he felt that the King would soon have cause to regret. He gave out, however, that the order had been fulfilled, and that Arthur had died in consequence.

The effect of this announcement proved at once the wisdom of Hubert and the folly of those to whose counsel John had yielded. The fury of the Bretons became boundless; they vowed never to leave a moment's peace to the tyrant who had committed such a ghastly crime upon their Duke, his own nephew, and Hubert soon found it necessary, for John's own sake, to confess his fraud and demonstrate to friends and foes alike that Arthur was still alive and uninjured. John himself now attempted to deal with Arthur in another way. Being at Falaise at the end of January, 1203, he caused his nephew to be brought before him, and "addressed him with fair words, promising him great honors if he would forsake the King of France and cleave faithfully to his uncle and rightful lord." Arthur, however, rejected these overtures with scorn, vowing that there should be no peace unless the whole Angevin dominions, including England, were surrendered to him as Richard's lawful heir. John retorted by transferring his prisoner from Falaise to Rouen and confining him, more strictly than ever, in the citadel.

Thenceforth Arthur disappears from history. What was his end no one knows. The chronicle of the Abbey of Margan in South Wales, a chronicle of which the only known manuscript ends with the year 1232, and of which the portion dealing with the early years of John's reign was not compiled in its present form till after 1221 at earliest, asserts that on Maunday Thursday (April 3, 1203), John, "after dinner, being drunk and possessed by the devil," slew his nephew with his own hand and tied a great stone to the body, which he flung into the Seine; that a fisherman's net brought it up again, and that, being recognized, it was buried secretly, "for fear of the tyrant," in the Church of Notre Dame des Prés, near Rouen. William the Breton, in his poem on Philip Augustus, completed about 1216, relates in detail, but without date, how John took Arthur out alone with him by night in a boat on the Seine, plunged a sword into his body, rowed along for three miles with the corpse, and then threw it overboard. Neither of these writers gives any authority for his story. The earliest authority of precisely ascertained date to which we can trace the assertion that Arthur was murdered was a document put forth by a personage whose word, on any subject whatever, is as worthless as the word of John himself—King Philip Augustus of France. In 1216—about the time when his Breton historiographer's poem was completed—Philip affected to regard it as a notorious fact that John had, either in person or by another's hand, murdered his nephew. But Philip at the same time went on to assert that John had been summoned to trial before the supreme court of France, and by it condemned to forfeiture of all his dominions, on that same charge of murder; and this latter assertion is almost certainly false. Seven months after the date assigned by the Margan annalist to Arthur's death—in October, 1203—Philip owned himself ignorant whether the Duke of Brittany were alive or not.[34] Clearly, therefore, it was not as the avenger of Arthur's murder that Philip took the field at the end of April. On the other hand, Philip had never made the slightest attempt to obtain Arthur's release; early in 1203, if not before, he was almost openly laying his plans in anticipation of Arthur's permanent effacement from politics.

The interests of the French King were in fact no less concerned in Arthur's imprisonment, and more concerned in his death, than were the interests of John himself. John's one remaining chance of holding Philip and the Bretons in check was to keep them in uncertainty whether Arthur were alive or dead, in order to prevent the Bretons from adopting any decided policy, and hamper the French King in his dealings with them and with the Angevin and Poitevin rebels by compelling him to base his alliance with them on conditions avowedly liable to be annulled at any moment by Arthur's reappearance on the political scene. If, therefore, Arthur—as is most probable—was now really dead, whether he had indeed perished a victim of one of those fits of ungovernable fury in which—and in which alone—the Angevin counts sometimes added blunder to crime, or whether he had died a natural death from sickness in prison, or by a fall in attempting to escape,[35] it would be equally politic on John's part to let rumor do its worst rather than suffer any gleam of light to penetrate the mystery which shrouded the captive's fate.

John's chance, however, was a desperate one. A fortnight after Easter, 1203, the French King attacked and took Saumur. Moving southward, he was joined by some Poitevins and Bretons, with whose help he captured sundry castles in Aquitaine. Thence he went back to the Norman border, to be welcomed at Alençon by its count, and to lay seige to Conches. John, who was then at Falaise, sent William the Marshal to Conches, to beg that Philip would "have pity on him and make peace." Philip refused; John hurried back to Rouen, to find both city and castle in flames—whether kindled by accident or by treachery there is nothing to show. Conches was taken; Vaudreuil was betrayed; the few other castles in the county of Evreux which had not already passed, either by cession, conquest, or treason, into Philip's hands shared the like fate, while John flitted restlessly up and down between Rouen and various places in the neighborhood, but made no direct effort to check the progress of the invader. Messenger after messenger came to him with the same story: "The King of France is in your land as an enemy; he is taking your castles; he is binding your seneschals to their horses' tails and dragging them shamefully to prison; he is dealing with your goods at his own pleasure." John heard them all with an unmoved countenance, and dismissed them all with the unvarying reply: "Let him alone! Some day I shall win back all that he is winning from me now."

It was by diplomacy that John hoped to parry the attack which he knew he could not repel by force. Early in the year he had complained to the Pope of the long course of insult and aggression pursued toward him by Philip, and begged Innocent to interfere in his behalf. Thereupon Philip, in his turn, sent messengers and letters to the Pope, giving his own version of his relations with John, and endeavoring to justify his own conduct. On May 26th, Innocent announced to both kings that he was about to despatch the abbots of Casamario, Trois Fontaines, and Dun as commissioners to arbitrate upon the matters in dispute between them.

These envoys seem to have been delayed on their journey; and when they reached France they, for some time, found it impossible to ascertain whether Philip would or would not accept their arbitration. When at last he met them in council at Mantes on August 26th, he told them bluntly that he "was not bound to take his orders from the apostolic see as to his rights over a fief and a vassal of his own, and that the matter in dispute between the two kings was no business of the Pope's." John meanwhile had, on August 11th, suddenly quitted his passive attitude and laid siege to Alençon; but he retired on Philip's approach four days later. An attempt which he made to regain Brezolles was equally ineffectual. Philip, on the other hand, was now resolved to bring the war to a crisis. It was probably straight from the council at Mantes that he marched to the siege of Château Gaillard.

Château Gaillard was a fortress of far other importance than any of the castles which both parties had been so lightly winning, losing, and winning again, during the last ten years. It was the key of the Seine above Rouen, the bulwark raised by Richard Coeur de Lion to protect his favorite city against attack from France. Not till the fortifications which commanded the river at Les Andelys were either destroyed or in his own hands could Philip hope to win the Norman capital. And those fortifications were of no common order. Their builder was the greatest, as he was the last, of the "great builders" of Anjou; and his "fair castle on the Rock of Andelys" was at once the supreme outcome of their architectural genius, and the earliest and most perfect example in Europe of the new development which the crusaders' study of the mighty works of Byzantine or even earlier conquerors, quickened and illuminated as it was by the exigencies of their own struggle with the infidels, had given to the science of military architecture in the East. During the past year John had added to his brother's castle a chapel with an undercroft, placed at the southeastern corner of the second ward. The fortress, which nature and art had combined to make impregnable, was well stocked with supplies of every kind; moreover, it was one of the few places in Normandy which Philip had no hope of winning, and John no fear of losing, through treason on the part of its commandant. Roger de Lacy, to whom John had given it in charge, was an English baron who had no stake in Normandy, and whose personal interest was therefore bound up with that of the English King; he was also a man of high character and dauntless courage. Nothing short of a siege of the most determined kind would avail against the "Saucy Castle"; and on that siege Philip now concentrated all his forces and all his skill.

As the right bank of the Seine at that point was entirely commanded by the castle and its neighbor fortification, the walled town—also built by Richard—known as the New or Lesser Andely, while the river itself was doubly barred by a stockade across its bed, close under the foot of the rock, and by a strong tower on an island in midstream just below the town, he was obliged to encamp in the meadows on the opposite shore. The stockade, however, was soon broken down by the daring of a few young Frenchmen; and the waterway being thus cleared for the transport of materials, he was enabled to construct below the island a pontoon, by means of which he could throw a portion of his troops across the river to form the siege of the New Andely, place the island garrison between two fires, and at once keep open his own communications and cut off those of the besieged with both sides of the river alike.

These things seem to have been done toward the end of August. On the 27th and 28th of that month John was at Montfort, a castle some five-and-twenty miles from Rouen, held by one of his few faithful barons, Hugh of Gournay. On the 30th, if not the 29th, he and all his available forces were back at Rouen, ready to attempt on that very night the relief of Les Andelys. The King's plan was a masterpiece of ingenuity; and the fact that the elaborate preparations needed for its execution were made so rapidly and so secretly as to escape detection by an enemy so close at hand goes far to show how mistaken are the charges of sloth and incapacity which, even in his own day, men brought against "John Softsword."[36]

He had arranged that a force of three hundred knights, three thousand mounted men-at-arms, and four thousand foot, under the command of William the Marshal, with a band of mercenaries under Lou Pescaire, should march by night from Rouen along the left bank of the Seine, and fall, under cover of darkness, upon the portion of the French army which still lay on that side of the river. Meanwhile, seventy transport vessels, which had been built by Richard to serve either for sea or river traffic, and as many more boats as could be collected, were to be laden with provisions for the distressed garrison of the island fort, and convoyed up the stream by a flotilla of small warships, manned by "pirates" under a chief named Alan and carrying, besides their own daring and reckless crews, a force of three thousand Flemings. Two hundred strokes of the oar, John reckoned, would bring these ships to the French pontoon; they must break it if they could; if not, they could at least coöperate with the Marshal and Lou Pescaire in cutting off the northern division of the French host from its comrades and supplies on the left bank, and throw into the island fort provisions which would enable it to hold out till John himself should come to its rescue.

One error brought the scheme to ruin, an error neither of strategy nor of conduct, but of scientific knowledge. John had miscalculated the time at which, on that night, the Seine would be navigable upstream, and his counsellors evidently shared his mistake till it was brought home to them by experience. The land forces achieved their march without hinderance, and at the appointed hour, shortly before daybreak, fell upon the French camp with such a sudden and furious onslaught that the whole of its occupants fled across the pontoon, which broke under their weight. But the fleet, which had been intended to arrive at the same time, was unable to make way against the tide, and before it could reach its destination the French had rallied on the northern bank, repaired the pontoon, recrossed it in full force, and routed John's troops. The ships, when they at last came up, thus found themselves unsupported in their turn, and though they made a gallant fight they were beaten back with heavy loss. In the flush of victory one young Frenchman contrived to set fire to the island fort; it surrendered, and the whole population of the New Andely fled in a panic to Château Gaillard, leaving their town to be occupied by Philip.

The Saucy Castle itself still remained to be won. Knowing, however, that for this nothing was likely to avail but a blockade, which was now practically formed on two sides by his occupation of the island fort and the Lesser Andely, Philip on the very next day set off to make another attempt on Radepont, whence he had been driven away by John a year before. This time John made no effort to dislodge him. It was not worth while; the one thing that mattered now was Château Gaillard. Thither Philip, after receiving the surrender of Radepont, returned toward the end of September, 1203, to complete the blockade.

No second attempt to relieve it was possible. It may have been for the purpose of endeavoring to collect fresh troops from the western districts, which were as yet untouched by the war, that John about this time visited his old county of Mortain, and even went as far as Dol, which his soldiers had taken in the previous year. But his military resources in Normandy were exhausted; the Marshal bluntly advised him to give up the struggle. "Sire," said William, "you have not enough friends; if you provoke your enemies to fight, you will diminish your own force; and when a man provokes his enemies, it is but just if they make him rue it."

"Whoso is afraid, let him flee!" answered John. "I myself will not flee for a year; and if indeed it came to fleeing, I should not think of saving myself otherwise than you would, wheresoever you might be."

"I know that well, sire," replied William; "but you, who are wise and mighty and of high lineage, and whose work it is to govern us all, have not been careful to avoid irritating people. If you had, it would have been better for us all. Methinks I speak not without reason."

The King, "as if a sword had struck him to the heart," spoke not a word, but rushed to his chamber; next morning he was nowhere to be found; he had gone away in a boat, almost alone, and it was only at Bonneville that his followers rejoined him. This was apparently at the beginning of October, 1203. For two months more he lingered in the duchy, where his position was growing more hopeless day by day. At the end of October, or early in November, he took the decisive step of dismantling Pont de l'Arche, Moulineaux, and Montfort, three castles which, next to Château Gaillard, would be of the greatest value to the French for an advance upon Rouen. To Rouen itself he returned once more on November 9th, and stayed there four days. On the 12th he set out for Bonneville, accompanied by the Queen, and telling his friends that he intended to go to England to seek counsel and aid from his barons and people there, and would soon return. In reality his departure from the capital was caused by a rumor which had reached him of a conspiracy among the Norman barons to deliver him up to Philip Augustus. At Bonneville, therefore, he lodged not in the town, but in the castle, and only for a few hours; the Marshal and one or two others alone were warned of his intention to set forth again before daybreak, and the little party had got a start of seven leagues on the road to Caen before their absence was discovered by the rest of the suite, of whom "some went after them, and the more part went back." Still John was reluctant to leave Normandy; he went south to Domfront and west to Vire before he again returned to the coast at Barfleur on November 28th, and even then he spent five days at Gonneville and one at Cherbourg before he finally took ship at Barfleur on December 5th, to land at Portsmouth next day.

It was probably before he left Rouen that he addressed a letter to the commandant of Château Gaillard in these terms: "We thank you for your good and faithful service, and desire that, as much as in you lies, you will persevere in the fidelity and homage which you owe to us; that you may receive a worthy meed of praise from God and from ourself and from all who know your faithfulness. If, however—which God forbid!—you should find yourself in such straits that you can hold out no longer, then do whatsoever our trusty and well-beloved Peter of Préaux, William of Mortimer, and Hugh of Howels, our clerk, shall bid you in our name."

An English chronicler says that John "being unwilling"—or "unable"—"to succor the besieged, through fear of the treason of his men, went to England, leaving all the Normans in a great perturbation of fear." It is hard to see what they feared, unless it were John's possible vengeance, at some future time, for their universal readiness to welcome his rival. Not one town manned its walls, not one baron mustered his tenants and garrisoned his castles, to withstand the invader. Some, as soon as John was out of the country, openly made a truce with Philip for a year, on the understanding that if not succored by John within that time they would receive the French King as their lord; the rest stood passively looking on at the one real struggle of the war, the struggle for Château Gaillard.

At length, on March 6, 1204, the Saucy Castle fell. Its fall opened the way for a French advance upon Rouen; but before taking this further step Philip deemed it politic to let the Pope's envoy, the Abbot of Casamario, complete his mission by going to speak with John. The abbot was received at a great council in London at the end of March; the result was his return to France early in April, in company with the Archbishop of Canterbury, the bishops of Norwich and Ely, and the earls of Pembroke and Leicester, all charged with a commission "to sound the French King, and treat with him about terms of peace." On the French King's side the negotiation was a mere form; to whatever conditions the envoys proposed, he always found some objection; and his own demands were such as John's representatives dared not attempt to lay before their sovereign—Arthur's restoration, or, if he were dead, the surrender of his sister Eleanor, and the cession to Philip, as her suzerain and guardian, of the whole Continental dominions of the Angevin house.

Finally, Philip dropped the mask altogether, and made a direct offer, not to John, but to John's Norman subjects, including the two lay ambassadors. All those, he said, who within a year and a day would come to him and do him homage for their lands should receive confirmation of their tenure from him. Hereupon the two English earls, after consulting together, gave him five hundred marks each, on the express understanding that he was to leave them unmolested in the enjoyment of their Norman lands for a twelvemonth and a day, and that at the expiration of that time they would come and do homage for those lands to him, if John had not meanwhile regained possession of the duchy. Neither William the Marshal nor his colleague had any thought of betraying or deserting John; as the Marshal's biographer says, they "did not wish to be false"; and when they reached England they seem to have frankly told John what they had done, and to have received no blame for it.

The return of the English embassy was followed by a letter from the commandant of Rouen—John's "trusty and well-beloved" Peter of Préaux—informing the English King that "all the castles and towns from Bayeux to Anet" had promised Philip that they would surrender to him as soon as he was master of Rouen, an event which, Peter plainly hinted, was not likely to be long delayed. This information about the western towns was probably incorrect, for it was on Western Normandy that Philip made his next attack. John meanwhile had in January imposed a scutage of two marks and a half per shield throughout England, and, in addition, a tax of a seventh of movables, which, though it fell upon all classes alike, the clergy included, he is said to have demanded expressly on the ground of the barons' desertion of him in Normandy.

The hire of a mercenary force was of course the object to which the proceeds of both these taxes were destined; but they took time to collect and John soon fell back upon a readier, though less trustworthy, resource, and summoned the feudal host of England to meet him at Portsmouth, seemingly in the first week of May. It gathered, however, so slowly that he was obliged to give up the expedition. Philip was about this time besieging Falaise; he won it, and went on in triumph to receive the surrender of Domfront, Séez, Lisieux, Caen, Bayeux, Coutances, Barfleur, and Cherbourg. He was then joined by John's late ally, the Count of Boulogne, as well as by Guy of Thouars, the widower of Constance of Brittany; and these two, their forces swelled by a troop of mercenaries who had transferred their services from John to Philip after the surrender of Falaise, completed the conquest of Southwestern Normandy, while the French King at last set his face toward Rouen. He was not called upon to besiege it, nor even to threaten it with a siege. On June 1, 1204, Peter de Préaux made in his own name, and in the names of the commandants of Arques and Verneuil, a truce with Philip, promising that these two fortresses and Rouen should surrender if not succored within thirty days. The three castellans sent notice of this arrangement to John, who, powerless and penniless as he was, scornfully bade them "look for no help from him, but do whatsoever seemed to them best." It seemed to them best not even to wait for the expiration of the truce; Rouen surrendered on June 24th, and in a few days Arques and Verneuil followed its example.

Thus did Normandy forsake—as Anjou and Maine had already forsaken[37]—the heir of its ancient rulers for the King of the French.

FOUNDING OF THE MONGOL EMPIRE BY GENGHIS KHAN

A.D. 1203

HENRY H. HOWORTH

The origin and early history of the Mongols are very obscure, but from Chinese annals we learn of the existence of the race, from the sixth to the ninth century, in regions around the north of the great desert of Gobi and Lake Baikal in Eastern Asia. The name Mongol is derived from the word mong, meaning "brave" or "bold." Chinese accounts show that it was given to the Mongol race long before the time of Genghis Khan. It is conjectured that the Mongols were at first one tribe of a great confederacy whose name was probably extended to the whole when the power of the imperial house which governed it gained the supremacy. The Mongol khans are traced up to the old royal race of the Turks, who from a very early period were masters of the Mongolian desert and its borderland. Here from time immemorial the Mongols "had made their home, leading a miserable nomadic life in the midst of a wild and barren country, unrecognized by their neighbors, and their very name unknown centuries after their kinsmen, the Turks, had been exercising an all-powerful influence over the destinies of Western Asia."

But at the beginning of the thirteenth century arose among them a chief, Genghis Khan, the "very mighty ruler," whose prowess was destined to lead the Mongolian hordes to the conquest of a vast empire, extending over China and from India through Persia and into Russia.

Who and what this mighty ruler was, and by what achievements he advanced to lay the foundations of his empire, are told by Howorth, not only with an authoritative fidelity to history, but with a literary art that is no less faithful in its appreciation of oriental character and custom.

Among the men who have influenced the history of the world Genghis Khan holds a foremost place. Popularly he is mentioned with Attila and with Timur as one of the "scourges of God," one of those terrible conquerors whose march across the page of history is figured by the simile of a swarm of locusts, or a fire in a Canadian forest; but this is doing gross injustice to Genghis Khan. Not only was he a conqueror, a general whose consummate ability made him overthrow every barrier that must intervene between the chief of a small barbarous tribe of an obscure race and the throne of Asia, and this with a rapidity and uniform success that can only be compared to the triumphant march of Alexander, but he was far more than a conqueror. Alexander, Napoleon, and Timur were all more or less his equals in the art of war. But the colossal powers they created were merely hills of sand, that crumbled to pieces as soon as they were dead.

With Genghis Khan matters were very different: he organized the empire which he had conquered so that it long survived and greatly thrived after he was gone. In every detail of social and political economy he was a creator; his laws and his administrative rules are equally admirable and astounding to the student. Justice, tolerance, discipline—virtues that make up the modern ideal of a state—were taught and practised at his court. And when we remember that he was born and educated in the desert, and that he had neither the sages of Greece nor of Rome to instruct him, that unlike Charlemagne and Alfred he could not draw his lessons from a past whose evening glow was still visible in the horizon, we are tempted to treat as exaggerated the history of his times, and to be sceptical of so much political insight having been born of such unpromising materials.

It is not creditable to English literature that no satisfactory account of Genghis Khan exists in the language. Baron D'Ohsson in French, and Erdmann in German, have both written minute and detailed accounts of him, but none such exists in English, although the subject has an epic grandeur about it that might well tempt some well-grounded scholar to try his hand upon it.

Genghis Khan received the name of Temudjin. According to the vocabulary attached to the history of the Yuen dynasty, translated from the Chinese by Hyacinthe, temudjin means the best iron or steel. The name has been confounded with temurdji, which means a smith, in Turkish. This accounts for the tradition related by Pachymeres, Novairi, William of Ruysbrok, the Armenian Haiton, and others, that Genghis Khan was originally a smith.

The Chinese historians and Ssanang Setzen place his birth in 1162; Raschid and the Persians in 1155. The latter date is accommodated to the fact that they make him seventy-two years old at his death in 1227, but the historian of the Yuen dynasty, the Kangmu, and Ssanang Setzen are all agreed that he died at the age of sixty-six, and they are much more likely to be right. Mailla says he had a piece of clotted blood in his fist when born—no bad omen, if true, of his future career. According to De Guignes, Karachar Nevian was named his tutor.

Ssanang Setzen has a story that his father set out one day to find him a partner among the relatives of his wife, the Olchonods, and that on the way he was met by Dai Setzen, the chief of the Kunkurats, who thus addressed him: "Descendant of the Kiyots and of the race of the Bordshigs, whither hiest thou?"

"I am seeking a bride for my son," was his reply. Dai Setzen then said that he recently had a dream, during which a white falcon had alighted on his hand. "This," he said, "Bordshig, was your token. From ancient days our daughters have been wedded to the Bordshigs, and I now have a daughter named Burte who is nine years old. I will give her to thy son."

"She is too young," he said; but Temudjin, who was present, urged that she would suit him by and by. The bargain was thereupon closed, and, having taken a draught of koumiss and presented his host with two horses, Yissugei returned home.

On his father's death Temudjin was only thirteen years old, an age that seldom carries authority in the desert, where the chief is expected to command, and his mother acted as regent. This enabled several of the tribes which had submitted to the strong hand of Yissugei to reassert their independence. The Taidshuts, under their leaders Terkutai, named Kiriltuk, i.e., the Spiteful, the great-grandson of Hemukai, and his nephew Kurul Bahadur, were the first to break away, and they were soon after joined by one of Yissugei's generals with a considerable following. To the reproaches of Temudjin the latter answered: "The deepest wells are sometimes dry, and the hardest stones sometimes split; why should I cling to thee?" Temudjin's mother, we are told, mounted her horse, and taking the royal standard called Tuk (this was mounted with the tails of the yak or mountain cow, or, in default, with that of a horse; it is the tau or tu of the Chinese, used as the imperial standard, and conferred as a token of royalty upon their vassals, the Tartar princes) in her hand, she led her people in pursuit of the fugitives, and brought a good number of them back to their allegiance.

After the dispersion of the Jelairs, many of them became the slaves and herdsmen of the Mongol royal family. They were encamped near Sarikihar, the Saligol of Hyacinthe, in the district of Ulagai Bulak, which D'Ohsson identifies with the Ulengai, a tributary of the Ingoda, that rises in the watershed between that river and the Onon. One day Tagudshar, a relative of Chamuka, the chief of the Jadjerats, was hunting in this neighborhood, and tried to lift the cattle of a Jelair, named Jusi Termele, who thereupon shot him. This led to a long and bitter strife between Temudjin, who was the patron of the Jelairs, and Chamuka. He was of the same stock as Temudjin, and now joined the Taidshuts, with his tribe the Jadjerats. He also persuaded the Uduts and Nujakins, the Kurulas and Inkirasses, to join them.

Temudjin struggled in vain against this confederacy, and one day he was taken prisoner by the Taidshuts. Terkutai fastened on him a cangue— the instrument of torture used by the Chinese, consisting of two boards which are fastened to the shoulders, and when joined together round the neck form an effectual barrier to desertion. He one day found means to escape while the Taidshuts were busy feasting. He hid in a pond with his nostrils only out of water, but was detected by a pursuer named Surghan Shireh. He belonged to the Sulduz clan; had pity on him; took him to his house; hid him under some wool in a cart so that his pursuers failed to find him, and then sent him to his own people. This and other stories illustrate one phase of Mongol character. We seldom hear among them of those domestic murders so frequent in Turkish history; pretenders to the throne were reduced to servitude, and generally made to perform menial offices, but seldom murdered. They illustrate another fact: favors conferred in distress were seldom forgotten, and the chroniclers frequently explain the rise of some obscure individual by the recollection of a handsome thing done to the ruler in his unfortunate days.

Another phase of Mongol character, namely, the treachery and craft with which they attempt to overreach one another in war, may be illustrated by a short saga told by Ssanang Setzen, and probably relating to this period of Temudjin's career. It is curious how circumstantial many of these traditions are. "At that time," he says, "Buke Chilger of the Taidshuts dug a pit-fall in his tent and covered it with felts. He then, with his brothers, arranged a grand feast, to which Temudjin was invited with fulsome phrases. 'Formerly we knew not thine excellence,' he said, 'and lived in strife with thee. We have now learnt that thou art not false, and that thou art a Bogda of the race of the gods. Our old hatred is stifled and dead; condescend to enter our small house.'

"Temudjin accepted the invitation, but before going he was warned by his mother: 'Rate not the crafty foe too lightly,' she said. 'We do not dread a venomous viper the less because it is so small and weak. Be cautious!'

"He replied: 'You are right, mother, therefore do you, Khassar, have the bow ready: Belgutei, you also be on your guard: you, Chadshikin, see to the horse; and you, Utsuken, remain by my side. My nine Orloks, you go in with me; and you, my three hundred and nine bodyguards, surround the yurt.'

"When he arrived he would have sat down in the middle of the treacherous carpet, but Utsuken pulled him aside and seated him on the edge of the felt. Meanwhile a woman was meddling with the horse and cut off its left stirrup. Belgutei, who noticed it, drove her out, and struck her on the leg with his hand, upon which one Buri Buke struck Belgutei's horse with his sword. The nine Orloks now came round, helped their master to mount the white mare of Toktanga Taishi of the Kortshins; a fight began, which ended in the defeat and submission of the enemy."

Once more free, Temudjin, who was now seventeen years old, married Burte Judjin. He was not long in collecting a number of his men together, and soon managed to increase their number to thirteen thousand. These he divided into thirteen battalions of one thousand men each, styled gurans, each guran under the command of a gurkhan. The gurkhans were chosen from his immediate relatives and dependents. The forces of the Taidshuts numbered thirty thousand. With this much more powerful army Temudjin risked an encounter on the banks of the Baldjuna, a tributary of the Ingoda, and gained a complete victory. Abulghazi says the Taidshuts lost from five thousand to six thousand men. The battle-field was close to a wood, and we are told that Temudjin, after his victory, piled fagots together and boiled many of his prisoners in seventy caldrons—a very problematical story.

Among his neighbors were the Jadjerats, or Juriats, the subjects of
Chamuka, who, according to De Guignes, fled after the battle with the
Taidshuts.

One day a body of the Jadjerats, who were hunting, encountered some of Temudjin's followers, and they agreed to hunt together. The former ran short of provisions, and he generously surrendered to them a large part of the game his people had captured. This was favorably compared by them with the harsh behavior of their suzerains, the Taidshut princes, and two of their chiefs, named Ulugh Bahadur and Thugai Talu, with many of the tribe went to join Temudjin. They were shortly after attacked and dispersed by the Taidshuts. This alarmed or disgusted several of the latter's allies, who went over to the party of Temudjin. Among these were Chamuka, who contrived for a while to hide his rancor; and the chiefs of the Suldus and Basiuts. Their example was soon followed by the defection of the Barins and the Telenkuts, a branch of the Jelairs.

Temudjin's repute was now considerable, and De Mailla tells us that wishing to secure the friendship of Podu, chief of the Kieliei, or Ykiliesse (i.e., the Kurulats), who lived on the river Ergone (i.e., the Argun), and who was renowned for his skill in archery, he offered him his sister Termulun in marriage. This was gladly accepted, and the two became fast friends. As a sign of his good-will, Podu wished to present Temudjin with fifteen horses out of thirty which he possessed, but the latter replied: "To speak of giving and taking is to do as merchants and traffickers, and not allies. Our elders tell us it is difficult to have one heart and one soul in two bodies. It is this difficult thing I wish to compass; I mean to extend my power over my neighbors here; I only ask that the people of Kieliei shall aid me."

Temudjin now gave a grand feast on the banks of the Onon, and distributed decorations among his brothers. To this were invited Sidsheh Bigi, chief of the Burgins or Barins, his own mother, and two of his step-mothers. A skin of koumiss, or fermented milk, was sent to each of the latter, but with this distinction: in the case of the eldest, called Kakurshin Khatun, it was for herself and her family; in that of the younger, for herself alone. This aroused the envy of the former, who gave Sichir, the master of ceremonies, a considerable blow. The undignified disturbance was winked at by Temudjin, but the quarrel was soon after enlarged. One of Kakurshin's dependents had the temerity to strike Belgutei, the half-brother of Temudjin, and wounded him severely in the shoulder, but Belgutei pleaded for him. "The wound has caused me no tears. It is not seemly that my quarrels should inconvenience you," he said. Upon this Temudjin sent and counselled them to live at peace with one another, but Sidsheh Bigi soon after abandoned him with his Barins. He was apparently a son of Kakurshin Khatun, and therefore a step-brother of Temudjin.

About 1194 Temudjin heard that one of the Taidshut chiefs, called Mutchin Sultu, had revolted against Madagu, the Kin Emperor of China, who had sent his chinsang ("prime minister"), Wan-jan-siang, with an army against him. He eagerly volunteered his services against the old enemies of his people, and was successful. He killed the chief and captured much booty; inter alia was a silver cradle with a covering of golden tissue, such as the Mongols had never before seen. As a reward for his services he received from the Chinese officer the title of jaut-ikuri—written "Tcha-u-tu-lu" in Hyacinthe, who says it means "commander against the rebels." According to Raschid, on the same occasion Tului, the chief of the Keraits, was invested with the title of wang ("king"). On his return from this expedition, desiring to renew his intercourse with the Barins, he sent them a portion of the Tartar booty. The bearers of this present were maltreated. Mailla, who describes the event somewhat differently, says that ten of the messengers were killed by Sidsheh Bigi to revenge the indignities that had been put on his family. Temudjin now marched against the Barins, and defeated them at Thulan Buldak. Their two chiefs escaped. According to Mailla they were put to death.

In 1196 Temudjin received a visit from Wang Khan, the Kerait chief, who was then in distress. His brother Ilkah Sengun, better known as Jagampu Keraiti, had driven him from the throne. He first sought assistance from the chief of Kara Khitai, and, when that failed him, turned to Temudjin, the son of his old friend. Wang Khan was a chief of great consequence, and this appeal must have been flattering to him. He levied a contribution of cattle from his subjects to feast him with, and promised him the devotion of a son in consideration of his ancient friendship with Yissugei.

Temudjin was now, says Mailla, one of the most powerful princes of these parts, and he determined to subjugate the Kieliei, the inhabitants of the Argun, but he was defeated. During the action, having been hit by twelve arrows, he fell from his horse unconscious, when Bogordshi and Burgul, at some risk, took him out of the struggle. While the former melted the snow with some hot stones and bathed him with it, so as to free his throat from the blood, the latter, during the long winter night, covered him with his own cloak from the falling snow. He would, nevertheless, have fared badly if his mother had not collected a band of his father's troops and come to his assistance together with Tului, the Kerait chief, who remembered the favors he had received from Temudjin's father. Mailla says that returning home with a few followers, he was attacked by a band of robbers. He was accompanied by a famous crossbowman, named Soo, to whom he had given the name of Merghen. While the robbers were within earshot, Merghen shouted: "There are two wild ducks, a male and a female; which shall I bring down?"

He had scarcely said so when down it came. This was too much for the robbers, who dared not measure themselves against such marksmanship.

The Merkits had recently made a raid upon his territory, and carried off his favorite wife, Burte Judjin. It was after her return from her captivity that she gave birth to her elder son, Juji, about whose legitimacy there seems to have been some doubt in his father's mind. It was to revenge this that he now (1197) marched against them, and defeated them near the river Mundsheh (a river "Mandzin" is still to be found in the canton Karas Muren). He abandoned all the booty to Wang Khan. The latter, through the influence of Temudjin, once more regained his throne, and the following year (1198) he headed an expedition on his own account against the Merkits, and beat them at a place named Buker Gehesh, but he did not reciprocate the generosity of his ally.

In 1199 the two friends made a joint expedition against the Naimans. This tribe was now divided between two brothers who had quarrelled about their father's concubine. One of them, named Buyuruk, had retired with a body of the people to the Kiziltash mountains. The other, called Baibuka—but generally referred to by his Chinese title of Taiwang, or Tayang—remained in his own proper country. It was the latter who was now attacked by the two allies, and forced to escape to the country of Kem Kemdjut—i.e., toward the sources of the Yenissei. Chamuka, the chief of the Jadjerats, well named Satchan, or "the Crafty," still retained his hatred for Temudjin. He now whispered in the ear of Wang Khan that his ally was only a fair-weather friend. Like the wild goose, he flew away in winter, while he himself, like the snowbird, was constant under all circumstances. These and other suggestions aroused the jealousy of Wang Khan, who suddenly withdrew his forces, and left Temudjin in the enemy's country. The latter was thereupon forced to retire also. He went to the river Sali or Sari. Gugsu Seirak, the Naiman general, went in pursuit, defeated Wang Khan in his own territory, and captured much booty. Wang Khan was hard pressed, and was perhaps only saved by the timely succor sent by Temudjin, which drove away the Naimans. Once more did the latter abandon the captured booty to his treacherous ally. After the victory, he held a Kuriltai, on the plains of Sari or Sali, to which Wang Khan was invited, and at which it was resolved to renew the war against the Taidshuts in the following year. The latter were in alliance with the Merkits, whose chief, Tukta, had sent a contingent, commanded by his brothers, to their help. The two friends attacked them on the banks of the river Onon. Raschid says in the country of Onon, i.e., the great desert of Mongolia. The confederates were beaten. Terkutai Kiriltuk and Kuduhar, the two leaders of the Taidshuts, were pursued and overtaken at Lengut Nuramen, where they were both killed. Another of their leaders, with the two chiefs of the Merkits, fled to Burghudshin, i.e., Burgusin on Lake Baikal, while the fourth found refuge with the Naimans.

This victory aroused the jealousy of certain tribes which were as yet independent of Temudjin, namely, the Kunkurats, Durbans, Jelairs, Katakins, Saldjuts, and Taidshuts, and they formed a confederacy to put him down. We are told that their chiefs met at a place called Aru Bulak, and sacrificed a horse, a bull, a ram, a dog, and a stag, and striking with their swords, swore thus: "Heaven and earth, hear our oaths, we swear by the blood of these animals, which are the chiefs of their kind, that we wish to die like them if we break our promises."

The plot was disclosed to Temudjin by his father-in-law, Dai Setzen, a chief of the Kunkurats. He repaired to his ally, Wang Khan, and the two marched against the confederates, and defeated them near the Lake Buyur. He afterward attacked some confederate Taidshuts and Merkits on the plain of Timurkin, i.e., of the river Timur or Temir, and defeated them. Meanwhile the Kunkurats, afraid of resisting any longer, marched to submit to him. His brother, Juji Kassar, not knowing their errand, unfortunately attacked them, upon which they turned aside and joined Chamuka.

That inveterate enemy of Temudjin had at an assembly of the tribes, Inkirasses, Kurulasses, Taidshuts, Katakins, and Saldjuts, held in 1201, been elected gurkhan. They met near a river, called Kieiho by Mailla; Kian, by Hyacinthe; and Kem, by Raschid, and then adjourned to the Tula, where they made a solemn pact praying that "whichever of them was unfaithful to the rest might be like the banks of that river which the water ate away, and like the trees of a forest when they are cut into fagots." This pact was disclosed to Temudjin by one of his friends who was present, named Kuridai. He marched against them, and defeated them at a place north of the Selinga, called Ede Kiurghan, i.e., site of the grave mounds. Chamuka fled, and the Kunkurats submitted.

In the spring of 1202, Temudjin set out to attack the tribes Antshi and Tshagan. These were doubtless the subjects of Wangtshuk and Tsaghan, mentioned by Ssanang Setzen. They were probably Tungusian tribes. The western writers tell us that Temudjin gave orders to his soldiers to follow up the beaten enemy, without caring about the booty, which should be fairly divided among them. His relatives, Kudsher, Daritai, and Altun, having disobeyed, were deprived of their share, and became, in consequence, his secret enemies. Ssanang Setzen has much more detail, and his narrative is interesting because, as Schmidt suggests, it apparently contains the only account extant of the conquest of the tribes of Manchuria. He says that while Temudjin was hawking between the river Olcho and the Ula, Wangtshuk Khakan, of the Dschurtschid (Niutchi Tartars of Manchuria), had retired from there. Temudjin was angry, and went to assemble his army to attack the enemy's capital. But as a passage was forbidden him across the river Ula, and the road was blockaded, the son of Toktanga Baghatur Taidshi, named Andun Ching Taidshi, coupled ten thousand horses together by their bridles, and pressed into the river, forced a passage, and the army then began to besiege the town.

Temudjin sent word to Wangtshuk, and said, "If you will send me ten thousand swallows and one thousand cats then I will cease attacking the town"; upon which the required number was procured. Temudjin fastened some lighted wool to the tail of each and let them go; then the swallows flew to their nests in the houses, and the cats climbed and jumped on the roofs; the city was fired, by which means Temudjin conquered Wangtshuk Khakan, and took his daughter Salichai for his wife. He then marched farther eastward to the river Unegen, but he found it had overflowed its banks, whereupon he did not cross it, but sent envoys to Tsaghan Khakan of the Solongos, i.e., of the Solons. "Bring me tribute, or we must fight," he said; upon which Tsaghan Khakan was frightened, sent him a daughter of Dair Ussun, named Kulan Goa, with a tent decorated with panther skins, and gave him the tribes of Solongos and Bughas as a dowry, upon which he assisted Tsaghan Khakan, so that he brought three provinces of the Solongos under his authority.

Ssanang Setzen at this point introduces one of those quaint sagas, which, however mythical in themselves, are true enough to the peculiar mode of thought of the Mongols to make them very instructive. The saga runs thus:

"During a three years' absence of her husband, Brute Judjin sent Arghassun Churtshi, i.e., Arghassun the lute-player, to him. When the latter was introduced, he spoke thus: 'Thy wife, Burte Judjin Khatun, thy princely children, the elders and princes of thy kingdom, all are well. The eagle builds his nest in a high tree; at times he grows careless in the fancied security of his high-perched home; then even a small bird will sometimes come and plunder it and eat the eggs and young brood: so it is with the swan whose nest is in the sedges on the lake. It, too, trusts too confidently in the dark thickets of reeds, yet prowling water falcons will sometimes come and rob it of eggs and young. This might happen to my revered lord himself!'

"These words aroused Temudjin from his confident air. 'Thou hast spoken truly,' he said, and hied him on his way homeward. But when some distance still from home he began to grow timid. 'Spouse of my young days, chosen for me by my noble father, how dare I face thee, home-tarrying Burte Judjin, after living with Chulan, whom I came across in my journey? It would be shameful to seem unfriendly in the assembly of the people. One of you nine Orloks his you to Burte Judjin and speak for me.'

"Mukuli, of the Jelair tribe, volunteered, and when he came to her, delivered this message: 'Besides protecting my own lands I have looked around also elsewhere. I have not followed the counsel of the greater and lesser lords. On the contrary, I have amused myself with the variegated colors of a tent hung with panther skins. Distant people to rule over, I have taken Chulan to be my wife: the Khan has sent me to tell you this.'" His wife seems to have understood the enigmatical phrases, for Setzen says: "The sensible (!) Burte Judjin thus replied: 'The wish of Burte Judjin and of the whole people is that the might of our sovereign may be increased. It rests with him whom he shall befriend or bind himself to. In the reedy lakes there are many swans and geese. If it be his wish to shoot arrows at them until his finger be weary, who shall complain? So also there are many girls and women among our people. It is for him to say who the choicest and luckiest are. I hope he will take to himself both a new wife and a new house. That he will saddle the untractable horse. Health and prosperity are not wearisome, nor are disease and pain desirable, says the proverb. May the golden girth of his house be immortal.'"[38]

When he arrived at home he discovered that Arghassun had appropriated his golden lute; upon which he ordered Boghordshi and Mukuli to kill him. They seized him, gave him two skins full of strong drink, and then went to the Khan, who had not yet risen. Boghordshi spake outside the tent: "The light already shines in your Ordu. We await your commands; that is, if your effulgent presence, having cheerfully awoke, has risen from its couch! The daylight already shines. Condescend to open the door to hear and to judge the repentant culprit, and to exercise your favor and clemency." The Khan now arose and permitted Arghassun to enter, but he did not speak to him. Boghordshi and Mukuli gave him a signal with their lips. The culprit then began: "While the seventy-tuned Tsaktsaghai unconcernedly sings 'tang, tang,' the hawk hovers over and pounces suddenly upon him and strangles him before he can bring out his last note, 'jang.' So did my lord's wrath fall on me and has unnerved me. For twenty years have I been in your household, but have not yet been guilty of dishonest trickery. It is true I love smoked drink, but dishonesty I have not in my thought. For twenty years have I been in your household, but I have not practised knavery. I love strong drink, but am no trickster." Upon which Temudjin ejaculated, "My loquacious Arghassun, my chattering Churtchi!" and pardoned him.

Temudjin now seems to have been master of the country generally known as Eastern Dauria, watered by the Onon, the Ingoda, the Argun; and also of the tribes of the Tungusic race that lived on the Nonni and the Upper Amur. The various victims of his prowess began to gather together for another effort. Among these were Tukta, the chief of the Merkits, with the Naiman leader, Buyuruk Khan, the tribes Durban, Katagun, Saldjut, and Uirat, the last of whom were clients of the Naimans. Wang Khan was then in alliance with him. At the approach of the enemy they retired into the mountains Caraun Chidun, in the Khinggan chain, on the frontiers of China, where they were pursued. The pursuers were terribly harassed by the ice and snow, which Mailla said was produced by one of their own shamans, or necromancers, and which proved more hurtful to them than to the Mongols. Many of them perished, and when they issued from the defiles they were too weak to attack the two allies. The latter spent the winter at Altchia Kungur. Here their two families were united by mutual betrothals; as these, however, broke down, ill-feeling was aroused between them, and Chamuka had an opportunity of renewing his intrigues. He suggested that Temudjin had secret communications with the Naimans, and was not long in arousing the jealousy of Wang Khan and his son Sengun. They attempted to assassinate him, but he was warned in time.

He now collected an army and marched against the Keraits. His army was very inferior in numbers, but attacked the enemy with ardor. Wang Khan's bravest tribe, the Jirkirs, turned their backs, while the Tunegkaits were defeated, but numbers nevertheless prevailed, and Temudjin was forced to fly. This battle, which is renowned in Mongol history, was fought at a place called Kalanchin Alt. Raschid says this place is near the country of the Niuchis, not far from the river Olkui. Some of the Chinese authorities call it Khalagun ola and Hala chon, and D'Ohsson surmises that it is that part of the Khinggan chain from which flow the southern affluents of the Kalka, one of which is called Halgon in D'Anville's map. Mailla, however, distinctly places it between the Tula and the Onon, which is probably right. Abandoned by most of his troops, he fled to the desert Baldjuna, where he was reduced to great straits. Here are still found many grave mounds, and the Buriats relate that this retired place, protected on the north by woods and mountains, was formerly an asylum. A few firm friends accompanied him. They were afterward known as Baldjunas, a name compared by Von Hammer with that of Mohadshirs, borne by the companions of Mahomet's early misfortunes. Two shepherds, named Kishlik and Badai, who had informed him of Wang Khan's march, were created Terkhans.

Having been a fugitive for some time, Temudjin at length moved to the southeast, to the borders of Lake Kara, into which flows the river Uldra; there he was joined by some Kunkurats, and he once more moved on to the sacred Mongol lake, the Dalai Nur. Thence he indited the following pathetic letter to Wang Khan:

"1. O Khan, my father, when your uncle, the Gur Khan, drove you for having usurped the throne of Buyuruk, and for having killed your brothers Tatimur Taidshi and Buka Timur, to take refuge at Keraun Kiptchak, where you were beleaguered, did not my father come to your rescue, drive out, and force the Gur Khan to take refuge in Ho Si (the country west of the Hwang-ho), whence he returned not? Did you not then become Anda (i.e., sworn friend) with my father, and was not this the reason I styled you 'father'?

"2. When you were driven away by the Naimans, and your brother, Ilkah Sengun, had retired to the far east, did I not send for him back again; and when he was attacked by the Merkits, did I not attack and defeat them? Here is a second reason for your gratitude.

"3. When in your distress you came to me with your body peering through your tatters, like the sun through the clouds, and worn out with hunger, you moved languidly like an expiring flame, did I not attack the tribes who molested you; present you with abundance of sheep and horses? You came to me haggard. In a fortnight you were stout and well-favored again. Here is a third service we have done you.

"4. When you defeated the Merkits so severely at Buker Gehreh, you gave me none of the booty; yet shortly after, when you were hard pressed by the Naimans, I sent four of my best generals to your assistance, who restored you the plunder that had been taken from you. Here is the fourth good office.

"5. I pounced like a jerfalcon onto the mountain Jurkumen, and thence over the lake Buyur, and I captured for you the cranes with blue claws and gray plumage, that is to say, the Durbans and Taidshuts. Then I passed the lake Keule. There I took the cranes with blue feet; that is, the Katakins, Saldjuts, and Kunkurats. This is the fifth service I have done you.

"6. Do you not remember, O Khan, my father, how on the river Kara, near the mount Jurkan, we swore that if a snake glided between us, and envenomed our words, we would not listen to it until we had received some explanation? yet you suddenly left me without asking me to explain.

"7. O Khan, my father, why suspect me of ambition? I have not said, 'My part is too small, I want a greater;' or 'It is a bad one, I want a better.' When one wheel of a cart breaks, and the ox tries to drag it, it only hurts its neck. If we then detach the ox, and leave the vehicle, the thieves come and take the load. If we do not unyoke it, the ox will die of hunger. Am I not one wheel of thy chariot?"

With this letter Temudjin sent a request that the black gelding of Mukuli Bahadur, with its embroidered and plated saddle and bridle, which had been lost on the day of their struggle, might be restored to him; he also asked that messengers might be sent to treat for a peace between them. Another letter was sent to his uncle Kudshir, and to his cousin Altun.

This letter is interesting, because it perhaps preserves for us some details of what took place at the accession of Genghis. It is well known that the Mongol Khan affected a coy resistance when asked to become chief. The letter runs thus: "You conspired to kill me, yet from the beginning did I tell the sons of Bartam Bahadur (i.e., his grandfather), as well as Satcha (his cousin), and Taidju (his uncle). Why does our territory on the Onon remain without a master? I tried to persuade you to rule over our tribes. You refused. I was troubled. I said to you, 'Kudshir, son of Tekun Taishi, be our khan.' You did not listen to me; and to you, Altun, I said, 'You are the son of Kutluk Khan, who was our ruler. You be our khan.' You also refused, and when you pressed it on me, saying, 'Be you our chief,' I submitted to your request, and promised to preserve the heritage and customs of our fathers. Did I intrigue for power? I was elected unanimously to prevent the country, ruled over by our fathers near the three rivers, passing to strangers. As chief of a numerous people, I thought it proper to make presents to those attached to me. I captured many herds, yurts, women, and children, which I gave you. I enclosed for you the game of the steppe, and drove toward you the mountain game. You now serve Wang Khan, but you ought to know that he is fickle. You see how he has treated me. He will treat you even worse."

Wang Khan was disposed to treat, but his son Sengun said matters had gone too far, and they must fight it out. We now find Wang Khan quarrelling with several of his dependents, whom he accused of conspiring against him. Temudjin's intrigues were probably at the bottom of the matter. The result was that Dariti Utshegin, with a tribe of Mongols, and the Sakiat tribe of the Keraits, went over to Temudjin, while Altun and Kudshir, the latter's relations, who had deserted him, took refuge with the Naimans.

Among the companions of his recent distress, a constant one was his brother Juji Kassar, who had also suffered severely, and had had his camp pillaged by the Keraits. Temudjin had recourse to a ruse. He sent two servants who feigned to have come from Juji, and who offered his submission on condition that his wife and children were returned to him. Wang Khan readily assented, and to prove his sincerity sent back to Juji Kassar some of his blood in a horn, which was to be mixed with koumiss, and drunk when the oath of friendship was sworn. Wang Khan was completely put off his guard, and Temudjin was thus able to surprise him. His forces numbered about four thousand six hundred, and he seems to have advanced along the banks of the Kerulon, toward the heights of Jedshir, between the Tula and the Kerulon, and therefore toward the modern Urga, where Wang Khan was posted. In the battle which followed, and which was fought in the spring of 1203, the latter was defeated; he fled to the Naimans, and was there murdered. Temudjin was sincerely affected by the death of the old man.

The Naiman chief, Tayang, had his skull encased in silver and bejewelled, and afterward used it as a ceremonial cup; a custom very frequent in Mongolia. Such cups have been lately met with in Europe, one of which was exhibited at the great exhibition of 1851, where it was shown as the skull of Confucius. Another, or perhaps the same, which was encased in marvellous jeweller's work, has been lately destroyed; the gold having been barbarously melted by the Jews. By the death of Wang Khan, Temudjin became the master of the Kerait nation, and thus both branches of the Mongol race were united under one head.

He now held a kuriltai, where he was proclaimed khan. There is some confusion about the period when he adopted the title of Genghis, but the probability is that he did so three years later. The earlier date (1203) is the one, however, from which his reign is often reckoned to have commenced.

VENETIANS AND CRUSADERS TAKE CONSTANTINOPLE

PLUNDER OF THE SACRED RELICS

A.D. 1204

EDWIN PEARS

In the treaty arranged at the end of the Third Crusade (1192) it was stipulated that all hostilities between the Christians and the Moslems should cease. The Fourth Crusade (1196-1197), which is sometimes considered merely as a movement supplementary to the Third, forced renewed hostilities, against the wishes of the Palestine Christians, who preferred that the three-years' peace should continue. The Fourth Crusade ended disastrously, those who remained longest to prosecute it being finally cut to pieces at Jaffa in 1197. The travellers returning to the West from Syria besought immediate help for the Christian survivors there. The Byzantine empire had fallen into decrepitude, and the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem was reduced to a mere strip of coast. Only by prompt action could it be hoped to save any portion of it from complete wreck.

Innocent III, who became pope in 1198, well understood the meaning of the Moslem triumphs. The four crusades had already greatly extended the papal jurisdiction, and Innocent himself was the moving spirit of the Fifth, although an ignorant priest named Fulk also preached it with a success almost equal to that of Peter the Hermit in the first expedition. Vast numbers of warriors took the cross, though no king and only a few minor princes joined them. Most famous among the leaders were Boniface II, Marquis of Montferrat, and Baldwin IV, Count of Flanders.

Venice joined the crusaders under the lead of her doge, Henry Dandolo, then more than ninety years old. When ambassador at the Byzantine court (1173) he was blinded by order of the emperor Manuel I, and revenge was probably one of the motives which took him again to the East. The Venetians, being asked to transport the crusaders, demanded an extortionate price; but as Venice was the only power possessing the necessary ships, a contract was made with her for the service in 1201. Immediately the Venetians, by a secret treaty with Egypt, for the sake of commercial privileges, betrayed the crusaders to the Moslems. Embarkation from Venice in the summer of 1202 was made very difficult, and many intending crusaders went home in disgust. Still Venice insisted upon the full price; but money to pay it was wanting; and in spite of the Pope and many of the bitter spirits, a bargain was struck—the crusaders agreed to help the Venetians in taking and plundering Zara, a rival Christian city on the eastern coast of the Adriatic. Zara was accordingly captured—ultimately to be destroyed by the Venetians, who next drew some of the crusaders into a plot to overthrow the Byzantine emperor Alexius IV, and place his son on the throne. By this means the Venetians thought to make good their promise to frustrate the crusade, and at the same time to obtain great commercial advantages at Constantinople. Thus was the pilgrim host "changed from a crusading army into a filibustering expedition."

Having wintered at Zara, the crusaders were landed, in June, 1203, under the walls of Constantinople. The Emperor was deposed by his own people, and his son, Alexius V, crowned during a revolution in the city, which followed an unsuccessful attack by the crusaders in July. The second and successful assault, in April, 1204, with its sequel of pillage and debauchery, forms the subject of Pears' brilliant narrative. The city, during these troubles, suffered from two fires, of which the second, in July, 1203, deserves to be reckoned among the great historic conflagrations of the world.

The preparations which the leaders had been pushing on during several weeks were completed in April, 1204, and that day was chosen for an assault upon Constantinople. Instead of attacking simultaneously a portion of the harbor walls and a portion of the landward walls, Venetians and crusaders alike directed their efforts against the defences on the side of the harbor. The horses were embarked once more in the huissiers.[39] The line of battle was drawn up; the huissiers and galleys in front, the transports a little behind and alternating between the huissiers and the galleys. The whole length of the line of battle was upward of half a league, and stretched from the Blachern to beyond the Petrion.[40] The Emperor's vermilion tent had been pitched on the hill just beyond the district of the Petrion, where he could see the ships when they came immediately under the walls. Before him was the district which had been devastated by the fire.

On the morning of the 9th the ships, drawn up in the order described, passed over from the north to the south side of the harbor. The crusaders landed in many places, and attacked from a narrow strip of the land between the walls and the water. Then the assault began in terrible earnest along the whole line. Amid the din of the imperial trumpets and drums the attackers endeavored to undermine the walls, while others kept up a continual rain of arrows, bolts, and stones. The ships had been covered with blanks and skins so as to defend them from the stones and from the famous Greek fire, and, thus protected, pushed boldly up to the walls. The transports soon advanced to the front, and were able to get so near the walls that the attacking parties on the gangways or platforms, flung out once more from the ships' tops, were able to cross lances with the defenders of the walls and towers.

The attack took place at upward of a hundred points until noon, or, according to Nicetas,[41] until evening. Both parties fought well. The invaders were repulsed. Those who had landed were driven back, and amid the shower of stones were unable to remain on shore. The invaders lost more than the defenders. Before night a portion of the vessels had retired out of range of the mangonels,[42] while another portion remained at anchor and continued to keep up a continual fire against those on the walls. The first day's attack had failed.

The leaders of both crusaders and Venetians withdrew their forces to the Galata side. The assault had failed, and it became necessary at once to determine upon their next step. The same evening a parliament was hastily called together. Some advised that the next attack should be made on the walls on the Marmora side, which were not so strong as those facing the Golden Horn. The Venetians, however, immediately took an exception, which everyone who knew Constantinople would at once recognize as unanswerable. On that side the current is always much too strong to allow vessels to be anchored with any amount of steadiness or even safety. There were some present who would have been very well content that the current or a wind—no matter what—should have dispersed the vessels, provided that they themselves could have left the country and have gone on their way.

It was at length decided that the two following days, the 10th and 11th, should be devoted to repairing their damages, and that a second assault should be delivered on the 12th. The previous day was a Sunday, and Boniface and Dandolo made use of it to appease the discontent in the rank and file of the army. The bishops and abbots were set to work to preach against the Greeks. They urged that the war was just; that the Greeks had been disobedient to Rome, and had perversely been guilty of schism in refusing to recognize the supremacy of the Pope, and that Innocent himself desired the union of the two churches. They saw in the defeat the vengeance of God on account of the sins of the crusaders. The loose women were ordered out of the camp, and, for better security, were shipped and sent far away. Confession and communion were enjoined, and, in short, all that the clergy could do was done to prove that the cause was just, to quiet the discontented, and to occupy them until the attack next day.

The warriors had in the mean time been industriously repairing their ships and their machines of war. A slight, but not unimportant, change of tactics had been suggested by the assault on the 9th. Each transport had been assigned to a separate tower. The number of men who could fight from the gangways or platforms thrown out from the tops had been found insufficient to hold their own against the defenders. The modified plan was, therefore, to lash together, opposite each tower to be attacked, two ships, containing gangways to be thrown out from their tops, and thus concentrate a greater force against each tower. Probably, also, the line of attack was considerably shorter than at the first assault.

On Monday morning, the 12th, the assault was renewed. The tent of the Emperor[43] had been pitched near the monastery of Pantepoptis,[44] one of many which were in the district of the Petrion, extending along the Golden Horn from the palace of Blachern, about one-fourth of its length. From this position he could see all the movements of the fleet. The walls were covered with men who were ready again to fight under the eye of their Emperor. The assault commenced at dawn, and continued with the utmost fierceness. Every available crusader and Venetian took part in it. Each little group of ships had its own special portion of the walls, with its towers, to attack. The besiegers during the first portion of the day made little progress, but a strong north wind sprang up, which enabled the vessels to get nearer the land than they had previously been. Two of the transports, the Pilgrim and the Parvis, lashed together, succeeded in throwing one of their gangways across to a tower in the Petrion, and opposite the position occupied by the Emperor.

A Venetian, and a French knight, André d'Urboise, immediately rushed across and obtained a foothold. They were at once followed by others, who fought so well that the defenders of the tower were either killed or fled. The example gave new courage to the invaders. The knights who were in the huissiers, as soon as they saw what had been done, leaped on shore, placed their ladders against the wall, and shortly captured four towers. Those on board the fleet concentrated their efforts on the gates, broke in three of them, and entered the city, while others landed their horses from the huissiers. As soon as a company of knights was formed, they entered the city through one of these gates, and charged for the Emperor's camp. Mourtzouphlos[45] had drawn up his troops before his tents, but they were unused to contend with men in heavy armor, and after a fairly obstinate resistance the imperial troops fled. The Emperor, says Nicetas—who is certainly not inclined to unduly praise the Emperor, who had deprived him of his post of grand logothete—did his best to rally his troops, but all in vain, and he had to retreat toward the palace of the Lion's Mouth. The number of the wounded and dead was sans fin et sans mesure.

An indiscriminate slaughter commenced. The invaders spared neither age nor sex. In order to render themselves safe they set fire to the city lying to the east of them, and burned everything between the monastery of Everyetis and the quarter known as Droungarios.[46] So extensive was the fire, which burned all night and until the next evening, that, according to the marshal, more houses were destroyed than there were in the three largest cities in France. The tents of the Emperor and the imperial palace of Blachern were pillaged, the conquerors making their head-quarters on the same site at Pantepoptis. It was evening, and already late, when the crusaders had entered the city, and it was impossible for them to continue their work of destruction through the night. They therefore encamped near the walls and towers which they had captured. Baldwin of Flanders spent the night in the vermilion tent of the Emperor, his brother Henry in front of the palace of Blachern, Boniface, the Marquis of Montferrat, on the other side of the imperial tents in the heart of the city.

The city was already taken. The inhabitants were at length awakened out of the dream of security into which seventeen unsuccessful attempts to capture the New Rome[47] had lulled them. Every charm, pagan and Christian, had been without avail. The easy sloth into which the possession of innumerable relics, and the consciousness of being under the protection of an army of saints and martyrs, had plunged a large part of the inhabitants, had been rudely dispelled. The Panhagia of the Blachern, with its relic of the Virgin's robe, the host of heads, arms, bodies, and vestments of saints and of portions of the holy Cross, had been of no more use than the palladium which lay buried then, as now, under the great column which Constantine had built. The rough energy of the Westerns had disregarded the talismans of the Greek Church as completely as those of paganism. In vain had the believers in these charms destroyed during the siege the statues which were believed to be of ill omen or unlucky. The invaders had a superstition as deep as their own, but with the difference that they could not believe that a people in schism could have the protection of the hierarchy of heaven, or be regarded as the rightful possessors of so many relics.

During the night following its capture the Golden Gate, which was at the Marmora side of the landward walls, had been opened, and already an affrighted crowd was pressing forward to make its escape from the captured city. Others were doing their best to bury their treasures. The Emperor himself, either seized with panic or finding that all was lost—as, indeed, everything was lost so soon as the army had succeeded in obtaining a foothold within the walls—fled from the city, He, too, escaped by the Golden Gate, taking with him Euphrosyne, the widow of Alexis. The brave Theodore Lascaris determined, however, to make one more attempt. His appeal to the people was useless. Those who were not panic-stricken appear to have been indifferent. Some, at least, were apparently still dreaming of a mere change of rulers, like those of which the majority of them had seen several. But before any attempt at reorganization could be made the enemy was in sight, and Theodore himself had to fly.

The crusaders had expected another day's fighting, and knew nothing of the flight of Mourtzouphlos. To their surprise they encountered no resistance. The day was occupied in taking possession of their conquest. The Byzantine troops laid down their arms on receiving assurances of personal safety. The Italians who had been expelled took advantage of the entry of their friends and appear to have retaliated upon the population for their expulsion. Two thousand of the inhabitants, says Gunther, were killed, and mostly by these returned Italians. As the victorious crusaders passed through the streets, women, old men, and children, who had been unable to flee, met them, and, placing one finger over another so as to make the sign of the cross, hailed the Marquis of Montferrat as king, while a hastily gathered procession, with the cross and the sacred emblems of Christ, greeted him in triumph.

Then began the plunder of the city. The imperial treasury and the arsenal were placed under guard; but with these exceptions the right to plunder was given indiscriminately to the troops and sailors. Never in Europe was a work of pillage more systematically and shamelessly carried out. Never by the army of a Christian state was there a more barbarous sack of a city than that perpetrated by these soldiers of Christ, sworn to chastity, pledged before God not to shed Christian blood, and bearing upon them the emblem of the Prince of Peace. Reciting the crimes committed by the crusaders, Nicetas says, with indignation: "You have taken up the cross, and have sworn on it and on the holy Gospels to us that you would pass over the territory of Christians without shedding blood and without turning to the right hand or to the left. You told us that you had taken up arms against the Saracens only, and that you would steep them in their blood alone. You promised to keep yourselves chaste while you bore the cross, as became soldiers enrolled under the banner of Christ. Instead of defending his tomb, you have outraged the faithful who are members of him. You have used Christians worse than the Arabs used the Latins, for they at least respected women."

An immense mass of treasure was found in each of the imperial palaces and in those of the nobles. Each baron took possession of the castle or palace which was allotted to him, and put a guard upon the treasure which he found there. "Never since the world was created," says the marshal, "was there so much booty gained in one city. Each man took the house which pleased him, and there were enough for all. Those who were poor found themselves suddenly rich. There was captured an immense supply of gold and silver, of plate and of precious stones, of satins and of silk, of furs, and of every kind of wealth ever found upon earth."

The sack of the richest city in Christendom, which had been the bribe offered to the crusaders to violate their oaths, was made in the spirit of men who, having once broken through the trammels of their vows, are reckless to what lengths they go. Their abstinence and their chastity once abandoned, they plunged at once into orgies of every kind.

[Illustration: The lust of the army spared neither maiden nor the virgin dedicated to God Painting by E. Luminais.]

The lust of the army spared neither maiden nor the virgin dedicated to God. Violence and debauchery were everywhere present; cries and lamentations and the groans of the victims were heard throughout the city; for everywhere pillage was unrestrained and lust unbridled. The city was in wild confusion. Nobles, old men, women, and children ran to and fro trying to save their wealth, their honor, and their lives. Knights, foot soldiers, and Venetian sailors jostled each other in a mad scramble for plunder. Threats of ill-treatment, promises of safety if wealth were disgorged, mingled with the cries of many sufferers. These "pious brigands," as Gunther aptly calls them, acted as if they had received a license to commit every crime. Sword in hand, houses and churches were pillaged. Every insult was offered to the religion of the conquered citizens. Churches and monasteries were the richest storehouses, and were therefore the first buildings to be rifled.

Monks and priests were selected for insult. The priests' robes were placed by the crusaders on their horses. The icons were ruthlessly torn down from the screens or were broken. The sacred buildings were ransacked for relics or their beautiful caskets. The chalices were stripped of their precious stones and converted into drinking-cups. The sacred plate was heaped with ordinary plunder. The altar cloths and the screens of cloth of gold, richly embroidered and bejewelled, were torn down, and either divided among the troops or destroyed for the sake of the gold and silver which were woven into them. The altars of Hagia Sophia,[48] which had been the admiration of all men, were broken for the sake of the material of which they were made. Horses and mules were taken into the church in order to carry off the loads of sacred vessels and the gold and silver plates of the throne, the pulpits, and the doors, and the beautiful ornaments of the church. The soldiers made the chief church of Christendom the scene of their profanity. A prostitute was seated in the patriarchal chair, who danced, and sang a ribald song for the amusement of the soldiers.

Nicetas, in speaking of the desecration of the Great Church, writes with the utmost indignation of the barbarians who were incapable of appreciating and therefore respecting its beauty. To him it was an "earthly heaven, a throne of divine magnificence, an image of the firmament created by the Almighty." The plunder of the same church in 1453 by Mahomet II compares favorably with that made by the crusaders of 1204.

The sack of the city went on during the three days after the capture. An order was issued, probably on the third day, by the leaders of the army, for the protection of women. Three bishops had pronounced excommunication against all who should pillage church or convent. It was many days, however, before the army could be reduced to its ordinary condition of discipline. A proclamation was made throughout the army that all the booty should be collected, in order to be divided fairly among the captors. Three churches were selected as depots, and trusty guards of crusaders and Venetians were stationed to watch what was thus brought in. Much, however, was kept back, and much stolen. Stern measures had to be resorted to before order was restored. Many crusaders were hanged. The Count of St. Paul hanged one of his own knights with his shield round his neck because he had not given up the booty he had captured. A contemporary writer, the continuator of the history of William of Tyre, forcibly contrasts the conduct of the crusaders before and after the capture. When the Latins would take Constantinople they held the shield of God before them. It was only when they had entered that they threw it away, and covered themselves with the shield of the devil.

The Italians resident in Constantinople, who had returned to the city with their countrymen, were conspicuous in their hostility to the Greeks. Amid this resentment there were examples, however, that former friendships were not forgotten. The escape of Nicetas himself is an illustration in point. He had held the position of grand logothete,[49] but he had been deposed by Mourtzouphlos. When the Latins entered the city he had retired to a small house near Hagia Sophia, which was so situated as to be likely to escape observation. His large house, and probably his official residence, which he is careful to tell us was adorned with an abundant store of ornaments, had been burned down in the second fire. Many of his friends found refuge with him, apparently regarding his dwelling as specially adapted for concealment. Nothing, however, could escape the observation of the horde which was now ransacking every corner. When the Italians had been banished from the city Nicetas had sheltered a Venetian merchant, with his wife and family. This man now clothed himself like a soldier and, pretending that he was one of the invaders, prevented his countrymen or any other Latins from entering the house. For some time he was successful, but at length a crowd, principally of French soldiers, pushed past and flocked within. From that time protection became impossible.

The Venetian advised Nicetas to leave, in order to prevent himself from being imprisoned and to save the honor of his daughters. Nicetas and his friends accepted the advice. Having clothed themselves in skins or the poorest garments, they were conducted through the city by their faithful friend as if they were his prisoners. The girls and young ladies of the party were placed in their midst, their faces having been intentionally smeared in order to give them the appearance of being of the poorest class. As they reached the Golden Gate the daughter of a magistrate, who was one of the party, was suddenly seized and carried off by a crusader. Her father, who was weak and old, and wearied with the long walk, fell, and was unable to do anything but cry for assistance. Nicetas followed and called the attention of certain soldiers who were passing, and after a long and piteous appeal, after reminding them of the proclamation which had been made against the violation of women, he ultimately succeeded in saving the maiden. The entreaties would have been in vain if the leader of the party had not at length threatened to hang the offender. A few minutes later the fugitives had passed out of the city, and fell on their knees to thank God for his protection in having permitted them to escape with their lives. Then they set out on their weary way to Silivria. The road was covered with fellow-sufferers. Before them was the Patriarch himself, "without bag or money, or stick or shoes, with but one coat," says Nicetas, "like a true apostle, or rather like a true follower of Jesus Christ, in that he was seated on an ass, with the difference that instead of entering the new Zion in triumph he was leaving it."

A large part of the booty had been collected in the three churches designated for that purpose. The marshal himself tells us that much was stolen which never came into the general mass. The stores which had been collected were, however, divided in accordance with the compact which had been made before the capture. The Venetians and the crusaders each took half. Out of the moiety belonging to the army there were paid the fifty thousand silver marks due to the Venetians. Two foot sergeants received as much as one horse sergeant, and two of the latter sergeants received as much as a knight. Exclusive of what was stolen and of what was paid to the Venetians, there were distributed among the army four hundred thousand marks, or eight hundred thousand pounds, and ten thousand suits of armor.

The total amount distributed among the crusaders and Venetians shows that the wealth of Constantinople had not been exaggerated. Eight hundred thousand pounds were given to the crusaders, a like sum to the Venetians, with the one hundred thousand pounds due to them. These sums had been collected in hard cash from a city where the inhabitants were hostile, and where they had in their wells and cisterns an easy means of hiding their treasures of gold, silver, and precious stones—a means traditionally well known in the East. Abundance of booty was taken possession of by the troops which never went into the general mass. Sismondi estimates that the wealth in specie and movable property before the capture was not less than twenty-four million pounds sterling.

The distribution was made during the latter end of April. Many works of art in bronze were sent to the melting-pot to be coined. Many statues were broken up in order to obtain the metals with which they were adorned. The conquerors knew nothing and cared nothing for the art which had added value to the metal. The weight of the bronze was to them the only question of interest. The works of art which they destroyed were sacrificed not to any sentiment like that of the Moslem against images which they believed to be idols or talismans. No such excuse can be made for the Christians of the West Their motive for destroying so much that was valuable was neither fanaticism nor religion. It was the simple greed for gain. No sentiment restrained their cupidity. The great statue of the Virgin which ornamented the Taurus was sent as unhesitatingly to the furnace as the figure of Hercules. No object was sufficiently sacred, none sufficiently beautiful, to be worth saving if it could be converted into cash. Amid so much that was destroyed it is impossible that there were not a considerable number of works of art of the best periods. The one list which has been left us by the Greek logothete professes to give account of only the larger statues which were sent to the melting-pot. But it is worth while to note what were these principal objects so destroyed.

Constantinople had long been the great storehouse of works of art and of Christian relics, the latter of which were usually encased with all the skill that wealth could buy or art furnish. It had the great advantage over the elder Rome that it had never been plundered by hordes of barbarians. Its streets and public places had been adorned for centuries with statues in bronze or marble. In reading the works of the historians of the Lower Empire the reader cannot fail to be struck alike with the abundance of works of art and with the appreciation in which they were held by the writers.

First among the buildings as among the works of art, in the estimation of every citizen, was Hagia Sophia. It was emphatically the Great Church. Tried by any test, it is one of the most beautiful of human creations. Nothing in Western Europe even now gives a spectator who is able with an educated eye to restore it to something like its former condition, so deep an impression of unity, harmony, richness, and beauty in decoration as does the interior of the masterpiece of Justinian. All that wealth could supply and art produce had been lavished upon its interior—at that time, and for long afterward, the only portion of a church which the Christian architect thought deserving of study. "Internally, at least," says a great authority on architecture, "the verdict seems inevitable that Santa Sophia is the most perfect and most beautiful church which has yet been erected by any Christian people. When its furniture was complete the verdict would have been still more strongly in its favor."

We have seen that to Nicetas, who knew and loved it in its best days, it was a model of celestial beauty, a glimpse of heaven itself. To the more sober English observer, "its mosaic of marble slabs of various patterns and beautiful colors, the domes, roofs, and curved surfaces, with gold-grounded mosaic relieved by figures or architectural devices," are "wonderfully grand and pleasing." All that St. Mark's is to Venice, Hagia Sophia was to Constantinople. But St. Mark's, though enriched with some of the spoils of its great original, is, as to its interior at least, a feeble copy. Hagia Sophia justified its founder in declaring, "I have surpassed thee, O Solomon!" and during seven centuries after Justinian his successors had each attempted to add to its wealth and its decoration. Yet this, incomparably the most beautiful church in Christendom, at the opening of the thirteenth century was stripped and plundered of every ornament which could be carried away. It appeared to the indignant Greeks that the very stones would be torn from the walls by these intruders, to whom nothing was sacred.

Around the Great Church were other objects which could be readily converted into bronze, and the destruction of which was irreparable. The immense hippodrome was crowded with statues. Egypt had furnished an obelisk for the centre, Delphi had given its commemoratory bronze of the victory of Platæa. Later works of pagan sculptors were there in abundance, while Christian artists had continued the traditions of their ancestors. The cultured inhabitants of Constantinople appreciated these works of art and took care of them. In giving a list of the more important of the objects which went to the melting-pot, Nicetas again and again urges that these works were destroyed by barbarians who were ignorant of their value. Incapable of appreciating either their historical interest or the value with which the labor of the artist had endowed them, the crusaders knew only the value of the metals of which they were composed.

The emperors had been buried within the precincts of the Church of the Holy Apostles, the site of which was afterward chosen by Mahomet II for the erection of the mosque now called by his name. Their tombs, beginning with that of Justinian, were ransacked in the search for treasure. It was not until the palaces of the nobles, the churches, and the tombs had been plundered that the pious brigands turned their attention to the statues, A colossal figure of Juno, which had been brought from Samos, and which stood in the forum of Constantine, was sent to the melting-pot. We may judge of its size from the fact that four oxen were required to transport its head to the palace. The statue of Paris presenting to Venus the apple of discord followed. The Anemodulion, or "Servant of the Winds," was a lofty obelisk, whose sides were covered with bas-reliefs of great beauty, representing scenes of rural life, and allegories depicting the seasons, while the obelisk was surmounted by a female figure which turned with the wind, and so gave to the whole its name. The bas-reliefs were stripped off and sent to the palace to be melted.

A beautiful equestrian statue of great size, representing either Bellerophon and Pegasus or, as the populace believe, Joshua on horseback commanding the sun to stand still, was likewise sent to the furnace. The horse appeared to be neighing at the sound of the trumpet, while every muscle was strained with the ardor of battle. The colossal Hercules of Lysippus, which, having adorned Tarentum, had thence been transported to the Elder and subsequently to the hippodrome of the New Rome, met with a like fate. The artist had expressed, in a manner which had won the admiration of beholders, the deep wrath of the hero at the unworthy tasks set before him. He was represented as seated, but without quiver or bow or club. His lion's skin was thrown loosely about his shoulders, his right foot and right hand stretched out to the utmost, while he rested his head on his left hand with his elbow on his bent knee. The whole figure was full of dignity; the chest deep, the shoulders broad, the hair curly, the arms and limbs full of muscle.

The figure of an ass and its driver, which Augustus had had cast in bronze to commemorate the news brought to him of the victory of Actium, met with the same fate.

For the sake of melting them down into money the barbarians seized also the ancient statue of the wolf suckling Romulus and Remus; the statues of a sphinx, a hippopotamus, a crocodile, an elephant, and others, which had represented a triumph over Egypt; the monster of Scylla and others; most of which were probably executed before the time of Christ.

The celebrated statue of Helen was destroyed by men who knew nothing of its original. There must be added to these the graceful figure of a woman who held in her right hand the figure of an armed man on horseback. Then near the eastern goals, known as the "reds," stood the statues of the winners in the chariot races. They stood erect in their bronze chariots, as the originals also had been seen when they gained their victories, as if they were still directing their steeds to the goals. A figure of the Nile bull in deadly conflict with a crocodile stood near. These and other statues were hastily sent to the furnace to be converted into money. We may judge of the value and artistic merit of the bronze statues which were destroyed, by the specimens which remain. The four horses which the emperor Theodosius had brought from Chios and placed in the hippodrome escaped, by some lucky chance, the general plunder, and were taken to Venice, where they still adorn the front of St. Mark's.

The pillage of the relics of Constantinople lasted for forty years. More than half of the total amount of objects carried off were, however, taken away between the years 1204 and 1208. During the few days which followed the capture of the city the bishops and priests who were with the crusaders were active in laying hands on this species of sacred spoil; and the statement of a contemporary writer is not improbable, that the priests of the orthodox Church preferred to surrender such spoil to those of their own cloth rather than to the rough soldier or the rougher Venetian sailor. On the other hand, the highest priestly dignitaries in the army—men, even, who refused to take of the earthly spoil—were eager to obtain possession of this sacred booty, and unscrupulous as to the means by which they obtained it. The holy Cross was carefully divided by the bishops for distribution among the barons.

Gunther gives us a specimen of the means to which Abbot Martin, who had had the German crusaders placed under his charge, had recourse. The abbot had learned that many relics had been hidden by the Greeks in a particular church. This building was attacked in the general pillage. He, as a priest, searched carefully for the relics, while the soldiers were looking for more commonplace booty. The abbot found an old priest, with the long hair and beard common then, as now, to orthodox ecclesiastics, and roughly addressed him, "Show me your relics, or you are a dead man."

The old priest, seeing that he was addressed by one of his own profession, and frightened probably by the threat, thought, says Gunther, that it was better to give up the relics to him than to the profane and blood-stained hands of the soldiers. He opened an iron safe, and the abbot, in his delight at the sight, buried his hands in the precious store. He and his chaplain filled their surplices, and ran with all haste to the harbor to conceal their prize. That they were successful in keeping it during the stormy days which followed could only be attributed to the virtue of the relics themselves.

The way in which Dalmatius de Sergy obtained the head of St. Clement is an illustration of the crusader's belief that the acquisition of a relic and its transport to the West would be allowed as a compensation for the fulfilment of the crusader's vow. That knight was grievously afflicted that he could not go to the Holy Land, and earnestly prayed God to show him how he could execute some other task equivalent to that which he had sworn, but failed, to accomplish. His first thought was to take relics to his own country. He consulted the two cardinals who were then in Constantinople, who approved his idea, but charged him not to buy these relics, because their purchase and sale were forbidden. He accordingly determined to steal them, if such a word may be applied to an act which was clearly regarded as praiseworthy. The knight, in order to discover something of especial value, remained in Constantinople until Palm Sunday in the following year. A French priest pointed out to him a church in which the head of St. Clement was preserved. He went there in the company of a Cistercian monk and asked to see the relics. While one kept the persons in charge speaking with him, the other stole a portion of the relic.

On leaving, the knight was disgusted to find that the whole head had not been taken, and, on the pretext that he had left his gauntlet behind, a companion regained admittance to the church, while the knight again kept the monk in charge in conversation at the door. Dalmatius went to the chest behind the altar where the relic had been kept, stole the remainder, went out, mounted his horse and rode away. The head was placed with pious joy in the chapel of his house. He returned, disguised, some days after to the church, in order, as he pretended, to do reverence to the relic—in order really to ascertain that he had taken the right head, for there had been two in the chest. He was informed that the head of St. Clement had been stolen. Then, being satisfied as to its authenticity, he took a vow that he would give the relic to the Church of Cluny in case he should arrive safely. He embarked. The devil, from jealousy, sent a hurricane, but the tears and prayers before the relic defeated him, and the knight arrived safely home. The monks of Cluny received the precious treasure with every demonstration of reverent joy, and in the fullest confidence that they had secured the perpetual intercession of St. Clement on behalf of themselves and those who did honor to his head. The relics most sought after were those which related to the events mentioned in the New Testament, especially to the infancy, life, and passion of Christ, and to the saints popular in the West.

In the years which followed the conquest Latin priests were sent to Constantinople from France, Flanders, and Italy, to take charge of the churches in the city. These priests appear to have been great hunters after relics. Thus it came to pass that there was scarcely an important church or monastery in most Western countries which did not possess some share of the spoil which came from Constantinople.

For some years the demand for relics seemed to be insatiable, and caused fresh supplies to be forthcoming to an almost unlimited extent. The new relics, equally with the old, were certified in due form to be what they professed to be. Documents, duly attested and full of detailed evidence—sometimes, doubtless, manufactured for the occasion—easily satisfied those to whom it was of importance to possess certified relics, and throughout the West the demand for relics which might bring profit to their possessors continued to increase. At length the Church deemed it necessary to put a stop to the supply, and especially to that of the apocryphal and legendary acts which testified to their authenticity, and in 1215 the fourth Lateran council judged it necessary to make a decree enjoining the bishops to take means to prevent pilgrims from being deceived.

LATIN EMPIRE OF THE EAST

ITS FOUNDATION AND FALL

A.D. 1204-1261

W.J. BRODRIBB AND SIR WALTER BESANT

As a result of the intrigues connected with the Fifth Crusade, in which crusaders and Venetians—the latter for their own commercial advantage—jointly participated, it was decided to capture Constantinople, the seat of the Byzantine empire, and to partition the empire itself among the captors. The combined forces of the Latins accordingly made two assaults upon the capital of their Eastern fellow-Christians, who had from the first made passive opposition to the crusades, fearing for the integrity of their empire. The city succumbed to the second attack and was thoroughly plundered. The division of the empire was especially insisted upon by Dandolo, the aged doge, who led the Venetians in the expedition.

The Venetians well knew that whoever held the city of Constantinople held the key of the East. It proved in the end that they had an imperfect knowledge of the strength and resources, as well as of the peculiar weakness, of the Byzantine possessions, which at best were but loosely held together, and required ceaseless vigilance on the part of the central government to guard them against outward attack and hold in check the spirit of internal revolt.

It was nevertheless the cautious policy of the Venetians not to hold the key of the East, Constantinople, since to hold it would entail the necessity of defending its possessions. They preferred to be on such terms of friendship, not necessarily alliance, with those who should hold the key, as would give them all the advantages they desired, without involving them in irksome obligations if there came a change of masters. "Venice fought for her own hand," let other nations as they might be led astray by illusory hopes of allies and friends bound by ties of gratitude. She well knew how to guard herself against the spirit of perfidy so active in the Middle Ages, as well as how to exercise that spirit in her own interest.

Once in possession and control of Constantinople, the Latins found it necessary to proceed directly to the partition of the empire. It had been agreed between old Dandolo and Baldwin, Boniface and others of the crusaders that one full quarter of the whole dominion was to be assigned to the Latin emperor, who was to be elected by Venetians and crusaders together. This left three-quarters remaining, of which Venice was to take half, the rest to be in some manner divided among the crusaders. First of all, however, came the election of an emperor for the new state.

Venice wanted no imperial dignity, nor could any dignity be bestowed upon the nonagenarian Dandolo greater than that which he actually enjoyed as doge of his native republic. He accepted, however, the title of Despot of Romania.[50] The emperor must therefore be chosen from among the French or Flemings. Two of the chiefs might show strong claims for the choice. Of these two, the Marquis of Montferrat, who at first seemed the most likely to be chosen, was already connected by means of his brother's marriage with the late reigning dynasty of Constantinople. He was, besides, proved to be a valorous soldier and a prudent general. On the other hand, Baldwin, the count of Flanders, a younger man, had displayed all the prowess of his rival, and was personally more popular. Besides, the larger part of the army consisted of his own people, Flemings.

There was, therefore, no surprise when the council of election announced that the choice had fallen upon Baldwin, and his rival was among the first to acknowledge the validity of the election. The Marquis of Montferrat obtained for his prize Crete and the Asiatic part of the empire. As, however, he discovered that the latter part of the Byzantine realm would require to be conquered, he exchanged it for the kingdom of Thessalonica. The Greek empire had at one blow fallen to pieces. What the crusaders had conquered was that part of the country now called Roumelia. Across the Dardanelles, Theodore Lascaris established himself as emperor at Nicæa; and Alexius, a son of Manuel Comnenus, created an empire for himself at Trebizond; another established himself as despot of Epirus; and the other two wandering emperors, Alexius III and Alexius V, joined their forces, in the hope of keeping the Latins out of the northwest provinces.

But these two passed masters in duplicity could not, even in misfortune, trust one another, and Alexius III, the craftier if not the stronger of the two vagabond usurpers, seized his ally, put out his eyes, and handed him over to the Latins. They went through the formality of a trial, and found him guilty of the murder of Alexius IV. He was sentenced to death, and after a good deal of discussion it was decided that the manner of his death should be by being hurled from the top of a lofty column, and this was accordingly done.

As for Alexius III, after a great variety of adventures he finally fell into the hands of his son-in-law, Theodore Lascaris, who shut him up in a monastery, where his troubled life came to an end.

Baldwin began his reign by sending a conciliatory letter to the Pope.[51] He had not, it is true, attempted to carry out the vows which he and his brother-crusaders had taken upon themselves. Palestine still groaned under the yoke of the infidel. At the same time the Pope could not but feel gratified at the extinction of the Greek schism and the restoration of the unity of Christendom, That event was undoubtedly due to him, and the Pope acknowledged it in a careful letter, which left him free at any time to express his disapprobation of the course pursued by the crusaders. To the King of France Baldwin wrote, inviting the French knights to find their way to this new scene of conquest and glory. To Palestine he sent promises of assistance, with, as tokens of his power, the gates of Constantinople and the chain which barred the port.

And then, the empire being fairly parcelled out, the Marquis of Montferrat took his knights and men-at-arms to establish his own kingdom of Thessalonica. Other chiefs, who had obtained each his own part of the Byzantine territories, went off to conquer them for themselves; and the Greeks began to perceive that they were ruled by a mere handful of Latin adventurers, only to be dreaded when they were together, and now scattered in small garrisons and feeble bands all about the country. When this knowledge was thoroughly acquired, troubles began to befall the new empire.

These troubles were originated, however, not by the Greeks, but by the Bulgarians, and were due to the arrogance and pride of Baldwin. John, King of this savage people, was of the Latin Church. Being as orthodox as he was barbarous, he rejoiced mightily at the fall of the Greeks, and sent an embassy of congratulation to the new Latin Emperor. Weak as he was upon his unstable throne, Baldwin actually had the folly and impudence to assault these ambassadors, to treat them as rebels, and to send a message to their master that, before his servants could be received at the Byzantine court, he must first deserve pardon by touching with his forehead the footstool of the imperial throne. It was not likely that a high-spirited and independent sovereign would brook such a message.

He instantly threw the whole weight of his influence and strength into the cause of the Greeks, and with their leaders concerted a scheme of general and simultaneous massacre worthy of his barbarism and their treachery. The secret was well kept; the conspirators were in no hurry to strike the blow. They waited patiently till a time when it seemed as if the force of the Latins was at the lowest; that is, when Prince Henry, brother of the Emperor, had crossed the Hellespont with the flower of the troops. The empire in Europe was covered with thin and sparse garrisons; there were no forces in Constantinople to come to their succor should they try to hold out; they might be taken in detail and at once. And then those Byzantine Vespers began. It was a revolt of thousands against tens; there was a great slaughter, a rush of the little bands who escaped upon Adrianople, where there was a fresh slaughter; and while the Greeks were up in successful revolt, the Bulgarians, accompanied by a savage band of fourteen thousand Comans, invaded the country, mad for pillage and revenge.

The position was one of extreme peril. Baldwin sent messengers to his brother, ordering him to return in all haste, and then made such hasty preparations as were possible, and sallied forth to the siege of Adrianople. Had he waited for Henry's return, all might have gone well with him, but he would not wait. It was the rule of the crusaders never to refuse battle, whatever the odds, a rule to which their greatest victories as well as their greatest disasters were chiefly due. What Godfrey did before Ascalon, Baldwin was ready to do before Adrianople. He had with him no more than a hundred and forty knights, with three trains of archers and men-at-arms—say two thousand men in all. The gallant Villehardouin, Marshal of Romania, who was destined to survive this day and write its story, led the vanguard.

The main body, with whom was Baldwin, was commanded by the Count of Blois; the rear was brought up by old Dandolo. The slender ranks of the little army were continually being recruited by the accession of the fugitive remains of the garrisons. On the way to Adrianople they met the light cavalry of the Comans. Orders were given not to pursue these light horsemen, who fought after the manner of the Parthians. In a solid phalanx the western knights were able to face any odds, but scattered and dispersed they would fall beneath the weight of numbers.

The order insisted on by Dandolo, who knew this kind of enemy, was broken by no others than the Emperor himself and the Count of Blois. The Comans, as usual, fled at the first charge of the heavily armed knights, who spurred after them, regardless of the order, and led by the Emperor. When they had ridden a mile or so, when their horses were breathed, then the Comans closed in upon the little band of knights, and the unequal contest began of a hundred and forty against fourteen thousand. Some few struggled out of the mêlée and found their way back to the rest of the army. Most fell upon the field. Among these was the Count of Blois. A few were taken prisoners, among whom was the Emperor. No one ever knew his fate. The wildest stories were told of this unfortunate Prince. His hands and feet, it was said, were cut off, and he was exposed, mutilated, to the wild animals; he was beheaded; he enacted the part of Joseph—Potiphar's wife being King John's queen. Nothing was too wild to be believed about him. Twenty years later a hermit of the Netherlands thought it would be possible to pass himself off as the real Baldwin, who had escaped from captivity and was thus expiating his early sins.

He obtained the fate from justice and the sympathy from the vulgar which have commonly been the lot of pretenders. Whatever the real end of this Emperor, King John wrote a year later to the Pope, calmly informing him that his intercession for Baldwin was no longer of any use, because he was no longer living. Then it was, and not till then, that his brother, Henry of Flanders, consented to assume the title of Emperor. Already the leaders of the crusade, who only three years before had set sail so proudly from Venice, were dead or on the point of death: Baldwin murdered in captivity; the Count of Blois killed on the field of battle; Dandolo dead, at the age, say some writers, of a hundred, in the year 1205; the Marquis of Montferrat about to be slain in an obscure skirmish with the barbarous Bulgarians.

Henry stood alone, save for the faithful Geoffrey de Villehardouin, Marshal of Champagne and Romania, who, though his narrative ceases at this point, is believed to have remained with the new Emperor. His reign lasted for ten years only. It was a reign of successful, brave, and prudent administration in things military, civil, and ecclesiastical Its success was greatly assisted by the fact that very early in his reign the Greeks discovered the mistake they had made in changing the rule of the Latins for the rule of the Bulgarians.

The first were hard masters, with rough, rude ways, and little sympathy with the culture of the Byzantines; but the latter proposed, as soon as the Latins were driven south, to exterminate the population of Thrace, or at least to transplant the Greeks beyond the Balkans. They called upon the Emperor to forgive them and to help them. Henry, with a little army of eight hundred knights, with archers and men-at-arms, perhaps five thousand in all, made no scruple of going out to attack this disorderly mob of forty thousand Bulgarians. As no mention is made of the Comans, it is presumable that these had gone home again with their booty. At the siege of Thessalonica King John was murdered—slain by no less a person than St. Demetrius himself, said the Greeks—and a peace was concluded between his successor and Henry.

The last years of this exemplary monarch's life were spent in wise administration. He checked the zeal of the Pope's legate, and would not countenance persecution about the double procession and other controverted dogmas. He checked the pretensions of the clergy, by placing his throne on the same level with that of the Patriarch, whereas it had formerly been lower; and he prohibited the alienation of fiefs, which would have handed over the patrimony of the knights to the Church, and turned, as Gibbon says, a colony of soldiers into a college of priests. When he died, childless, the next heir to the empire was his sister Yolande, who had married Peter of Courtenay, Count of Auxerre, a member of that princely house which still survives in the line of the English earls of Devon.

It was an unfortunate day for that prince when he accepted the crown which had already in ten years carried off two of his brothers. Yet the chance was splendid. What count or duke or knight of these days but would seize a crown thus offered, however great the peril? He accepted the crown, then, and, to make a worthy appearance on entering into possession, he either mortgaged or sold the best part of ten estates, and raised, with the help of Philip Augustus, an army of one hundred and forty knights and five thousand five hundred men-at-arms and archers. He persuaded the pope Honorius III to crown him, it being understood that, as Emperor of the East, he had no claim to jurisdiction or right over Rome, and, following the example of Baldwin, engaged the Venetians to convey him and his army to Constantinople. They would do so on similar terms and for a consideration—let him first recover for them the port of Durazzo from the Despot of Epirus; this was no longer Michael, the founder of the kingdom, but his brother Theodore. The Emperor delivered his assault on Durazzo, and was unsuccessful. Then the Venetians refused the transport. Peter thereupon made an agreement with the despot Theodore, by which the latter undertook to convey him and his army safely to his dominion overland. It is another story of Greek treachery. The Emperor, with his troops, while in the mountains, was attacked by Greeks of Theodore's army. Such of his men as did not surrender were cut to pieces. He himself was taken prisoner, detained for two years, and then put to death in some mysterious way.

Yolande, the Empress, while yet she was uncertain of the fate of her lord, gave birth to a son, the most unfortunate Baldwin. The eldest of Yolande's sons, Philip de Courtenay, had the singular good-sense and good-fortune to decline the offered crown. He found plenty of fighting in Europe of an equally adventurous kind, and less treacherous than that among the Greeks. The second son, Robert, accepted the responsibilities and dangers of the position. For seven years he held the sceptre with a trembling hand amid all kinds of disasters. The Despot of Epirus, the treacherous Theodore, swept across the country as far as Adrianople, where he raised his standard and called himself emperor. Vatatces, the successor of Theodore Lascaris, seized upon the last relics of the Asiatic possessions, intercepted western succor, actually persuaded a large body of French mercenaries to serve under him, constructed a fleet, and obtained the command of the Dardanelles.

A personal and private outrage of the grossest kind, offered to the unfortunate Emperor by an obscure knight, drove him in rage and despair from the city. He sought refuge in Italy, but was recalled by his barons, and was on his way back to Constantinople when he was seized with some malady which killed him. It is a miserable record of a weak and miserable life. On his death, his brother Baldwin being still a boy, the barons looked about them for a stronger hand to rule the tottering State. They found the man they wanted in gallant old John de Brienne, the last of those who raised themselves from simple knightly rank to a royal palace.

Gauthier de Brienne was King of Sicily and Duke of Apulia. John himself, one of the last specimens of the great crusading heroes, was titular King of Jerusalem, having married Constance, daughter of Isabelle and granddaughter of Amaury.

Philip Augustus himself selected John de Brienne as the most worthy knight to become the husband of Constance and the King of Jerusalem. He was now an old man of more than seventy years. His daughter, Yolande, was married to Frederick II, who had assumed the title of King of Jerusalem, but old as he was he was still of commanding stature and martial bearing. His arm had lost none of its strength, nor his brain any of its vigor. He accepted the crown on the understanding that the young Baldwin, then eleven years of age, should join him as emperor on coming of age. Great things were expected from so stout a soldier. Yet for two years nothing was done. Then the Emperor was roused into action.

It was understood at Constantinople that Vatatces, the successor of Theodore Lascaris, was on the point of concluding an alliance, offensive and defensive, with Agan, King of the Bulgarians and successor of John. The alliance could have but one meaning, the destruction of the Latin empire.

It must be remembered that the vast Roman Empire of the East was shrunken in its dimensions to the city of Constantinople and that narrow strip of territory commanded by her walls, her scanty armies, and her diminished fleets. Of territory, indeed, the Latin empire had none in the sense of land producing revenue. What it held was held with the drawn sword in the hand ready for use. The kingdom of Thessalonica was gone; and though the dukedoms, marquisates, and countships of Achaia, Athens, Sparta, and other independent petty states were still held by the emperors or their sons, they were like the outlying provinces of the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem—Edessa, Tripoli, and the rest—a source of weakness rather than of strength. Little help, if any, could be looked for from them.

The alliance, however, was concluded, and the allies, with an immense army, estimated at a hundred thousand, besides three hundred ships-of-war, sat down before the city and besieged it by sea and land. The incident that follows reads like a story from the history of Amadis de Gaul. Gibbon says that he "trembles" to relate it. While this immense host lay outside his walls; while thirty ships armed with their engines of war menaced his long line of seaward defences in the narrow strait, brave old John de Brienne, who had but one hundred and sixty knights with their following of men-at-arms and archers—-say two thousand in all—led forth his little band, and at one furious onset routed the besieging army. Probably it was mainly composed of the Bulgarian hordes, undisciplined, badly armed, and, like all such hosts, liable to panic. Perhaps, too, the number of the enemy was by no means so great as is reported, nor were the forces of John de Brienne so small.

Nor was his success limited to the rout of the army, for the citizens, encouraged by their flight, attacked the ships, and succeeded in dragging five-and-twenty of them within the port. It would appear that the Bulgarians renewed their attempt in the following year, and were again defeated by the old Emperor. It would have been well for the Latins had his age been less. He died in the year 1237, and young Baldwin, who was married to his daughter Martha, became sole emperor. John de Brienne made so great a name that he was compared with Ajax, Odin the Dane, Hector, Roland, and Judas Maccabæus. Baldwin, who came after him, might have been compared with any of those kinglings who succeeded Charlemagne, and sat in their palaces while the empire fell to pieces.

His incapacity is proved, if by nothing else, by his singular and uniform ill-luck. If, after the fight of life is over, no single valiant blow can be remembered, the record is a sorry one indeed. Baldwin's difficulties were, it must be owned, very great: they were so great that for a considerable portion of the four-and-twenty years during which he wore the Roman purple his crown was left him by sufferance, and his manner of reigning was to travel about Europe begging for money. The Pope proclaimed a crusade for him, but it was extremely difficult to awaken general enthusiasm for a Courtenay in danger of being overthrown by a Lascaris; and the other point, the submission of Constantinople to Rome in things ecclesiastical, could not be said to touch the popular sentiment at all. The Pope, however, supplemented his exhortation by bestowing upon the indigent Emperor a treasure of indulgences, which he no doubt sold at their marketable value, whatever that was. One fears that it was not much. From England he obtained, after an open insult at Dover, a small contribution toward the maintenance of his empire. Louis IX of France would have rendered him substantial assistance, but for the more pressing claims of the Holy Land and his project for delivering the holy places by a new method. His brother-in-law, Frederick II, excommunicated by the Church, was not likely to manifest any enthusiasm for an ecclesiastical cause; and those allies from whom he might have expected substantial aid, the Venetians, were at war with the Genoese; the Prince of Achaia was in captivity, and the feeble son of Boniface, King of Thessalonica—the sons of all these sturdy crusaders were feeble, like the Syrian pullani, sons of Godfrey's heroes—had been deposed. Yet money and men must be raised, or the city must be abandoned. A wise man would have handed over the empire to any who dared defend it. Baldwin was not a wise man. He proceeded to sell the remaining lands of Courtenay and the marquisate of Namur, and by this and other expedients managed to return with an army of thirty thousand men. What would not Baldwin I, or Henry his uncle, or John de Brienne his father-in-law have been able to effect with an army of thirty thousand soldiers of the West? But Baldwin the Incapable did next to nothing.

By this time the strip of country remaining to the Emperor was only that immediately surrounding the city. All the rest was in the hands of Greek or of Bulgarian. When these were at war, the city was safe; when these were united, the city was every moment in danger of falling. Baldwin used his new recruits in gaining possession of the country for a distance of three days' journey round his capital—about sixty miles in all—which was something. But how was the position to be maintained or to be improved? There were no revenues in that bankrupt city, from whose port the trade had passed away, and which had lost the command of the narrow seas. What was the condition of the citizens we know not. That of the imperial household was such that the Emperor's servants were fain to demolish empty houses for fuel, and to strip churches of the lead upon their roofs to supply the daily wants of his family. He sent his son Philip to Venice as security for a debt; he borrowed at enormous interest of the merchants of Italy; and when all else failed, and the money which he had raised at such ruinous sacrifices had melted away, and his soldiers were clamoring for pay, he remembered the holy relics yet remaining to the city, in spite of the cartloads carried off during the great sack of 1204, and resolved to raise more money upon them.

There was, first of all, the Crown of Thorns. This had been already pledged in Venice for the sum of thirteen thousand one hundred and thirty-four pieces of gold to the Venetians. As the money was spent and the relic could not be redeemed within the time, the Venetians were preparing to seize it. They would have been within their right. But Baldwin conceived an idea, so clever that it must have been suggested by a Greek, which, if successfully carried out, would result in the attainment of much more money by its means. He would give it to Louis IX of France. A relic of such importance might be pawned, it might be given, but it could not be sold. Therefore Baldwin gave it to King Louis. By this plan the Venetians were tricked of their relic, on which they had counted; the debt was transferred to France, which easily paid it; the precious object itself, to which Frederick II granted a free passage through his dominions, was conveyed by Dominican friars to Troyes, whither the French court advanced to receive it, and a gift of ten thousand marks reconciled Baldwin and his barons to their loss. After all, as the prospects of the State were so gloomy, it might be some consolation to them to reflect that so sacred a relic—which had this great advantage over the wood of the true Cross, that it had not been and could not be multiplied until it became equal in bulk to the wood of a three-decker—was consigned to the safe custody of the most Christian King of France.

This kind of traffic once begun, and proving profitable, there was no reason why it should not continue. Accordingly, the Crown of Thorns was followed by a large and very authentic piece of the true Cross. St. Louis gave Baldwin twenty thousand marks as an honorarium for the gift of this treasure, which he deposited in the Sainte-Chapelle. Here it remained, occasionally working miracles, as every bit of the true Cross was bound to do, until the troubles of the league, when it was mysteriously stolen. Most likely some Huguenot laid hands upon it, and took the same kind of delight in burning it that he took in throwing the consecrated wafer to the pigs.

And then more relics were found and disposed of. There was the baby linen of our Lord; there was the lance which pierced his side; there was the sponge with which they gave him to drink; there was the chain with which his hands had been fettered: all these things, priceless, inestimable, wonder-working, Baldwin sent to Paris in exchange for marks of silver. And then there were relics of less holiness, but still commanding the respect and adoration of Christians; these also were hunted up and sent. Among them were the rod of Moses, and a portion—alas! a portion only—of the skull of John the Baptist. Thirty or forty thousand marks for all these treasures! And it seems but a poor result of the conquest of Constantinople by the Latins that all which came of it was the transferrence of relics from the East to the West—nothing else. Such order as the later Greek emperors had preserved, changed into anarchy and misrule; such commerce as naturally flowed from Asia into the Golden Horn, diverted and lost; a strange religion imposed upon an unwilling people; the break-up of the old Roman forms; the destruction by fire of a third of the city; the disappearance of the ancient Byzantine families; the ruin of the wealthy, the depression of the middle classes; the impoverishment of the already poor; the decay and loss of learning: these were the things which the craft and subtlety of Dandolo, working on the Franks' lust of conquest, had brought about for the proud city of the East.

But the end was drawing daily nearer. Vatatces of Nicæa died. He was succeeded by his son Theodore, on whose death the crown of Nicæa devolved upon an infant. The child was speedily, though not immediately, openly dethroned by the regent, Michael Palæologus. When at length the imperial title was assumed by the latter, Baldwin thought it advisable to attempt negotiations with him. His ambassadors were received with open contumely; Michael would give the Latins nothing. "Tell your master," he said, "that if he be desirous of peace, he must pay me, as an annual tribute, the sum which he receives from the trade and customs of Constantinople. On these terms I may allow him to reign; if he refuses, it will be war."

That was in the year 1259. Michael, no putter-forth of empty and boastful words, prepared immediately for the coming war; so in his feeble way did Baldwin, but his money was spent, his recruits were melting away, the Venetians alone were his allies, and the Genoese had joined the Greeks. And yet Michael did not know—so great was the terror of the Frank and Flemish name which the great Baldwin, Henry of Flanders, and John de Brienne had left behind them—how weak was the Latin empire; how unstable were the defences of the city.

Michael, in 1260, marched into Thrace, strengthened the garrisons, and expelled the Latins yet remaining in the country. Had he, the same year, marched upon Constantinople, the city would have been his. But the glory of taking it was destined for one of his generals.

The Greek Emperor, returning to Nicæa, sent Alexius Strategopoulos, his most trusted general, on whom he had conferred the title of cæsar, to take the command of his armies in Europe. He laid strict orders upon him to enter the Latin territory as soon as the existing truce was concluded: to watch, report—act upon the defensive if necessary—but nothing more.

Now the lands round Constantinople had been sold by their Latin seigneurs to Greek cultivators, who, to defend their property, formed themselves into an armed militia, called "Voluntaries." With these voluntaries Alexius opened communications, and was by their aid enabled to get accurate information of all that went on among the Latins. As soon as the truce expired, he marched his troops across the frontier and approached the city. His force—doubtless the Latins were badly served by their spies—seemed too small to inspire any serious alarm, and the Latins, who had recently received succor from Venice which made them confident, resolved on striking the first blow by an attack on the port of Daphnusia. They accordingly despatched a force of six thousand men, with thirty galleys, leaving the city almost bare of defenders. This, then, was the moment for successful treachery. One Koutrilzakes, a Greek voluntary, secured the assistance of certain friends within the town. Either a subterranean passage was to be opened to the Greeks, or they were to be assured of friends upon the walls. Alexius, at dead of night, brought his army close to the city. At midnight, against a certain stipulated spot the scaling-ladders were placed, where there were none but traitors to receive the men; at the same time, the passage was traversed, and Alexius found himself within the walls of the city.[52] They broke open the Gate of the Fountain; they admitted the Greek men-at-arms and the Coman auxiliaries before the alarm was given; and by daylight the Greeks had complete command of the land wall, and were storming the imperial palace. There was one chance left for Baldwin. He might have betaken himself to the Venetians, and held their quarter until the unlucky expedition to Daphnusia returned, when they might have expelled the Greeks, or made at least an honorable capitulation. But Baldwin was not the man to fight a lost or losing battle. He hastily fled to the port, embarked on board a vessel, and set sail for Euboea. In the deserted palace the Greek soldiers found sceptre, crown, and sword, the imperial insignia, and carried them in mockery through the streets.

While Baldwin was flying from the palace to the port, behind him and around him was the tramp of the rude Coman barbarians, proclaiming that the city was taken. The houses, hastily thrown open as the first streaks of the summer day lit up the sky, resounded with the acclamations of those, yesterday his own subjects, who welcomed the new-comers with cries of "Long live Michael the Emperor of the Romans!" The house of Courtenay had played its last card and lost the game. Pity that it was thrown away by so poor a player.

It matters little about the end of Baldwin. He got safely to Euboea, thence to Rome, and lived twelve or thirteen years longer in obscurity. When he died, his only son, Philip, assumed the empty title of emperor of Constantinople, which, Gibbon says, "too bulky and sonorous for a private name, modestly expired in silence and oblivion." It took, however, a long time to expire. Two hundred and fifty years later one of its last holders was the inheritor of so many shadowy claims that his very name in history is blurred by them. René of Anjou gave himself, among other titles, that of emperor of Constantinople.

Constantinople was taken, and the Latin Empire destroyed at a blow. There were, however, still remaining the Venetian merchants, who had the command of the port, and who might, by holding out until the return of the ships from Daphnusia, undo all. Alexius set fire to their houses, but was careful to leave their communications with the vessels unmolested. They had therefore nothing left but to secure the safety of their wives, families, and movable property, which they did by embarking them on board the ships. And when the Daphnusian expedition returned, they found, to their surprise, that the Greeks held the whole city except a small portion near the port, and had manned the walls. A hasty truce was arranged; the merchants loaded every ship with their families and their property; the Latin fleet sailed down the Dardanelles, and the Latin Empire in the East was at an end.

It began with violence and injustice: it ended as it began. There were six Latin emperors, of whom the first was a gallant soldier; the second, a sovereign of admirable qualities, and an able administrator; the third, a plain French knight, who was murdered on his way to assume the purple buskins; the fourth, a weak and pusillanimous creature; the fifth, a stout old warrior; and the last, a monarch of whom nothing good can be said and nothing evil, except that which was said of Boabdil (called El Chico), that he was unlucky. As the Latins never had the slightest right or title to these possessions in the East, so the western powers were never impelled to assist them, and their downfall was merely a matter of time. In the interests of civilization their occupation of the city seems to have been unfortunate; they learned nothing for themselves, they taught nothing; neither East nor West profited. They destroyed the old institutions, so that the ancient Roman Empire was broken up by their conquest; they inflicted irreparable losses on learning and art; and perhaps the only good result of their conquest was that, for the moment, at least, it deflected the course of trade with the East from the Golden Horn, and sent it by another route to Venice, Genoa, and Pisa.

INNOCENT III EXALTS THE PAPAL POWER

A.D. 1208

T.F. TOUT

Under Pope Innocent III the example of Gregory VII (Hildebrand) was followed, with the result of still further strengthening and extending the pontifical sway. When Innocent became pope (1198), the holy see was engaged in a desperate contest for supremacy with the Hohenstaufen rulers of the Holy Roman Empire. Henry VI, son of Frederick Barbarossa, had but recently died, leaving his wife Constance, heiress of the kingdom of Naples or the "Two Sicilies," and a son, Frederick—afterward Frederick II—born in 1194, to be dealt with by the Pope.

While the imperial power under the Hohenstaufens was making head against the papal authority, Italy was overrun in parts by German subjects of the emperors, and in two expeditions (1194 and 1197) Henry VI recovered the Two Sicilies from the usurper Tancred of Lecce. In his dealings with the Sicilies Innocent therefore had to reckon with the German influence which played an important part in the new settlement of the kingdom. His triumphs in this field, as well as in his conflicts with Philip Augustus of France, Otto IV of Germany, and King John of England, and in the war which he made upon heretics, are set forth in the following article in their historical order, and the cumulative growth of his supremacy forms a subject of increasing interest to the end.

After the great emperors came the great Pope. Within four months of the death of Henry VI, Celestine III had been succeeded by Innocent III, under whom the visions of Gregory VII and Alexander III at last became accomplished facts, the papal authority attained its highest point of influence, and the empire, raised to such heights by Frederick Barbarossa and Henry VI, was reduced to a condition of dependence upon it.

The new Pope had been Lothaire of Segni, a member of the noble Roman house of Conti, who had studied law and theology at Paris and Bologna, and had at an early age won for himself a many-sided reputation as a jurist, a politician, and as a writer. The favor of his uncle, Clement III, had made him cardinal before he was thirty, but under Celestine III he kept in the background, disliked by the Pope, and himself suspicious of the timid and temporizing old man. But on Celestine's death on January 8, 1198, Lothaire, though still only thirty-seven years of age, was at once hailed as his most fitting successor, as the strong man who could win for the Church all the advantages that she might hope to gain from the death of Henry VI. Nor did Innocent's pontificate belie the promise of his early career.

Innocent III possessed a majestic and noble appearance, an unblemished private character, popular manners, a disposition prone to sudden fits of anger and melancholy, and a fierce and indomitable will. He brought to his exalted position the clearly formulated theories of the canonists as to the nature of the papal power, as well as the overweening ambition, the high courage, the keen intelligence and the perseverance and energy necessary to turn the theories of the schools into matters of every-day importance.

His enunciations of the papal doctrine put claims that Hildebrand himself had hardly ventured to advance, in the clearest and most definite light. The Pope was no mere successor of Peter, the vicegerent of man. "The Roman pontiff," he wrote, "is the vicar, not of man, but of God himself." "The Lord gave Peter the rule not only of the Universal Church, but also the rule of the whole world." "The Lord Jesus Christ has set up one ruler over all things as his universal vicar, and as all things in heaven, earth, and hell bow the knee to Christ, so should all obey Christ's vicar, that there be one flock and one shepherd." "No king can reign rightly unless he devoutly serve Christ's vicar." "Princes have power in earth, priests have also power in heaven. Princes reign over the body, priests over the soul. As much as the soul is worthier than the body, so much worthier is the priesthood than the monarchy." "The Sacerdotium is the sun, the Regnum the moon. Kings rule over their respective kingdoms, but Peter rules over the whole earth. The Sacerdotium came by divine creation, the Regnum by man's cunning."

In these unrestricted claims to rule over church and state alike we seem to be back again in the anarchy of the eleventh century. And it was not against the feeble feudal princes of the days of Hildebrand that Innocent III had to contend, but against strong national kings, like Philip of France and John of England. It is significant of the change of the times, that Innocent sees his chief antagonist, not so much in the empire as in the limited localized power of the national kings. When Richard of England had yielded before Henry VI, the national state gave way before the universal authority of the lord of the world. But Innocent claimed that he alone was lord of the world. The empire was but a German or Italian kingdom, ruling over its limited sphere. Only in the papacy was the old Roman tradition of universal monarchy rightly upheld.

Filled with these ambitions of universal monarchy, Innocent's survey took in both the smallest and the greatest of European affairs. Primarily his work was that of an ecclesiastical statesman, and intrenched far upon the authority of the State. We shall see him restoring the papal authority in Rome and in the Patrimony,[53] building up the machinery of papal absolutism, protecting the infant King of Sicily, cherishing the municipal freedom of Italy, making and unmaking kings and emperors at his will, forcing the fiercest of the western sovereigns to acknowledge his feudal supremacy, and the greatest of the kings of France to reform his private life at his commands, giving his orders to the petty monarchs of Spain and Hungary, and promulgating the law of the Church Universal before the assembled prelates of Christendom in the Lateran Council.

Nevertheless, the many-sided Pontiff had not less near to his heart the spiritual and intellectual than the political direction of the universe. He had the utmost zeal for the extension of the kingdom of Christ. The affair of the crusade was, as we shall see, ever his most pressing care, and it was his bitterest grief that all his efforts to rouse the Christian world for the recovery of Jerusalem fell on deaf ears. He was strenuous in upholding orthodoxy against the daring heretics of Southern France. He was sympathetic and considerate to great religious teachers, like Francis and Dominic, from whose work he had the wisdom to anticipate the revival of the inner life of the Church. As many-sided as strong, and successful as he was strong, Innocent III represents it worthily and adequately.

Even before Innocent had attained the chair of Peter, the worst dangers that had so long beset the successors of Alexander III were over. After the death of Henry VI, the Sicilian and the German crowns were separated, and the strong anti-imperial reaction that burst out all over Italy against the oppressive ministers of Henry VI was allowed to run its full course. The danger was not so much of despotism as of anarchy, and Innocent, like Hildebrand, knew how to turn confusion to the advantage of hierarchy.

No real effort was made to obtain for the little Frederick the crowns of both Germany and Sicily, While Philip of Swabia, her brother-in-law, hurried to Germany to maintain, if he could, the unity of the Hohenstaufen empire, Constance was quite content to secure her son's succession in Naples and Sicily by renewing the homage due to the Pope.

Having thus obtained the indispensable papal confirmation, Constance ruled in Naples as a national queen in the name of the little Frederick. She drove away the German bandits, who had made the name of her husband a terror to her subjects. Markwald of Anweiler left his Apulian fiefs[54] for Romagna. But the Pope joined with Constance in hostility to the Germans. Without Innocent's strong and constant support she could hardly have carried out her policy. Recognizing in the renewal of the old papal protection the best hopes for the independence of Sicily, Constance, on her death in 1198, called on Innocent III to act as the guardian of her son. Innocent loyally took up her work, and struggled with all his might to preserve the kingdom of Frederick against his many enemies. But the contest was a long and a fierce one.

No sooner was Constance dead than the Germans came back to their prey. The fierce Markwald, driven from Romagna by the papal triumph, claimed the regency and the custody of the King. The Saracens and Greeks of Sicily, still numerous and active, joined the Germans. Walter, Bishop of Troja, Chancellor of Sicily, weaved deep plots against his master and his overlord. But the general support of the Church gave Innocent a strong weapon. Roffrid, Abbot of Monte Casino, a tried friend of Henry VI, declared for Innocent against Markwald, who in revenge besieged the great monastery, until a summer storm drove him baffled from its walls. But the purchased support of Pisa gave Markwald the command of the sea, and Innocent had too many schemes on foot and too little military power at his command to be able to make easy headway against him.

At last Innocent had reluctant recourse to Count Walter of Brienne, the French husband of Tancred's daughter Albina, and now a claimant for the hereditary fiefs of Tancred, Lecce, and Taranto, from which, despite Henry VI's promise, he had long been driven. For almost the first time in Italian history, Frenchmen were thus called in to drive out the Germans. But it was then as afterward a dangerous experiment. Walter of Brienne and his small French following invaded Apulia, and fought hard against Diepold of Acerra, another of King Henry's Germans. Meanwhile Markwald, now in open alliance with the Bishop of Troja, made himself master of Sicily and regent of the young King. His death in 1202 removed the most dangerous enemy of both Innocent and Frederick. But the war dragged on for years in Apulia, especially after Diepold had slain Walter of Brienne. The turbulent feudal barons of Apulia and Sicily profited by this long reign of anarchy to establish themselves on a permanent basis. At last Innocent sent his own brother, Richard, Count of Segni, to root out the last of the Germans. So successful was he that, in 1208, the Pope himself visited the kingdom of his ward, and arranged for its future government by native lords, helped by his brother, who now received a rich Apulian fief. It was Innocent's glory that he had secured for Frederick the whole Norman inheritance. It was amid such storms and troubles that the young Frederick grew up to manhood.

In Central and Northern Italy, Innocent III was more speedily successful than in the South. On Philip of Swabia's return to Germany, Tuscany and the domains of the Countess Matilda fell away from their foreign lord, and invoked the protection of the Church. The Tuscan cities formed themselves into a new league under papal protection. Only Pisa, proud of her sea power, wealth, and trade, held aloof from the combination. It seemed as if, after a century of delays, the papacy was going to enjoy the inheritance of Matilda,[55] and Innocent eagerly set himself to work to provide for its administration. In the north the Pope maintained friendly relations with the rival communities of the Lombard plain. But his most immediate and brilliant triumph was in establishing his authority over Rome and the Patrimony of St. Peter. On his accession he found his lands just throwing off the yoke of the German garrisons that had kept them in subjection during Henry VI's lifetime. He saw within the city power divided between the præfectus urbis, the delegate of the Emperor, and the summus senator, the mouthpiece of the Roman commune.

Within a month the prefect ceased to be an Imperial officer, and became the servant of the papacy, bound to it by fealty oaths, and receiving from it his office. Within a year the senator also had become the papal nominee, and the whole municipality was controlled by the Pope. No less complete was Innocent's triumph over the nobility of the Campagna. He drove Conrad of Urslingen back to Germany, and restored Spoleto to papal rule. He chased Markwald from Romagna and the March of Ancona to Apulia, and exercised sovereign rights even in the most remote regions that acknowledged him as lord. If it was no very real sway that Innocent wielded, it at least allowed the town leagues and the rustic nobility to go on in their own way, and made it possible for Italy to work out its own destinies. More powerful and more feared in Italy than any of his predecessors, Innocent could contentedly watch the anti-imperial reaction extending over the Alps and desolating Germany by civil war.

Despite the precautions taken by Henry VI, it was soon clear that the German princes would not accept the hereditary rule of a child of three. Philip of Swabia abandoned his Italian domains and hurried to Germany, anxious to do his best for his nephew. But he soon perceived that Frederick's chances were hopeless, and that it was all that he could do to prevent the undisputed election of a Guelf. He was favored by the absence of the two elder sons of Henry the Lion. Henry of Brunswick the eldest, the Count Palatine of the Rhine, was away on a crusade, and was loyal to the Hohenstaufen, since his happy marriage with Agnes. The next son Otto, born at Argenton during his father's first exile, had never seen much of Germany. Brought up at his uncle Richard of Anjou's court, Otto had received many marks of Richard's favor, and looked up to the chivalrous, adventurous King as an ideal of a warrior prince. Richard had made him Earl of Yorkshire, and had invested him in 1196 with the country of Poitou, that he might learn war and statecraft in the same rude school in which Richard had first acquainted himself with arms and politics. Even now Otto was not more than seventeen years of age. Richard himself, as the new vassal of the Empire for Aries and England, was duly summoned to the electoral diet, but his representatives impolitically urged the claims of Count Henry, who was ruled ineligible on account of his absence. Thus it was that when the German magnates at last met for the election on the 8th of March, 1198, at Muehlhausen, their choice fell on Philip the Arabian, who took the title of Philip II.

Many of the magnates had absented themselves from the diet at Muehlhausen, and an irreconcilable band of partisans refused to be bound by its decisions. Richard of England now worked actively for Otto, his favorite nephew, and found support both in the old allies of the Angevins in the Lower Rhineland and the ancient supporters of the house of Guelf. Germany was thus divided into two parties, who completely ignored each other's acts. Three months after the diet of Muehlhausen, another diet met at Cologne and chose Otto of Brunswick as King of the Romans. Three days afterward the young prince was crowned at Aachen.

A ten-years' civil war between Philip II and Otto IV now devastated the Germany that Barbarossa and Henry VI had left so prosperous. The majority of the princes remained firm to Philip, who also had the support of the strong and homogeneous official class of ministeriales that had been the best helpers of his father and brother. Nevertheless, Otto had enough of a party to carry on the struggle. On his side was Cologne, the great mart of Lower Germany, so important from its close trading relations with England, and now gradually shaking itself free of its archbishops. The friendship of Canute of Denmark and the Guelf tradition combined to give him his earliest and greatest success in the North. It was the interest of the baronage to prolong a struggle which secured their own independence at the expense of the central authority. Both parties looked for outside help. Otto, besides his Danish friends, relied on his uncle Richard, and, after his death, on his uncle John. Philip formed a league with his namesake Philip of France. But distant princes could do but little to determine the result of the contest. It was of more moment that both appealed to Innocent III, and that the Pope willingly accepted the position of arbiter. "The settlement of this matter," he declared, "belongs to the apostolic see, mainly because it was the apostolic see that transferred the Empire from the East to the West, and ultimately because the same see confers the Imperial crown."

In March, 1201, Innocent issued his decision. "We pronounce," he declared, "Philip unworthy of empire, and absolve all who have taken oaths of fealty to him as king. Inasmuch as our dearest son in Christ, Otto, is industrious, discreet, strong, and constant, himself devoted to the Church and descended on each side from a devout stock, we, by the authority of St. Peter, receive him as king, and will in due course bestow upon him the imperial crown." The grateful Otto promised in return to maintain all the possessions and privileges of the Roman Church, including the inheritance of the countess Matilda.

Philip of Swabia still held his own, and the extravagance of the papal claim led to many of the bishops as well as the lay magnates of Germany joining in a declaration that no former pope had ever presumed to interfere in an imperial election. But the swords of his German followers were a stronger argument in favor of Philip's claims than the protests of his supporters against papal assumptions. As time went on, the Hohenstaufen slowly got the better of the Guelfs. With the falling away of the North, Otto's cause became distinctly the losing one. In 1206, Otto was defeated outside the walls of Cologne, and the great trading city was forced to transfer its obedience to his rival. In 1207 Philip became so strong that Innocent was constrained to reconsider his position, and suggested to Otto the propriety of renouncing his claims. But in June, 1208, Philip was treacherously murdered at Bamberg by his faithless vassal, Otto of Wittelsbach, to whom he had refused his daughter's hand. It was no political crime, but a deed of private vengeance. It secured, however, the position of Otto, for the ministeriales now transferred their allegiance to him, and there was no Hohenstaufen candidate ready to oppose him. Otto, moreover, did not scruple to undergo a fresh election which secured for him universal recognition in Germany. By marrying Beatrice, Philip of Swabia's daughter, he sought to unite the rival houses, while he conciliated Innocent by describing himself as King "by the grace of God and the Pope." Next year he crossed the Alps to Italy, and bound himself by oath, not only to allow the papacy the privileges that he had already granted, but to grant complete freedom of ecclesiastical elections, and to support the Pope in his struggle against heresy. In October, 1209, he was crowned Emperor at Rome. After ten years of waiting, Innocent, already master of Italy, had procured for his dependent both the German kingdom and the Roman Empire.

Despite his preoccupation with Italy and Germany, the early years of Innocent's pontificate saw him busily engaged in upholding the papal authority and the moral order of the Church in every country in Europe. No consideration of the immediate interests of the Roman see ever prevented him from maintaining his principles even against powerful sovereigns who could do much to help forward his general plans. The most conspicuous instance of this was Innocent's famous quarrel with Philip Augustus of France, when to vindicate a simple principle of Christian morals he did not hesitate to abandon the alliance of the "eldest son of the Church" at a time when the fortunes of the papacy were everywhere doubtful. Philip's first wife, Isabella of Hainault, the mother of the future Louis VIII, had died in 1190, just before her husband had started on his crusade. In 1193 Philip negotiated a second marriage with Ingeborg, the sister of Canute VI, the powerful King of Denmark, hoping to obtain from his Danish brother-in-law substantial help against England and the Empire. Philip did not get the expected political advantages from the new connection, and at once took a strong dislike to the lady. On the day after the marriage Philip refused to have anything more to do with his bride. Within three months, he persuaded a synod of complaisant French bishops of Compiègne to pronounce the marriage void by reason of a remote kinship that existed between the two parties.

Ingeborg was young, timid, friendless, helpless, and utterly ignorant of the French tongue, but King Canute took up her cause, and, from her retreat in a French convent, she appealed to Rome against the wickedness of the French King and clergy. Celestine III proved her friend, and finding protestations of no avail, he finally quashed the sentence of the French bishops and declared her the lawful wife of the French King. But Philip persisted in his repudiation of Ingeborg, and Celestine contented himself with remonstrances and warnings that were utterly disregarded. In 1196 Philip found a fresh wife in Agnes, a lady of the powerful house of Andechs-Meran, whose authority was great in Thuringia, and whose Alpine lordships soon developed into the country of Tyrol.

Innocent at once proved a stronger champion of Ingeborg than the weak and aged Celestine. He forthwith warned Philip and the French bishops that they had no right to put asunder those whom God had joined together. "Recall your lawful wife," he wrote to Philip, "and then we will hear all that you can righteously urge. If you do not do this, no power shall move us to right or left, until justice be done." A papal legate was now sent to France, threatening excommunication and interdict, were Ingeborg not immediately reinstated in her place. For a few months the Pope hesitated, moved, no doubt, by his Italian and German troubles, and fearful lest his action against a Christian prince should delay the hoped-for crusade. But he gradually turned the leaders of the French clergy from their support of Philip, and at last, in February, 1200, an interdict was pronounced forbidding the public celebration of the rites of the Church in the whole lands that owed obedience to the King of France.

Philip Augustus held out fiercely for a time, declaring that he would rather lose half his lands than be separated from Agnes. Meanwhile he used pressure on his bishops to make them disregard the interdict, and vigorously intrigued with the cardinals, seeking to build up a French party in the papal curia. Innocent so far showed complacency that the legate he sent to France was the King's kinsman, Octavin, Cardinal-bishop of Ostia, who was anxious to make Philip's humiliation as light as possible. His labors were eased by the partial submission of Philip, who in September visited Ingeborg, and promised to take her again as his wife, and so gave an excuse to end the interdict. Philip still claimed that his marriage should be dissolved; though here again he suddenly abandoned a suit which he probably saw was hopeless. The death of Agnes of Meran in July, 1201, made a complete reconciliation less difficult. Next year the Pope legitimated the children of Agnes and Philip, on the ground that the sentence of divorce, pronounced by the French bishops, gave the King reasonable grounds for entering in good faith on his union with her. Ingeborg was still refused the rights of a queen, and constantly besought the Pope to have pity on her forlorn condition. The Pope was now forced to content himself with remonstrances. Philip declared that a baleful charm separated him from Ingeborg, and again begged the Pope to divorce him from a union based on sorcery and witchcraft.

The growing need of the French alliance now somewhat slackened the early zeal of Innocent for the cause of the Queen. But no real cordiality was possible as long as the strained relations of Ingeborg and Philip continued. At last, in 1213, in the very crisis of his fortunes, Philip completed his tardy reconciliation with his wife, after they had been separated for twenty years. Henceforth Philip was the most active ally of the papacy.

While thus dealing with Philip of France, Innocent enjoyed easier triumphs over the lesser kings of Europe. It was his ambition to break through the traditional limits that separated the church from the state, and to bind as many as he could of the kings of Europe to the papacy by ties of political vassalage. The time-honored feudal superiority of the popes over the Norman kingdom of Sicily had been the first precedent for this most unecclesiastical of all papal aggressions. Already others of the smaller kingdoms of Europe, conspicuous among which was Portugal, had followed the example of the Normans in becoming vassals of the holy see. Under Innocent at least three states supplemented ecclesiastical by political dependence on the papacy. Sancho, King of Portugal, who had striven to repudiate the former submission of Alfonso I, was in the end forced to accept the papal suzerainty. Peter, King of Aragon, went in 1204 to Rome and was solemnly crowned king by Innocent. Afterward Peter deposited his crown on the high altar of St. Peter's and condescended to receive the investiture of his kingdom from the Pope, holding it as a perpetual fief of the holy see, and promising tribute to Innocent and his successors. In 1213 a greater monarch than the struggling Christian kings of the Iberian peninsula was forced, after a long struggle, to make an even more abject submission.

The long strife of Innocent with John of Anjou, about the disputed election to the see of Canterbury, was fought with the same weapons which the Pope had already employed against the King of France. But John held out longer. Interdict was followed by excommunication and threatened deposition. At last the English King surrendered his crown to the papal agent Pandulf, and, like Peter of Aragon, received it back as a vassal of the papacy, bound by an annual tribute.

Nor were these the only kings that sought the support of the great Pope. The schismatic princes of the East vied in ardor with the Catholic princes of the West in their quest of Innocent's favor. King Leo of Armenia begged for his protection. The Bulgarian prince John besought the Pope to grant him a royal crown. Innocent posed as a mediator in Hungary between the two brothers, Emeric and Andrew, who were struggling for the crown. Canute of Denmark, zealous for his sister's honor, was his humble suppliant. Poland was equally obedient. The Duke of Bohemia accepted the papal reproof for allying himself with Philip of Swabia.

Despite his vigor and his authority, Innocent's constant interference with the internal concerns of every country in Europe did not pass unchallenged. Even the kings who invoked his intercession were constantly in conflict with him. Besides his great quarrels in Germany, France, and England, Innocent had many minor wars to wage against the princes of Europe. For five years the kingdom of Leon lay under interdict because its king Alfonso had married his cousin, Berengaria of Castile, in the hope of securing the peace between the two realms. It was only after the lady had borne five children to Alfonso that she voluntarily terminated the obnoxious union, and Innocent found it prudent, as in France, to legitimize the offspring of a marriage which he had denounced as incestuous. Not one of the princes of the peninsula was spared. Sancho of Navarre incurred interdict by reason of suspected dealings with the Saracens, while the marriage of his sister with Peter of Aragon, the vassal of the Pope, involved both kings in a contest with Innocent. Not only did the monarchs of Europe resent, so far as they were able, the Pope's haughty policy; for the first time the peoples of their realms began to make common cause with them against the political aggressions of the papacy. The nobles of Aragon protested against King Peter's submission to the papacy, declared that his surrender of their kingdom was invalid, and prevented the payment of the promised tribute. When John of England procured his Roman overlord's condemnation of Magna Charta, the support of Rome was of no avail to prevent his indignant subjects combining to drive him from the throne, and did not even hinder Louis of France, the son of the papalist Philip II, from accepting their invitation to become English king in his stead. It was only by a repudiation of this policy, and by an acceptance of the Great Charter, that the papacy could secure the English throne for John's young son, Henry III, and thus continue for a time its precarious overlordship over England.

For the moment Innocent's iron policy crushed opposition, but in adding the new hostility of the national kings and the rising nations of Europe to the old hostility of the declining empire, Innocent was entering into a perilous course of conduct, which, within a century, was to prove fatal to one of the strongest of his successors. The more political the papal authority became, the more difficult it was to uphold its prestige as the source of law, of morality, of religion. Innocent himself did not lose sight of the higher ideal because he strove so firmly after more earthly aims. His successors were not always so able or so high-minded. And it was as the protectors of the people, not as the enemies of their political rights, that the great popes of the eleventh and twelfth centuries had obtained their wonderful ascendency over the best minds of Europe.

The coronation of Otto IV did not end Innocent's troubles with the Empire. It was soon followed by an open breach between the Pope and his nominee, from which ultimately developed something like a general European war, between a league of partisans of the Pope and a league of partisans of Otto. It was inevitable that Otto, as a crowned emperor, should look upon the papal power in a way very different from that in which he had regarded it when a faction leader struggling for the crown. Then the support of the Pope was indispensable. Now the autocracy of the Pope was to be feared. The Hohenstaufen ministeriales, who now surrounded the Guelfic Emperor, raised his ideals and modified his policy. Henry of Kalden, the old minister of Henry VI, was now his closest confidant, and under his direction it soon became Otto's ambition to continue the policy of the Hohenstaufen. The great object of Henry VI had been the union of Sicily with the Empire. To the alarm and disgust of Innocent, his ancient dependent now strove to continue Henry VI's policy by driving out Henry VI's son from his Sicilian inheritance. Otto now established relations with Diepold and the other German adventurers, who still defied Frederick II and the Pope in Apulia. He soon claimed the inheritance of Matilda as well as the Sicilian monarchy. In August, 1210, he occupied Matilda's Tuscan lands, and in November invaded Apulia, and prepared to despatch a Pisan fleet against Sicily. Innocent was moved to a terrible wrath. On hearing of the capture of Capua, and the revolt of Salerno and Naples, he excommunicated the Emperor and freed his subjects from their oaths of fealty to him. But, despite the threats of the Church, Otto conquered most of Apulia and was equally successful in reviving the Imperial authority in Northern Italy.

Innocent saw the power that he had built up so carefully in Italy crumbling rapidly away. In his despair he turned to France and Germany for help against the audacious Guelf. Philip Augustus, though still in bad odor at Rome through his persistent hostility to Ingeborg, was now an indispensable ally. He actively threw himself into the Pope's policy, and French and papal agents combined to stir up disaffection against Otto in Germany. The haughty manners and the love of the young King for Englishmen and Saxons had already excited disaffection. It was believed that Otto wished to set up a centralized despotism of court officials, levying huge taxes on the model of the Angevin administrative system of his grandfathers and uncles. The bishops now took the lead in organizing a general defection from the absent Emperor. In September, 1211, a gathering of disaffected magnates, among whom were the newly made king Ottocar of Bohemia and the dukes of Austria and Bavaria, assembled at Nuremberg. They treated the papal sentence as the deposition of Otto, and pledged themselves to elect as their new king Frederick of Sicily, the sometime ward of the Pope. It was not altogether good news to the Pope that the German nobles had, in choosing the son of Henry VI, renewed the union of German and Sicily. But Innocent felt that the need of setting up an effective opposition to Otto was so pressing that he put out of sight the general in favor of the immediate interests of the Roman see. He accepted Frederick as emperor, only stipulating that he should renew his homage for the Sicilian crown, and consequently renounce an inalienable union between Sicily and the Empire. Frederick now left Sicily, repeated his submission to Innocent at Rome, and crossed the Alps for Germany.

Otto had already abandoned Italy to meet the threatened danger in the North. Misfortunes soon showered thick upon him. His Hohenstaufen wife, Beatrice, died, and her loss lessened his hold on Southern Germany. When Frederick appeared, Swabia and Bavaria were already eager to welcome the heir of the mighty southern line, and aid him against the audacious Saxon. The spiritual magnates flocked to the side of the friend and pupil of the Pope. In December, 1212, followed Frederick's formal election and his coronation at Mainz by the archbishop Siegfried. Early in 1213 Henry of Kalden appeared at his court. Henceforward the important class of the ministeriales was divided. While some remained true to Otto, others gradually went back to the personal representative of Hohenstaufen.

Otto was now thrown back on Saxony and the Lower Rhineland. He again took up his quarters with the faithful citizens of Cologne, when he appealed for help to his uncle, John of England, still under the papal ban. With English help he united the princes of the Netherlands in a party of opposition to the Pope and the Hohenstaufen. Frederick answered by a closer and a more effective league with France. Even before his coronation he had met Louis, the son of Philip Augustus, at Vaucouleurs. All Europe seemed arming at the bidding of the Pope and Emperor.

John of England now hastily reconciled himself to Innocent, at the price of the independence of his kingdom. He thus became in a better position to aid his excommunicated nephew, and revenge the loss of Normandy and Anjou on Philip Augustus. His plan was now a twofold one. He himself summoned the barons of England to follow him in an attempt to recover his ancient lands on the Loire. Meanwhile, Otto and the Netherlandish lords were encouraged, by substantial English help, to carry out a combined attack on France from the north. The opposition of the English barons reduced to comparative insignificance the expedition to Poitou, but a very considerable army gathered together under Otto, and took up its position in the neighborhood of Tournai. Among the French King's vassals, Ferrand, Count of Flanders, long hostile to his overlord Philip, and the Count of Boulogne fought strenuously on Otto's side; while, of the Imperial vassals, the Count of Holland and Duke of Brabant (Lower Lorraine) were among Otto's most active supporters. A considerable English contingent came also, headed by Otto's bastard uncle, William Longsword, Earl of Salisbury. Philip himself commanded the chivalry of France, leaving his son Louis to fight against John in Poitou. On July 27th the decisive battle was fought at Bouvines, a few miles southwest of Tournai. The army of France and Church gained an overwhelming victory over the league which had incurred the papal ban, and Otto's fortunes were utterly shattered. He soon lost all his hold over the Rhineland, and was forced to retreat to the ancient domains of his house in Saxony. His remaining friends made their peace with Philip and Frederick. The defection of the Wittelsbachers lost his last hold in the south of Germany, and the desertion of Valdemar of Denmark deprived him of a strong friend in the North. John withdrew from Continental politics to be beaten more decisively by his barons than he had been beaten in Poitou or at Bouvines.

Frederick II, was now undisputed King of the Romans, and Innocent III had won another triumph. By the Golden Bull of Eger (July, 1213) Frederick had already renewed the concessions made by Otto to the Church, and promised obedience to the holy see. In 1216 he pledged himself to separate Sicily from the Empire, and establish his son Henry there as king, under the supremacy of the Church. But, like his other triumphs, Innocent's victory over the Empire was purchased at no small cost. For the first time, a German national irritation at the aggressions of the papacy began to be distinctly felt. It found an adequate expression in the indignant verses of Walther von der Vogelweide, protesting against the priests who strove to upset the rights of the laity, and denouncing the greed and pride of the foreigners who profited by the humiliation of Germany.

Amid all the distractions of western politics, Innocent III ardently strove to revive the crusading spirit. He never succeeded in raising all Europe, as several of his predecessors had done. But after great efforts, and the eloquent preaching of Fulk of Neuilly he stirred up a fair amount of enthusiasm for the crusading cause, and, in 1204, a considerable crusading army, mainly French, mustered at Venice. It was the bitterest disappointment of Innocent's life that the Fourth Crusade never reached Palestine, but was diverted to the conquest of the Greek empire. Yet the establishment of a Catholic Latin empire at Constantinople, at the expense of the Greek schismatics, was no small triumph. Not disheartened by his first failure, Innocent still urged upon Europe the need of the holy war. If no expedition against the Saracens of Syria marked the result of his efforts, his pontificate saw the extension of the crusading movement to other lands. Innocent preached the crusade against the Moors of Spain, and rejoiced in the news of the momentous victory of the Christians at Navas de Tolosa. He saw the beginnings of a fresh crusade against the obstinate heathen on the eastern shores of the Baltic.

But all these crusades were against pagans and infidels. Innocent made a much greater new departure when he proclaimed the first crusade directed against a Christian land. The Albigensian crusade succeeded in destroying the most dangerous and widespread popular heresy that Christianity had witnessed since the fall of the Roman Empire, and Innocent rejoiced that his times saw the Church purged of its worst blemish. But in extending the benefits of a crusade to Christians fighting against Christians, he handed on a precedent which was soon fatally abused by his successors. In crushing out the young national life of Southern France the papacy again set a people against itself. The denunciations of the German Minnesinger were reechoed in the complaints of the last of the Troubadours. Rome had ceased to do harm to Turks and Saracens, but had stirred up Christians to war against fellow-Christians. God and his saints abandon the greedy, the strife-loving, the unjust worldly Church. The picture is darkly colored by a partisan, but in every triumph of Innocent there lay the shadow of future trouble.

Crusades, even against heretics and infidels, are the work of earthly force rather than of spiritual influence. It was to build up the great outward corporation of the Church that all these labors of Innocent mainly tended. Even his additions to the canon law, his reforms of ecclesiastical jurisdiction, dealt with the external rather than the internal life of the Church. The criticism of James of Vitry, that the Roman curia was so busy in secular affairs that it hardly turned a thought to spiritual things, is clearly applicable to much of Innocent's activity. But the many-sided Pope did not ignore the religious wants of the Church. His crusade against heresy was no mere war against enemies of the wealth and power of the Church. The new tendencies that were to transform the spiritual life of the thirteenth century were not strange to him. He favored the early work of Dominic; he had personal dealings with Francis, and showed his sympathy with the early work of the poor man of Assisi. But it is as the conqueror and organizer rather than the priest or prophet that Innocent made his mark in the Church. It is significant that, with all his greatness, he never attained the honors of sanctity.

Toward the end of his life, Innocent held a general council in the basilica of St. John Lateran. A vast gathering of bishops heads of orders, and secular dignitaries gave brilliancy to the gathering and enhanced the glory of the Pontiff. Enthroned over more than four hundred bishops, the Pope proudly declared the law to the world. "Two things we have specially to heart," wrote Innocent, in summoning the assembly, "the deliverance of the Holy Land and the reform of the Church Universal." In its vast collection of seventy canons, the Lateran Council strove hard to carry out the Pope's programme. It condemned the dying heresies of the Albigenses and the Cathari, and prescribed the methods and punishments of the unrepentant heretic. It strove to rekindle zeal for the crusade. It drew up a drastic scheme for reforming the internal life and discipline of the Church. It strove to elevate the morals and the learning of the clergy, to check their worldliness and covetousness, and to restrain them from abusing the authority of the Church through excess of zeal or more corrupt motives. It invited bishops to set up free schools to teach poor scholars grammar and theology. It forbade trial by battle and trial by ordeal. It subjected the existing monastic orders to stricter superintendence, and forbade the establishment of new monastic rules. It forbade superstitious practices and the worship of spurious or unauthorized relics.

The whole series of canons sought to regulate and ameliorate the influence of the Church on society. If many of the abuses aimed at were too deeply rooted to be overthrown by mere legislation, the attempt speaks well for the character and intelligence of Pope and council. All mediaeval lawmaking, civil and ecclesiastical alike, was but the promulgation of an ideal, rather than the issuing of precepts meant to be literally executed. But no more serious attempt at rooting out inveterate evils was ever made in the Middle Ages than in this council.

The formal enunciation of this lofty programme of reform brought Innocent's pontificate to a glorious end. The Pontiff devoted what little remained of his life to hurrying on the preparations for the projected crusade, which was to set out 1217. But in the summer of 1216 Innocent died at Perugia, when only fifty-six years old. If not the greatest he was the most powerful of all the popes. For nearly twenty years the whole history of Europe groups itself round his doings.

SIGNING OF MAGNA CHARTA

A.D. 1215

DAVID HUME

The Great Charter is one of the most famous documents in history. Regarded as the foundation of English civil liberty, it also stands as the historic prototype of later declarations of human freedom in various lands. In the Great Charter, as observed by Green, "the vague expressions of the older charters were exchanged for precise and elaborate provisions. The Great Charter marks the transition from the age of traditional rights to the age of written legislation, of parliaments and statutes, which was soon to come."

King John of England, although compelled to submit to the loss of his French provinces in 1204, never after lost sight of plans for the renewal of the war with France. A bitter controversy with Pope Innocent III began over an election for the archbishopric of Canterbury, and resulted in a bull deposing John, 1212, with a command to Philip of France to execute the deposition. John made terms with the Pope by agreeing to hold his kingdom in fief from the pontiff, and to pay an annual tribute of one thousand marks (1213).

John then invaded France, in alliance with Otho IV, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, and others, but was defeated at Bouvines, near Lille, 1214. This ended John's endeavors to recover his lost power in France, and he could only think henceforth of ruling peaceably his own kingdom and preserving, to his own advantage, his now close connection with the Pope. But although the English King's reign had been full of unfortunate events, the last and most grievous of his trials still awaited him, and "he was destined to pass through a series of more humiliating circumstances than had ever yet fallen to the lot of any other monarch."

Under the feudal law of William the Conqueror, the ancient liberties of the Anglo-Saxons were greatly curtailed; in fact, the whole English people were reduced to a state of vassalage, which for the majority closely bordered upon actual slavery. Even the proud Norman barons themselves submitted to a kingly prerogative more absolute than was usual in feudal governments. A charter of comparative liberality had been granted by Henry I, renewed by Stephen, and confirmed by Henry II, but had never, either in letter or spirit, been made effective. And now came the great crisis in which the matters at issue—first between the King and his barons, but ultimately between the Grown and the subjects at large—were to be adjusted. The event was hastened by the exactions and impositions of John himself, and by personal as well as official conduct which rendered him odious to his people—these causes at length producing a general combination against him.

The effect of John's lawless practices had already appeared in the general demand made by the barons of a restoration of their privileges; and after he had reconciled himself to the Pope, by abandoning the independence of the kingdom, he appeared to all his subjects in so mean a light that they universally thought they might with safety and honor insist upon their pretensions.

But nothing forwarded this confederacy so much as the concurrence of Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury; a man whose memory, though he was obtruded on the nation by a palpable encroachment of the see of Rome, ought always to be respected by the English. This prelate—whether he was moved by the generosity of his nature and his affection to public good or had entertained an animosity against John, on account of the long opposition made by that prince to his election, or thought that an acquisition of liberty to the people would serve to increase and secure the privileges of the Church—had formed the plan of reforming the government. In a private meeting of some principal barons at London, he showed them a copy of Henry I's charter, which, he said, he had happily found in a monastery; and he exhorted them to insist on the renewal and observance of it. The barons swore that they would sooner lose their lives than depart from so reasonable a demand.

The confederacy began now to spread wider, and to comprehend almost all the barons in England; and a new and more numerous meeting was summoned by Langton at St. Edmundsbury, under color of devotion. He again produced to the assembly the old charter of Henry; renewed his exhortations of unanimity and vigor in the prosecution of their purpose; and represented, in the strongest colors, the tyranny to which they had so long been subjected, and from which it now behooved them to free themselves and their posterity. The barons, inflamed by his eloquence, incited by the sense of their own wrongs, and encouraged by the appearance of their power and numbers, solemnly took an oath, before the high altar, to adhere to each other, to insist on their demands, and to make endless war on the King till he should submit to grant them. They agreed that, after the festival of Christmas, they would prefer in a body their common petition; and in the mean time they separated, after mutually engaging that they would put themselves in a posture of defence, would enlist men and purchase arms, and would supply their castles with the necessary provisions.

The barons appeared in London on the day appointed, and demanded of the King, that, in consequence of his own oath before the primate, as well as in deference to their just rights, he should grant them a renewal of Henry's charter, and a confirmation of the laws of St. Edward. The King, alarmed with their zeal and unanimity, as well as with their power, required a delay; promised that, at the festival of Easter, he would give them a positive answer to their petition; and offered them the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of Ely, and the Earl of Pembroke as sureties for his fulfilling this engagement. The barons accepted of the terms, and peaceably returned to their castles.

During this interval, John, in order to break or subdue the league of his barons, endeavored to avail himself of the ecclesiastical power, of whose influence he had, from his own recent misfortunes, had such fatal experience. He granted to the clergy a charter, relinquishing forever that important prerogative for which his father and all his ancestors had zealously contended; yielding to them the free election on all vacancies; reserving only the power to issue a congé d'élire, and to subjoin a confirmation of the election; and declaring that, if either of these were withheld, the choice should nevertheless be deemed just and valid.

He made a vow to lead an army into Palestine against the infidels, and he took on him the cross, in hopes that he should receive from the Church that protection which she tendered to everyone that had entered into this sacred and meritorious engagement. And he sent to Rome his agent, William de Mauclerc, in order to appeal to the Pope against the violence of his barons, and procure him a favorable sentence from that powerful tribunal. The barons, also, were not negligent on their part in endeavoring to engage the Pope in their interests. They despatched Eustace de Vescie to Rome; laid their case before Innocent as their feudal lord, and petitioned him to interpose his authority with the King, and oblige him to restore and confirm all their just and undoubted privileges.

Innocent beheld with regret the disturbances which had arisen in England, and was much inclined to favor John in his pretensions. He had no hopes of retaining and extending his newly acquired superiority over that kingdom, but by supporting so base and degenerate a prince, who was willing to sacrifice every consideration to his present safety; and he foresaw that if the administration should fall into the hands of those gallant and high-spirited barons, they would vindicate the honor, liberty, and independence of the nation, with the same ardor which they now exerted in defence of their own. He wrote letters, therefore, to the prelates, to the nobility, and to the King himself. He exhorted the first to employ their good offices in conciliating peace between the contending parties, and putting an end to civil discord. To the second he expressed his disapprobation of their conduct in employing force to extort concessions from their reluctant sovereign; the last he advised to treat his nobles with grace and indulgence, and to grant them such of their demands as should appear just and reasonable.

The barons easily saw, from the tenor of these letters, that they must reckon on having the Pope, as well as the King, for their adversary; but they had already advanced too far to recede from their pretensions, and their passions were so deeply engaged that it exceeded even the power of superstition itself any longer to control them. They also foresaw that the thunders of Rome, when not seconded by the efforts of the English ecclesiastics, would be of small avail against them; and they perceived that the most considerable of the prelates, as well as all the inferior clergy, professed the highest approbation of their cause. Besides that these men were seized with the national passion for laws and liberty, blessings of which they themselves expected to partake, there concurred very powerful causes to loosen their devoted attachment to the apostolic see. It appeared, from the late usurpations of the Roman Pontiff, that he intended to reap alone all the advantages accruing from that victory, which under his banners, though at their own peril, they had everywhere obtained over the civil magistrate.

The Pope assumed a despotic power over all the churches; their particular customs, privileges, and immunities were treated with disdain; even the canons of general councils were set aside by his dispensing power; the whole administration of the Church was centred in the court of Rome; all preferments ran, of course, in the same channel; and the provincial clergy saw, at least felt, that there was a necessity for limiting these pretensions.

The legate, Nicholas, in filling those numerous vacancies which had fallen in England during an interdict of six years, had proceeded in the most arbitrary manner; and had paid no regard, in conferring dignities, to personal merit, to rank, to the inclination of the electors, or to the customs of the country. The English Church was universally disgusted; and Langton himself, though he owed his elevation to an encroachment of the Romish see, was no sooner established in his high office than he became jealous of the privilege annexed to it, and formed attachments with the country subjected to his jurisdiction. These causes, though they opened slowly the eyes of men, failed not to produce their effect; they set bounds to the usurpations of the papacy; the tide first stopped, and then turned against the sovereign Pontiff; and it is otherwise inconceivable how that age, so prone to superstition, and so sunk in ignorance, or rather so devoted to a spurious erudition, could have escaped falling into an absolute and total slavery under the court of Rome.

About the time that the Pope's letters arrived in England, the malcontent barons, on the approach of the festival of Easter, when they were to expect the King's answer to their petition, met by agreement at Stamford; and they assembled a force consisting of above two thousand knights, besides their retainers and inferior persons without number. Elated with their power, they advanced in a body to Brackley, within fifteen miles of Oxford, the place where the court then resided; and they there received a message from the King, by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Earl of Pembroke, desiring to know what those liberties were which they so zealously challenged from their sovereign. They delivered to these messengers a schedule, containing the chief articles of their demands; which was no sooner shown to the King than he burst into a furious passion, and asked why the barons did not also demand of him his kingdom; swearing that he would never grant them such liberties as must reduce himself to slavery.

No sooner were the confederate nobles informed of John's reply than they chose Robert Fitz-Walter their general, whom they called "the mareschal of the army of God and of Holy Church "; and they proceeded without further ceremony to levy war upon the King, They besieged the castle of Northampton during fifteen days, though without success; the gates of Bedford castle were willingly opened to them by William Beauchamp, its owner; they advanced to Ware on their way to London, where they held a correspondence with the principal citizens; they were received without opposition into the capital; and finding now the great superiority of their force, they issued proclamations, requiring the other barons to join them, and menacing them, in case of refusal or delay, with committing devastation on their houses and estates. In order to show what might be expected from their prosperous arms, they made incursions from London, and laid waste the King's parks and palaces; and all the barons, who had hitherto carried the semblance of supporting the royal party, were glad of this pretence for openly joining a cause which they always had secretly favored. The King was left at Odiham, in Hampshire, with a poor retinue of only seven knights, and after trying several expedients to elude the blow, after offering to refer all differences to the Pope alone, or to eight barons, four to be chosen by himself, and four by the confederates, he found himself at last obliged to submit at discretion.

A conference between the King and the barons was appointed at Runnymede, between Windsor and Staines; a place which has ever since been extremely celebrated, on account of this great event. The two parties encamped apart, like open enemies; and after a debate of a few days, the King, with a facility somewhat suspicious, signed and sealed the charter which was required of him. This famous deed, commonly called the "Great Charter," either granted or secured very important liberties and privileges to every order of men in the kingdom: to the clergy, to the barons, and to the people. The freedom of elections was secured to the clergy; the former charter of the King was confirmed, by which the necessity of a royal congé d'élire and confirmation was superseded; all check upon appeals to Rome was removed, by the allowance granted every man to depart the kingdom at pleasure, and the fines to be imposed on the clergy, for any offence, were ordained to be proportional to their lay estates, not to their ecclesiastical benefices.

The privileges granted to the barons were either abatements in the rigor of the feudal law or determinations in points which had been left by that law or had become, by practice, arbitrary and ambiguous. The reliefs of heirs succeeding to a military fee were ascertained: an earl's and baron's at a hundred marks, a knight's at a hundred shillings. It was ordained by the charter that, if the heir be a minor, he shall, immediately upon his majority, enter upon his estate, without paying any relief; the king shall not sell his wardship; he shall levy only reasonable profits upon the estate, without committing waste or hurting the property; he shall uphold the castles, houses, mills, parks, and ponds, and if he commit the guardianship of the estate to the sheriff or any other, he shall previously oblige them to find surety to the same purpose.

During the minority of a baron, while his lands are in wardship, and are not in his own possession, no debt which he owes to the Jews shall bear any interest. Heirs shall be married without disparagement; and before the marriage be contracted, the nearest relatives of the person shall be informed of it. A widow, without paying any relief, shall enter upon her dower, the third part of her husband's rents; she shall not be compelled to marry, so long as she chooses to continue single; she shall only give security never to marry without her lord's consent. The king shall not claim the wardship of any minor who holds lands by military tenure of a baron, on pretence that he also holds lands of the crown by socage or any other tenure. Scutages shall be estimated at the same rate as in the time of Henry I; and no scutage or aid, except in the three general feudal cases—the king's captivity, the knighting of his eldest son, and the marrying of his eldest daughter—shall be imposed but by the great council of the kingdom; the prelates, earls, and great barons shall be called to this great council, each by a particular writ; the lesser barons by a general summons of the sheriff. The king shall not seize any baron's land for a debt to the crown if the baron possesses as many goods and chattels as are sufficient to discharge the debt. No man shall be obliged to perform more service for his fee than he is bound to by his tenure. No governor or constable of a castle shall oblige any knight to give money for castle guard, if the knight be willing to perform the service in person, or by another able-bodied man; and if the knight be in the field himself, by the king's command, he shall be exempted from all other service of this nature. No vassal shall be allowed to sell so much of his land as to incapacitate himself from performing his service to his lord.

These were the principal articles, calculated for the interest of the barons; and had the charter contained nothing further, national happiness and liberty had been very little promoted by it, as it would only have tended to increase the power and independence of an order of men who were already too powerful, and whose yoke might have become more heavy on the people than even that of an absolute monarch. But the barons, who alone drew and imposed on the prince this memorable charter, were necessitated to insert in it other clauses of a more extensive and more beneficent nature: they could not expect the concurrence of the people without comprehending, together with their own, the interests of inferior ranks of men; and all provisions which the barons for their own sake were obliged to make in order to insure the free and equitable administration of justice, tended directly to the benefit of the whole community. The following were the principal clauses of this nature:

It was ordained that all the privileges and immunities above mentioned, granted to the barons against the King, should be extended by the barons to their inferior vassals. The King bound himself not to grant any writ empowering a baron to levy aid from his vassals except in the three feudal cases. One weight and one measure shall be established throughout the kingdom. Merchants shall be allowed to transact all business without being exposed to any arbitrary tolls and impositions; they and all freemen shall be allowed to go out of the kingdom and return to it at pleasure; London and all cities and burghs shall preserve their ancient liberties, immunities, and free customs; aids shall not be required of them but by the consent of the great council; no towns or individuals shall be obliged to make or support bridges but by ancient custom; the goods of every freeman shall be disposed of according to his will; if he die intestate, his heirs shall succeed to them. No officer of the crown shall take any horses, carts, or wood, without the consent of the owner. The king's courts of justice shall be stationary, and shall no longer follow his person; they shall be open to everyone; and justice shall no longer be sold, refused, or delayed by them.

Circuits shall be regularly held every year; the inferior tribunals of justice, the county court, sheriff's turn, and courtleet shall meet at their appointed time and place; the sheriffs shall be incapacitated to hold pleas of the crown, and shall not put any person upon his trial, from rumor or suspicion alone, but upon the evidence of lawful witnesses. No freeman shall be taken or imprisoned, or dispossessed of his free tenement and liberties, or outlawed, or banished, or anywise hurt or injured, unless by the legal judgment of his peers or by the law of the land; and all who suffered otherwise in this or the two former reigns shall be restored to their rights and possessions. Every freeman shall be fined in proportion to his fault; and no fine shall be levied on him to his utter ruin; even a villein or rustic shall not by any fine be bereaved of his carts, ploughs, and implements of husbandry. This was the only article calculated for the interests of this body of men, probably at that time the most numerous in the kingdom.

It must be confessed that the former articles of the Great Charter contain such mitigations and explanations of the feudal law as are reasonable and equitable; and that the latter involve all the chief outlines of a legal government, and provide for the equal distribution of justice and free enjoyment of property; the great objects for which political society was at first founded by men, which the people have a perpetual and unalienable right to recall, and which no time, nor precedent, nor statute, nor positive institution ought to deter them from keeping ever uppermost in their thoughts and attention.

Though the provisions made by this charter might, conformably to the genius of the age, be esteemed too concise, and too bare of circumstances to maintain the execution of its articles, in opposition to the chicanery of lawyers, supported by the violence of power, time gradually ascertained the sense of all the ambiguous expressions; and those generous barons, who first extorted this concession, still held their swords in their hands, and could turn them against those who dared, on any pretence, to depart from the original spirit and meaning of the grant. We may now, from the tenor of this charter, conjecture what those laws were of King Edward, which the English nation, during so many generations, still desired, with such an obstinate perseverance, to have recalled and established. They were chiefly these latter articles of Magna Charta; and the barons who, at the beginning of these commotions, demanded the revival of the Saxon laws, undoubtedly thought that they had sufficiently satisfied the people by procuring them this concession, which comprehended the principal objects to which they had so long aspired.

But what we are most to admire is the prudence and moderation of those haughty nobles themselves who were enraged by injuries, inflamed by opposition, and elated by a total victory over their sovereign. They were content, even in this plenitude of power, to depart from some articles of Henry I's charter, which they made the foundation of their demands, particularly from the abolition of wardships, a matter of the greatest importance; and they seem to have been sufficiently careful not to diminish too far the power and revenue of the crown. If they appear, therefore, to have carried other demands to too great a height, it can be ascribed only to the faithless and tyrannical character of the King himself, of which they had long had experience, and which they foresaw would, if they provided no further security, lead him soon to infringe their new liberties, and revoke his own concessions. This alone gave birth to those other articles, seemingly exorbitant, which were added as a rampart for the safeguard of the Great Charter.

The barons obliged the King to agree that London should remain in their hands, and the Tower be consigned to the custody of the Primate till the 15th of August ensuing or till the execution of the several articles of the Great Charter. The better to insure the same end, he allowed them to choose five-and-twenty members from their own body as conservators of the public liberties; and no bounds were set to the authority of these men either in extent or duration. If any complaint were made of a violation of the charter, whether attempted by the king, justiciaries, sheriffs, or foresters, any four of these barons might admonish the king to redress the grievance; if satisfaction were not obtained, they could assemble the whole council of twenty-five; who, in conjunction with the great council, were empowered to compel him to observe the charter, and, in case of resistance, might levy war against him, attack his castles, and employ every kind of violence except against his royal person and that of his queen and children.

All men throughout the kingdom were bound, under the penalty of confiscation, to swear obedience to the twenty-five barons; and the freeholders of each county were to choose twelve knights, who were to make report of such evil customs as required redress, conformably to the tenor of the Great Charter[56]. The names of those conservators were: the Earls of Clare, Albemarle, Gloucester, Winchester, Hereford; Roger Bigod, Earl of Norfolk; Robert de Vere, Earl of Oxford; William Mareschal, the younger; Robert Fitz-Walter, Gilbert de Clare, Eustace de Vescey, Gilbert Delaval, William de Moubray, Geoffrey de Say, Roger de Mombezon, William de Huntingfield; Robert de Ros, the Constable of Chester; William de Aubenie, Richard de Perci, William Malet, John Fitz-Robert, William de Lanvalay, Hugh de Bigod, and Roger de Montfichet. These men were, by this convention, really invested with the sovereignty of the kingdom; they were rendered coördinate with the King, or rather superior to him, in the exercise of the executive power; and as there was no circumstance of government which, either directly or indirectly, might not bear a relation to the security or observance of the Great Charter, there could scarcely occur any incident in which they might not lawfully interpose their authority.

John seemed to submit passively to all these regulations, however injurious to majesty. He sent writs to all the sheriffs ordering them to constrain everyone to swear obedience to the twenty-five barons; he dismissed all his foreign forces; he pretended that his government was thenceforth to run in a new tenor and be more indulgent to the liberty and independence of his people. But he only dissembled till he should find a favorable opportunity for annulling all his concessions. The injuries and indignities which he had formerly suffered from the Pope and the King of France, as they came from equals or superiors, seemed to make but small impression on him; but the sense of this perpetual and total subjection under his own rebellious vassals sank deep in his mind; and he was determined, at all hazards, to throw off so ignominious a slavery.

He grew sullen, silent, and reserved; he shunned the society of his courtiers and nobles; he retired into the Isle of Wight, as if desirous of hiding his shame and confusion; but in this retreat he meditated the most fatal vengeance against all his enemies. He secretly sent abroad his emissaries to enlist foreign soldiers, and to invite the rapacious Brabançons into his service, by the prospect of sharing the spoils of England and reaping the forfeitures of so many opulent barons who had incurred the guilt of rebellion by rising in arms against him. And he despatched a messenger to Rome, in order to lay before the Pope the Great Charter, which he had been compelled to sign, and to complain, before that tribunal, of the violence which had been imposed upon him.

Innocent, considering himself as feudal lord of the kingdom, was incensed at the temerity of the barons, who, though they pretended to appeal to his authority, had dared, without waiting for his consent, to impose such terms on a prince, who, by resigning to the Roman pontiff his crown and independence, had placed himself immediately under the papal protection. He issued, therefore, a bull, in which, from the plenitude of his apostolic power, and from the authority which God had committed to him, to build and destroy kingdoms, to plant and overthrow, he annulled and abrogated the whole charter, as unjust in itself, as obtained by compulsion, and as derogatory to the dignity of the apostolic see. He prohibited the barons from exacting the observance of it; he even prohibited the King himself from paying any regard to it; he absolved him and his subjects from all oaths which they had been constrained to take to that purpose; and he pronounced a general sentence of excommunication against everyone who should persevere in maintaining such treasonable and iniquitous pretensions.

The King, as his foreign forces arrived along with this bull, now ventured to take off the mask; and, under sanction of the Pope's decree, recalled all the liberties which he had granted to his subjects, and which he had solemnly sworn to observe. But the spiritual weapon was found upon trial to carry less force with it than he had reason from his own experience to apprehend. The Primate refused to obey the Pope in publishing the sentence of excommunication against the barons; and though he was cited to Rome, that he might attend a general council there assembled, and was suspended, on account of his disobedience to the Pope and his secret correspondence with the King's enemies; though a new and particular sentence of excommunication was pronounced by name against the principal barons—John still found that his nobility and people, and even his clergy, adhered to the defence of their liberties and to their combination against him; the sword of his foreign mercenaries was all he had to trust to for restoring his authority.

The barons, after obtaining the Great Charter, seem to have been lulled into a fatal security, and to have taken no rational measures, in case of the introduction of a foreign force, for reassembling their armies. The King was, from the first, master of the field, and immediately laid siege to the castle of Rochester, which was obstinately defended by William de Albiney, at the head of a hundred and forty knights with their retainers, but was at last reduced by famine. John, irritated with the resistance, intended to have hanged the governor and all the garrison; but on the representation of William de Mauleon, who suggested to him the danger of reprisals, he was content to sacrifice, in this barbarous manner, the inferior prisoners only. The captivity of William de Albiney, the best officer among the confederated barons, was an irreparable loss to their cause; and no regular opposition was thenceforth made to the progress of the royal arms. The ravenous and barbarous mercenaries, incited by a cruel and enraged prince, were let loose against the estates, tenants, manors, houses, parks of the barons, and spread devastation over the face of the kingdom.

Nothing was to be seen but the flames of villages, and castles reduced to ashes, the consternation and misery of the inhabitants, tortures exercised by the soldiery to make them reveal their concealed treasures, and reprisals no less barbarous, committed by the barons and their partisans on the royal demesnes, and on the estates of such as still adhered to the Crown. The King, marching through the whole extent of England, from Dover to Berwick, laid the provinces waste on each side of him, and considered every estate which was not his immediate property as entirely hostile and the object of military execution. The nobility of the North in particular, who had shown greatest violence in the recovery of their liberties, and who, acting in a separate body, had expressed their discontent even at the concessions made by the Great Charter, as they could expect no mercy, fled before him with their wives and families, and purchased the friendship of Alexander, the young King of Scots, by doing homage to him.

The barons, reduced to this desperate extremity, and menaced with the total loss of their liberties, their properties, and their lives, employed a remedy no less desperate; and making applications to the court of France, they offered to acknowledge Louis, the eldest son of Philip, for their sovereign, on condition that he would afford them protection from the violence of their enraged Prince. Though the sense of the common rights of mankind, the only rights that are entirely indefeasible, might have justified them in the deposition of their King, they declined insisting before Philip on a pretension which is commonly so disagreeable to sovereigns and which sounds harshly in their royal ears. They affirmed that John was incapable of succeeding to the crown, by reason of the attainder passed upon him during his brother's reign, though that attainder had been reversed, and Richard had even, by his last will, declared him his successor. They pretended that he was already legally deposed by sentence of the peers of France, on account of the murder of his nephew, though that sentence could not possibly regard anything but his transmarine dominions, which alone he held in vassalage to that crown. On more plausible grounds they affirmed that he had already deposed himself by doing homage to the Pope, changing the nature of his sovereignty, and resigning an independent crown for a fee under a foreign power. And as Blanche of Castile, the wife of Louis, was descended by her mother from Henry II, they maintained, though many other princes stood before her in the order of succession, that they had not shaken off the royal family in choosing her husband for their sovereign.

Philip was strongly tempted to lay hold on the rich prize which was offered to him. The legate menaced him with interdicts and excommunications if he invaded the patrimony of St. Peter or attacked a prince who was under the immediate protection of the holy see; but as Philip was assured of the obedience of his own vassals, his principles were changed with the times, and he now undervalued as much all papal censures as he formerly pretended to pay respect to them. His chief scruple was with regard to the fidelity which he might expect from the English barons in their new engagements, and the danger of intrusting his son and heir into the hands of men who might, on any caprice or necessity, make peace with their native sovereign, by sacrificing a pledge of so much value. He therefore exacted from the barons twenty-five hostages of the most noble birth in the kingdom; and having obtained this security, he sent over first a small army to the relief of the confederates; then more numerous forces, which arrived with Louis himself at their head.

The first effect of the young Prince's appearance in England was the desertion of John's foreign troops, who, being mostly levied in Flanders and other provinces of France, refused to serve against the heir of their monarchy. The Gascons and Poictevins alone, who were still John's subjects, adhered to his cause; but they were too weak to maintain that superiority in the field which they had hitherto supported against the confederated barons. Many considerable noblemen deserted John's party—the earls of Salisbury, Arundel, Warrenne, Oxford, Albemarle, and William Mareschal the Younger. His castles fell daily into the hands of the enemy; Dover was the only place which, from the valor and fidelity of Hubert de Burgh, the governor, made resistance to the progress of Louis; and the barons had the melancholy prospect of finally succeeding in their purpose, and of escaping the tyranny of their own King, by imposing on themselves and the nation a foreign yoke.

But this union was of short duration between the French and English nobles; and the imprudence of Louis, who on every occasion showed too visible a preference to the former, increased their jealousy which it was so natural for the latter to entertain in their present situation. The Viscount of Melun, too, it is said, one of his courtiers, fell sick at London, and, finding the approaches of death, he sent for some of his friends among the English barons, and, warning them of their danger, revealed Louis's secret intentions of exterminating them and their families as traitors to their Prince, and of bestowing their estates and dignities on his native subjects, in whose fidelity he could more reasonably place confidence. This story, whether true or false, was universally reported and believed; and, concurring with other circumstances which rendered it credible, did great prejudice to the cause of Louis. The Earl of Salisbury and other noblemen deserted again to John's party; and as men easily change sides in civil war, especially where their power is founded on a hereditary and independent authority and is not derived from the opinion and favor of the people, the French Prince had reason to dread a sudden reverse of fortune.

The King was assembling a considerable army with a view of fighting one great battle for his crown; but passing from Lynne to Lincolnshire, his road lay along the sea-shore, which was overflowed at high water; and not choosing the proper time for his journey, he lost in the inundation all his carriages, treasure, baggage, and regalia. The affliction of this disaster, and vexation from the distracted state of his affairs, increased the sickness under which he then labored; and though he reached the castle of Newark, he was obliged to halt there, and his distemper soon after put an end to his life, in the forty-ninth year of his age and eighteenth of his reign, and freed the nation from the dangers to which it was equally exposed by his success or by his misfortunes.

THE GOLDEN BULL, "HUNGARY'S MAGNA CHARTA," SIGNED

A.D. 1222

E.O.S.

During the century preceding the reign of Andrew II, King of Hungary, which began in 1205, that country had been engaged in frequent wars with Venice over the possession of Dalmatia, but no event of recent years had given much importance to Hungarian history. The reign of Andrew began in a time of great confusion in state and church, when the crusading spirit was still a power which both religious and secular rulers found it convenient to turn to the advancement of their own designs.

When Andrew deserted the cause of the crusaders in Palestine, after an unsuccessful attack upon a tower on Mount Tabor, he was doubtless piqued at the failure of the King of Jerusalem to render him any support in ordering his affairs at home, where, under his viceroy, the virtual absolutism of the government had become endangered. Out of the conditions which confronted him on his arrival in Hungary came the memorable event—forming one of the great chapters in his country's annals—faithfully and succinctly recounted in the following pages.

The reign of Andrew II, in Hungary, forms one of the most important epochs in the history of the country over which he reigned, since from him the nobles obtained their Golden Bull (Bulla Aurea), equivalent to the Magna Charta of England. The people of Hungary had, indeed, by their own determination and spirit of independence, and by the wisdom and virtue of the first kings of the race of Arpad, secured in their constitution the foundation of their liberties; but the power of the sovereign had in the mean time increased, so as to surpass those limits within which alone the office can be conducive to the happiness and welfare of the community. The ceremony of coronation was considered, indeed, a necessary condition for the exercise of the royal authority; but though this in some measure acted as a check upon his inordinate power, still all offices and dignities were in the gift of the King, few, if any, being hereditary, and even the magnates could not prevent the monarch giving away any part of his dominions.

Wars with Russia and Poland occupied the first years after the accession of Andrew, and much discontent was occasioned in the country by the imperious character of Gertrude his Queen, who ruled over her husband, and caused her relatives and friends to be raised to the highest places in the State. The marriage of the young princess Elizabeth to Louis, son of the Landgrave of Thuringia, was solemnized with great pomp at Presburg, in 1212. The period of prosperity to Hungary which had followed the birth of this child made the people look upon her as one favored by heaven, and her singular virtues helped to confirm the superstition; her life has formed the groundwork of one of the most beautiful of saintly legends, and after her death she was canonized as St. Elizabeth of Hungary.

At her nuptials, Queen Gertrude, assuming the authority of her husband, not only presented the ambassadors of the Landgrave with rich presents of gold, silver, and jewels, but bid them tell their lord that if a long life were granted to her she would send them still greater wealth. The following year Andrew accompanied his son Coloman into Poland, to celebrate his marriage with a daughter of the duke, and intrusted the regency during his absence to Gertrude and her relations. Time and opportunity favored a conspiracy against the imperious Queen, and the first attack was made on her brother, the Archbishop of Colocza. He, however, escaped with his life, and in revenge he induced the Pope (Honorius) to lay Hungary under an interdict.

The people, however, showed small regard for the denunciations of a distant pontiff, and, irritated by fresh offences, committed by brothers of the Queen, in which Gertrude herself appears to have participated, they murdered her in her own palace, and her children only escaped by the care and fidelity of their tutor. Their uncles fled from the country, carrying with them a large amount of treasure collected by Andrew, who bitterly complained of their ingratitude in a letter to the holy see.

The King shortly afterward married the daughter of Peter of Courtenay, Count of Auxerre, and made a vow to raise another crusade. The Latin Emperor of Constantinople dying about this time, the choice of a successor lay between the Hungarian King and his new father-in-law. It fell upon Andrew, and he was invited to take possession of the imperial crown, but was dissuaded from accepting the honor by Pope Honorius, who had already crowned Peter emperor of the East. Peter was opposed by Theodore Comnenus, by whom he was arrested and thrown into a dungeon. The Pope appealed for assistance to Andrew, then on his way to the Holy Land. Andrew accordingly proceeded to Acre, which he reached after a long voyage, but his expedition partook more of a pilgrimage than of a crusade. He was absent from Hungary four years, and returned to find the whole kingdom in disorder, the treasury emptied, and greedy prelates and magnates devouring the substance of the people.

To replenish his treasury, Andrew appropriated the gold and jewels left by the empress Constantia, whose death, which took place about this time, prevented her establishing her claim. He further supplied his own extravagance, by farming the taxes to Jews, deteriorating the coin, mortgaging the domains belonging to the fortified castles, and selling the crown lands to wealthy magnates.

His eldest son Bela had already gained the respect and affection of the people by the firmness of his character and his love of justice; and Andrew, jealous of his popularity, obliged him to fly the kingdom and seek protection from Leopold, Duke of Austria. The King was, however, at last persuaded to invite him to return, and, in order to secure his throne, he established him at a distance from himself, in the government of Croatia and Dalmatia. Two years later his younger son Coloman took the place of Bela, who was intrusted with the government of Transylvania and of all the country between the Theiss and Aluta. With a weak monarch and an exhausted treasury, the land had become the prey of barbarous invaders, and the disorders of the kingdom had reached such a climax that the magnates resolved to appeal to the mediation of the Pope.

Honorius commanded Andrew to restore the lands which he had parted with in direct violation of his coronation oath, by which he had sworn to preserve the integrity of the kingdom and the honor of the crown. Bela now assembled the nobles and franklins of Hungary, and, supported by them, demanded the restoration of the ancient constitution. The ecclesiastics of Hungary, instigated by the Pope, offered to mediate a peace between the King, who was supported by the great magnates, and his son, who had the voice of the people. The condition of this peace was the Golden Bull of Hungary, which was granted in the year 1222. It was here enacted that, "As the liberties of the nobility, and of certain other natives of these realms, founded by King Stephen the Saint, have suffered great detriment and curtailment by the violence of sundry kings impelled by their own evil propensities, by the cravings of their insatiable cupidity and by the advice of certain malicious persons, and as the 'nobiles' of the country had preferred frequent petitions for the confirmation of the constitution of these realms; so that, in utter contempt of the royal authority, violent discussions and accusations had arisen, … the King declares he is now willing to confirm and maintain, for all times to come, the nobility and freemen of the country in all their rights, privileges, and immunities, as provided by the statutes of St. Stephen."

1. "That the 'nobiles' and their possessions shall not, for the future, be subject to taxes and impositions.

2. "That no man shall be either accused or arrested, sentenced or punished for a crime, unless he receive a legal summons, and until a judicial inquiry into his case shall have taken place.

3. "That though the 'nobiles' and franklins shall be bound to do military service at their own expense, it shall not be legal to force them to cross the frontier of their country. In a foreign war, the king shall be bound to pay the knights and the troops of the counties.

4. "The king has no right to entail whole counties and the high offices of the kingdom.

5. "The king is not allowed to farm to Jews and Ishmaelites his domains, the taxes, the coinage, or the salt mines."

The Golden Bull comprised thirty-one chapters, and seven copies were made and delivered into the keeping of the Knights of St. John, the Knights Templars of Hungary and Slavonia, the King, the Palatine, the archbishops of Gran and Colocza, and the Pope. The thirty-first clause gave every Hungarian noble a right of veto upon the acts of the king if unconstitutional. This clause was, however, supposed to give an undue power to the people, and was revoked in 1687.

Those magnates who, by the Golden Bull, were compelled to return the land unjustly alienated by King Andrew, formed a conspiracy to overthrow the monarchy, abolish the constitution, and divide the land among themselves. The conspiracy was discovered in time to prevent its execution, but Andrew lost courage and did not venture to insist on his refractory nobles fulfilling their part in the conditions of the Great Charter. He was, however, compelled to ratify it in a diet held in Beregher Forest, in 1231, where the Golden Bull was signed and sealed with all solemnity in the city of Gran.

Andrew married for a third time in his old age, Beatrice, daughter of the Marquis d'Este, and died in 1234. During his reign the court was first held at a fixed place of residence; it was not only composed of prelates and magnates, but was frequented by learned men, educated at the schools of Paris and Bologna, as well as within the kingdom. The cities acquired importance about this period, and the condition of the serfs underwent some amelioration.

RUSSIA CONQUERED BY THE TARTAR HORDES

ALEXANDER NEVSKI SAVES THE REMNANT OF HIS PEOPLE

A.D. 1224-1262

ALFRED RAMBAUD

Russia was for centuries the chief power of the Slavic race. On its plains and amid the neighboring lands they established a civilization and went through a development not unlike those which transformed Western Europe during the Middle Ages. Slavonia, like Gaul, had received Roman civilization and Christianity from the South. The Northmen had brought her an organization which recalls that of the Germans; and under Yaroslaff, 1016-1054, like the West under Charlemagne, she had enjoyed a certain semblance of unity, while she was afterward dismembered and divided like France in feudal times.

The Tartars seem to have been a tribe of the great Mongol race. They conquered Northern China and Central Asia, and after forty years of struggle were united with other Mongol tribes into one nation by Genghis Khan. His lieutenants subdued a multitude of Turkish peoples, passed the Caspian Sea by its southern shore, invaded Georgia and the Caucasus, and entered upon the southern steppes of Russia, where they came in contact with the Polovtsi, also a Mongol race, the hereditary enemies of the Russians proper.

This summary by the distinguished French academician, M. Rambaud—our leading authority in Russian history with its related studies—presents, with sufficient clearness, the character and tendency of Russia in the thirteenth century, when she was invaded and subjugated by Asiatic hordes.

The Polovtsi asked the Christian princes for help against the Mongols and Turks, who were their brothers by a common origin. "They have taken our country," said they to the descendants of St. Vladimir; "to-morrow they will take yours." Mstislaf the Bold, then Prince of Galitch, persuaded all the dynasties of Southern Russia to take up arms against the Tartars: his nephew Daniel, Prince of Volhynia, Mstislaf Romanovitch, Grand Prince of Kiev, Oleg of Kursk, Mstislaf of Tchernigof, Vladimir of Smolensk, and Vsevolod, for a short time Prince of Novgorod,[57] responded to his appeal.

To cement his alliance with the Russians, Basti, Khan of the Polovtsi, embraced orthodoxy. The Russian army had already arrived on the Lower Dnieper, when the Tartar ambassadors made their appearance. "We have come, by God's command, against our slaves and grooms, the accursed Polovtsi. Be at peace with us; we have no quarrel with you." The Russians, with the promptitude and thoughtlessness that characterized the men of that time, put the ambassadors to death. They then went farther into the steppe, and encountered the Asiatic hordes on the Kalka, a small river running into the Sea of Azov.

The Russian chivalry, on this memorable day, showed the same disordered and the same ill-advised eagerness as the French chivalry at the opening of the English wars. Mstislaf the Bold, Daniel of Galitch, and Oleg of Kursk were the first to rush into the midst of the infidels, without waiting for the princes of Kiev, and even without giving them warning, in order to gain for themselves the honors of victory. In the middle of the combat, the Polovtsi were seized with a panic and fell back on the Russian ranks, thus throwing them into disorder. The rout became general, and the leaders spurred on their steeds in hopes of reaching the Dnieper.

Six princes and seventy of the chief boyars or voievodes remained on the field of battle. It was the Crécy and Poitiers of the Russian chivalry. Hardly a tenth of the army escaped; the Kievians alone left ten thousand dead. The Grand Prince of Kiev, however, Mstislaf Romanovitch, still occupied a fortified camp on the banks of the Kalka. Abandoned by the rest of the army, he tried to defend himself. The Tartars offered to make terms; he might retire on payment of a ransom for himself and his droujina. He capitulated, and the conditions were broken. His guard was massacred, and he and his two sons-in-law were stifled under planks. The Tartars held their festival over the inanimate bodies, 1224.

After this thunderbolt, which struck terror into the whole of Russia, the Tartars paused and returned to the East. Nothing more was heard of them. Thirteen years passed, during which the princes reverted to their perpetual discords. Those in the northeast had given no help to the Russians of the Dnieper; perhaps the grand prince George II of Suzdal[58] may have rejoiced over the humiliation of the Kievians and Galicians. The Mongols were forgotten; the chronicles, however, are filled with fatal presages: in the midst of scarcity, famine and pestilence, of incendiaries in the towns and calamities of all sorts, they remark on the comet of 1224, the earthquake, and eclipse of the sun of 1230.

The Tartars were busy finishing the conquest of China, but presently one of the sons of Genghis, Ugudei, sent his nephew Batu to the West. As the reflux of the Polovtsi had announced the invasion of 1224, that of the Saxin nomads, related to the Khirghiz who took refuge on the lands of the Bulgarians of the Volga, warned men of a new irruption of the Tartars, and indicated its direction. It was no longer South Russia, but Sozdalian Russia, that was threatened. In 1237 Batu conquered the Great City, capital of the half-civilized Bulgars, who were, like the Polovtsi, ancient enemies of Russia, and who were to be included in her ruin. Bolgary was given up to the flames, and her inhabitants were put to the sword. The Tartars next plunged into the deep forests of the Volga, and sent a sorcerer and two officers as envoys to the princes of Riazan. The three princes of Riazan, those of Pronsk, Kolomna, Moscow, and Murom, advanced to meet them.

Though abandoned by the princes of Tchernigoff and the grand prince George II, of whom they had implored help, the dynasty of Riazan accepted the unequal struggle. They were completely crushed; nearly all their princes remained on the field of battle. Legend has embellished their fall. It is told how Feodor preferred to die rather than see his young wife, Euphrasia, the spoil of Batu; and how, on learning his fate, she threw herself and her son from the window of the terem. Oleg the Handsome, found still alive on the battle-field, repelled the caresses, the attention, and religion of the Khan, and was cut in pieces. Riazan was immediately taken by assault, sacked, and burned. All the towns of the principality suffered the same fate.

It was now the turn of the Grand Prince, for the Russia of the northeast had not even the honor of falling in a great battle like the Russia of the southwest, united for once against the common enemy. The Suzdalian army, commanded by a son of George II, was beaten on the day of Kolomna, on the Oka. The Tartars burned Moscow, then besieged Vladimir, the royal city, which George II had abandoned to seek for help in the North. His two sons were charged with the defence of the capital. Princes and boyars, feeling there was no alternative but death or servitude, prepared to die. The princesses and all the nobles prayed Bishop Metrophanes to give them the tonsure; and when the Tartars rushed into the town by all its gates, the vanquished retired into the cathedral, where they perished, men and women, in a general conflagration. Suzdal, Rostoff, Yaroslavl, fourteen towns, and a multitude of villages in the grand principality were also given over to the flames, 1238. The Tartars then went to seek the Grand Prince, who was encamped on the Sit, almost on the frontier of the possessions of Novgorod.

George II could neither avenge his people nor his family. After the battle, the Bishop of Rostoff found his headless corpse. His nephew, Vassilko, who was taken prisoner, was stabbed for refusing to serve Batu. The immense Tartar army, after having sacked Tver, took Torjok; there "the Russian heads fell beneath the sword of the Tartars as grass beneath the scythe." The territory of Novgorod was invaded; the great republic trembled, but the deep forests and the swollen rivers delayed Batu. The invading flood reached the Cross of Ignatius, about fifty miles from Novgorod, then returned to the southeast. On the way the small town of Kozelsk (near Kaluga) checked the Tartars for so long, and inflicted on them so much loss, that it was called by them the "wicked town." Its population was exterminated, and the prince Vassili, still a child, was "drowned in blood."

The two following years, 1239-1240, were spent by the Tartars in ravaging Southern Russia. They burned Pereiaslaf and Tchernigoff, defended with desperation by its princes. Next Mangu, grandson of Genghis Khan, marched against the famous town of Kiev, whose name resounded through the East and in the books of the Arab writers. From the left bank of the Dnieper, the barbarian admired the great city on the heights of the right bank, towering over the wide river with her white walls and towers adorned by Byzantine artists, and innumerable churches with cupolas of gold and silver. Mangu proposed capitulation to the Kievians; the fate of Riazan, of Tchernigof, of Vladimir, the capitals of powerful states, announced to them the lot that awaited them in case of refusal, yet the Kievians dared to massacre the envoys of the Khan. Michael, their Grand Prince, fled; his rival, Daniel of Galitch, did not care to remain.

On hearing the report of Mangu, Batu came to assault Kiev with the bulk of his army. The grinding of the wooden chariots, the bellowings of the buffaloes, the cries of the camels, the neighing of the horses, the howlings of the Tartars rendered it impossible, says the annalist, to hear your own voice in the town. The Tartars assailed the Polish Gate and knocked down the walls with a battering-ram. The Kievians, supported by the brave Dmitri, a Galician boyar, defended the fallen ramparts till the end of the day, then retreated to the Church of the Dime, which they surrounded by a palisade. The last defenders of Kiev found themselves grouped around the tomb of Yaroslaff. Next day they perished. The Khan gave the boyar his life, but the "Mother of Russian cities" was sacked. The pillage was most terrible. Even the tombs were not respected. All that remains of the Church of the Dime is a few fragments of mosaic in the Museum at Kiev. St. Sophia and the Monastery of the Catacombs were delivered up to be plundered, 1240.

Volhynia and Galicia still remained, but their princes could not defend them, and Russia found herself, with the exception of Novgorod and the northwest country, under the Tartar yoke. The princes had fled or were dead: hundreds of thousands of Russians were dragged into captivity. Men saw the wives of boyars, "who had never known work, who a short time ago had been clothed in rich garments, adorned with jewels and collars of gold, surrounded with slaves, now reduced to be themselves the slaves of barbarians and their wives, turning the wheel of the mill and preparing their coarse food."

If we look for the causes which rendered the defeat of the brave Russian nation so complete, we may, with Karamsin, indicate the following: 1. Though the Tartars were not more advanced, from a military point of view, than the Russians, who had made war in Greece and in the West against the most warlike and civilized people of Europe, yet they had an enormous superiority of numbers. Batu probably had with him five hundred thousand warriors. 2. This immense army moved like one man; it could successively annihilate the droujinas of the princes, or the militia of the towns, which only presented themselves successively to its blows. The Tartars had found Russia divided against herself. 3. Even though Russia had wished to form a confederation, the sudden irruptions of an army entirely composed of horsemen did not leave her time. 4. In the tribes ruled by Batu, every man was a soldier; in Russia the nobles and citizens alone bore arms: the peasants, who formed the bulk of the population, allowed themselves to be stabbed or bound without resistance. 5. It was not by a weak nation that Russia was conquered. The Tartar-Mongols, under Genghis Khan, had filled the East with the glory of their name, and subdued nearly all Asia. They arrived, proud of their exploits, animated by the recollection of a hundred victories, and reinforced by numerous peoples whom they had vanquished, and hurried with them to the West.

When the princes of Galitch, of Volhynia, and of Kiev arrived as fugitives in Poland and Hungary, Europe was terror-stricken. The Pope, whose support had been claimed by the Prince of Galitch, summoned Christendom to arms. Louis IX prepared for a crusade. Frederic II, as emperor, wrote to the sovereigns of the West: "This is the moment to open the eyes of body and soul now that the brave princes on whom we reckoned are dead or in slavery." The Tartars invaded Hungary, gave battle to the Poles in Liegnitz in Silesia, had their progress a long while arrested by the courageous defence of Olmutz in Moravia, by the Tcheque voievode Yaroslaff, and stopped finally, learning that a large army, commanded by the King of Bohemia and the dukes of Austria and Carinthia, was approaching. The news of the death of Oktai, second Emperor of all the Tartars, in China, recalled Batu from the West, and during the long march from Germany his army necessarily diminished in number.

The Tartars were no longer in the vast plains of Asia and Eastern Europe, but in a broken hilly country, bristling with fortresses, defended by a population more dense and a chivalry more numerous than those in Russia.

To sum up, all the fury of the Mongol tempest spent itself on the Slavonic race. It was the Russians who fought at the Kalka, at Kolomna, at the Sit; the Poles and Silesians at Liegnitz; the Bohemians and Moravians at Olmutz. The Germans suffered nothing from the invasion of the Mongols but the fear of it. It exhausted itself principally on those plains of Russia which seem a continuation of the steppes of Asia. Only in Russian history did the invasion produce great results.

Batu built on one of the arms of the Lower Volga a city called Sarai (the Castle), which became the capital of a powerful Tartar empire, the "Golden Horde," extending from the Ural and Caspian to the mouth of the Danube. The Golden Horde was formed not only of Tartar-Mongols or Nogais, who even now survive in the Northern Crimea, but particularly of the remains of ancient nomads, such as the Patzinaks and Polovtsi, whose descendants seem to be the present Kalmucks and Bashkirs; of Turkish tribes tending to become sedentary, like the Tartars of Astrakhan in the present day; and of the Finnish populations already established in the country, and which mixed with the invaders.

Oktai, Kuluk, and Mangu, the first three successors of Genghis Khan, elected by all the Mongol princes, took the title of "great khans," and the Golden Horde recognized their authority; but under his fourth successor, Kublai, who usurped the throne and established himself in China, this bond of vassalage was broken. The Golden Horde became an independent state, 1260. United and powerful under the terrible Batu, who died in 1255, it fell to pieces under his successors; but in the fourteenth century the khan Uzbeck reunited it anew, and gave the Horde a second period of prosperity. The Tartars, who were pagans when they entered Russia, embraced, about 1272, the faith of Islam, and became its most formidable apostles.

Meanwhile Yaroslaff, brother of the grand prince George II, was his successor in Suzdal. Yaroslaff, 1238-1246, found his inheritance in the most deplorable condition. The towns and villages were burned, the country and roads covered with unburied corpses; the survivors hid themselves in the woods. He recalled the fugitives and began to rebuild. Batu, who had completed the devastation of South Russia, summoned Yaroslaff to do him homage at Sarai, on the Volga. Yaroslaff was received there with distinction. Batu confirmed his title of grand prince, but invited him to go in person to the Great Khan, supreme chief of the Mongol nation, who lived on the banks of the river Sakhalian or Amur. To do this was to cross the whole of Russia and Asia. Yaroslaff bent his knees to the new master of the world, Oktai, succeeded in refuting the accusations brought against him by a Russian boyar, and obtained a new confirmation of his title. On his return he died in the desert of exhaustion, and his faithful servants brought his body back to Vladimir. His son Andrew succeeded him in Suzdal, 1246-1252. His other son, Alexander, reigned at Novgorod the Great.

Alexander was as brave as he was intelligent. He was the hero of the North, and yet he forced himself to accept the necessary humiliations of his terrible situation. In his youth we see him fighting with all the enemies of Novgorod, Livonian knights and Tchuds, Swedes and Finns. The Novgorodians found themselves at issue with the Scandinavians on the subject of their possessions on the Neva and the Gulf of Finland. As they had helped the natives to resist the Latin faith, King John obtained the promise of Gregory IX that a crusade, with plenary indulgences, should be preached against the Great Republic and her protégés, the pagans of the Baltic. His son-in-law, Birger, with an army of Scandinavians, Finns, and western crusaders, took the command of the forces, and sent word to the Prince of Novgorod: "Defend yourself if you can; know that I am already in your provinces." The Russians on their side, feeling they were fighting for orthodoxy, opposed the Latin crusade with a Greek one.

Alexander humbled himself in St. Sophia, received the benediction of the archbishop Spiridion, and addressed an energetic harangue to his warriors. He had no time to await reinforcements from Suzdal. He attacked the Swedish camp, which was situated on the Ijora, one of the southern affluents of the Neva, which has given its name to Ingria. Alexander won a brilliant victory, which gained him his surname of Nevski, and the honor of becoming, under Peter the Great, the second conqueror of the Swedes, one of the patrons of St. Petersburg. By the orders of his great successor his bones repose in the monastery of Alexander Nevski.

The battle of the Neva was preserved in a dramatic legend. An Ingrian chief told Alexander how, in the eve of the combat, he had seen a mysterious bark, manned by two warriors with shining brows, glide through the night. They were Boris and Gleb, who came to the rescue of their young kinsman. Other accounts have preserved to us the individual exploits of the Russian heroes—Gabriel, Skylaf of Novgorod, James of Polotsk, Sabas, who threw down the tent of Birger, and Alexander Nevski himself, who with a stroke of the lance "imprinted his seal on his face," 1240. Notwithstanding the triumph of such a service, Alexander and the Novgorodians could not agree; a short time after, he retired to Pereiaslavl-Zaliesski. The proud republicans soon had reason to regret the exile of this second Camillus. The Order of the Swordbearers, the indefatigable enemy of orthodoxy, took Pskof, their ally; the Germans imposed tribute on the Vojans, vassals of Novgorod, constructed the fortress of Koporie on her territory of the Neva, took the Russian town of Tessof in Esthonia, and pillaged the merchants of Novgorod within seventeen miles of their ramparts. During this time the Tchuds and the Lithuanians captured the peasants, and the cattle of the citizens. At last Alexander allowed himself to be touched by the prayers of the archbishop and the people, assembled an army, expelled the Germans from Koporie, and next from Pskof, hanged as traitors the captive Vojans and Tchuds, and put to death six knights who fell into his hands.

This war between the two races and two religions was cruel and pitiless. The rights of nations were hardly recognized. More than once Germans and Russians slew the ambassadors of the other side. Alexander Nevski finally gave battle to the Livonian knights on the ice of Lake Peipus, killed four hundred of them, took fifty prisoners, and exterminated a multitude of Tchuds. Such was the "Battle of the Ice," 1242. He returned in triumph to Novgorod, dragging with him his prisoners in armor of iron. The grand master expected to see Alexander at the gates of Riga, and implored help of Denmark. The Prince of Novgorod, satisfied with having delivered Pskof, concluded peace, recovered certain districts, and consented to the exchange of prisoners. At this time Innocent IV, deceived by false information, addressed a bull to Alexander, as a devoted son of the Church, assuring him that his father Yaroslaff, while dying among the Horde, had desired to submit himself to the throne of St. Peter. Two cardinals brought him this letter from the Pope, 1251.

It is this hero of the Neva and Lake Peipus, this vanquisher of the Scandinavians and Livonian knights, that we are presently to see grovelling at the feet of a barbarian. Alexander Nevski had understood that, in presence of this immense and brutal force of the Mongols, all resistance was madness, all pride ruin. To brave them was to complete the overthrow of Russia. His conduct may not have been chivalrous, but it was wise and humane. Alexander disdained to play the hero at the expense of his people, like his brother Andrew of Suzdal, who was immediately obliged to fly, abandoning his country to the vengeance of the Tartars. The Prince of Novgorod was the only prince in Russia who had kept his independence, but he knew Batu's hands could extend as far as the Ilmen. "God has subjected many peoples to me," wrote the barbarian to him: "will you alone refuse to recognize my power? If you wish to keep your land, come to me; you will see the splendor and the glory of my sway." Then Alexander went to Sarai with his brother Andrew, who disputed the grand principality of Vladimir with his uncle Sviatoslaf. Batu declared that fame had not exaggerated the merit of Alexander, that he far excelled the common run of Russian princes. He enjoined the two brothers to show themselves, like their father Yaroslaff, at the Great Horde; they returned from it in 1257. Kuiuk had confirmed the one in the possession of Vladimir, and the other in that of Novgorod, adding to it all South Russia and Kiev.

The year 1260 put the patience of Alexander and his politic obedience to the Tartars to the proof. Ulavtchi, to whom the khan Berkai had confided the affairs of Russia, demanded that Novgorod should submit to the census and pay tribute. It was the hero of the Neva that was charged with the humiliating and dangerous mission of persuading Novgorod. When the possadnik uttered in the vetche the doctrine that it was necessary to submit to the strongest, the people raised a terrible cry and murdered the possadnik. Vassili himself, the son of Alexander, declared against a father "who brought servitude to freemen," and retired to the Pskovians. It needed a soul of iron temper to resist the universal disapprobation, and counsel the Novgorodians to the commission of the cowardly though necessary act. Alexander arrested his son, and punished the boyars who had led him into the revolt with death or mutilation. The vetche had decided to refuse the tribute, and send back the Mongol ambassadors with presents.

However, on the rumor of the approach of the Tartars, they repented, and Alexander could announce to the enemy that Novgorod submitted to the census. But when they saw the officers of the Khan at work, the population revolted again, and the Prince was obliged to keep guard on the officers night and day. In vain the boyars advised the citizens to give in: assembled around St. Sophia, the people declared they would die for liberty and honor. Alexander then threatened to quit the city with his men and abandon it to the vengeance of the Khan. This menace conquered the pride of the Novgorodians. The Mongols and their agents might go, register in hand, from house to house in the humiliated and silent city to make the list of the inhabitants. "The boyars," says Karamsin, "might yet be vain of their rank and their riches, but the simple citizens had lost with their national honor their most precious possession," 1260.

In Suzdal also Alexander found himself in the presence of insolent victors and exasperated subjects. In 1262 the inhabitants of Vladimir, of Suzdal, of Rostof, rose against the collectors of the Tartar impost. The people of Yaroslavl slew a renegade named Zozimus, a former monk, who had become a Moslem fanatic. Terrible reprisals were sure to follow. Alexander set out with presents for the Horde at the risk of leaving his head there. He had likewise to excuse himself for having refused a body of auxiliary Russians to the Mongols, wishing at least to spare the blood and religious scruples of his subjects. It is a remarkable fact that over the most profound humiliations of the Russian nationality the contemporary history always throws a ray of glory.

At the moment that Alexander went to prostrate himself at Sarai, the Suzdalian army, united to that of Novgorod, and commanded by his son Dmitri, defeated the Livonian knights and took Dorpat by assault. The khan Berkai gave Alexander a kind greeting, accepted his explanations, dispensed with the promised contingent, but kept him for a year near his court. The health of Alexander broke down; he died on his return before reaching Vladimir. When the news arrived at his capital, the metropolitan Cyril, who was finishing the liturgy, turned toward the faithful and said, "Learn, my dear children, that the Sun of Russia is set, is dead."

"We are lost," cried the people, breaking forth into sobs. Alexander, by this policy of resignation, which his chivalrous heroism does not permit us to despise, had secured some repose for exhausted Russia. By his victories over his enemies of the West he had given her some glory, and hindered her from despairing under the most crushing tyranny, material and moral, which a European people had ever suffered.

THE SIXTH CRUSADE

TREATY OF FREDERICK II WITH THE SARACENS

A.D. 1228

SIR GEORGE W. COX

For six years after the end of the Fifth Crusade—in which the crusaders, forgetting their vows, instead of delivering Jerusalem sacked Constantinople—the Christians of Palestine were protected by a truce with Saphadin, who had succeeded his brother Saladin in power. This truce was broken by the action of the Latin Christians, Pope Innocent himself, who had been the leading spirit of the Fifth Crusade, continuing to make known his designs for the recovery of the Holy Land. Between the Fifth and the Sixth Crusades occurred that which was in some respects the strangest manifestation of the crusading mania, whereby the inspiration of the Pope and other preachers of a new crusade carried some fanatics to the maddest extremes. This movement, or series of movements, is known as the "Children's Crusade," 1212.

In response to the appeals of certain priests who went about France and Germany calling upon the children to perform what, through wickedness, their fathers had failed to do, and assuring them of miraculous aid and success, fifty thousand boys and girls, braving parental authority, gathered together and pervaded both cities and countries, singing: "Lord Jesus, give us back thy Holy Cross," and saying, "We are going to Jerusalem to deliver the Holy Sepulchre." Some of them crossed the Alps, intending to embark at Italian ports; others took ship at Marseilles. Many were lost in the forests, and perished with heat, hunger, thirst, and fatigue. Some, after being stripped by thieves, were reduced to slavery, and a remnant, in sorrow and shame, returned to their homes. Of those who sailed, some were lost by shipwreck, and others sold as slaves to the Saracens. "No authority," says Michaud, "interfered, either to stop or prevent the madness; and when it was announced to the Pope that death had swept away the flower of the youth of France and Germany, he contented himself with saying: 'These children reproach us with having fallen asleep, while they were flying to the assistance of the Holy Land.'"

Innocent now called a general council of the Church—the Fourth Lateran Council, 1215—for the purpose of stimulating a new crusade. "The necessity for succoring the Holy Land," said his letters of convocation, "and the hope of conquering the Saracens, are greater than ever. We renew our cries and our prayers to you to excite you to this noble enterprise."

The Sixth Crusade, which was inspired by the Pope and preached in France by his legate, Robert de Courçon, was divided in the sequel into three maritime expeditions. The first, 1216, consisted mainly of Hungarians under their King, Andrew; the second, 1218, was composed of Germans, Italians, French, and English nobles and their followers; and the third, 1228, was led by Frederick II in person. The first two produced no considerable advantage for the Christians; while Frederick, involved in the Hohenstaufen struggle with the papacy, evaded his crusading vows made long before. Innocent III died in 1216; Honorius III, the next pope, died in 1227; and his successor, Gregory IX, urged Frederick on to fulfil his promise. The Emperor embarked in 1227, but when he had been only three days at sea, by reason of his own illness or the sickness of his troops—accounts are not agreed—he returned to port. The Pope, furious at his conduct, excommunicated him. But in the following year, notwithstanding the ban, Frederick set sail for Palestine, and the story of this expedition is the essential history of the Sixth Crusade.

After his excommunication, Frederick appealed not to the Pope, but to the sovereigns of Christendom. His illness, he said, had been real, the accusations of the Pope wanton and cruel. "The Christian charity which should hold all things together is dried up at its source, in its stem, not in its branches. What had the Pope done in England but stir up the barons against John, and then abandon them to death or ruin? The whole world paid tribute to his avarice. His legates were everywhere, gathering where they had not sown, and reaping where they had not strawed."

But although he thus dealt in language as furious as that of the Pope, the thought of breaking definitely with him and of casting aside his crusading vow as worthless mockery never seems to have entered his mind. He undertook to bring his armies together again with all speed, and to set off on his expedition. His promise only brought him into fresh trouble with the Pope, who in the Holy Week next following laid under interdict every place in which Frederick might happen to be. If this censure should be treated with contempt, his subjects were at once absolved from their allegiance.

The Emperor went on steadily with his preparations, and then went to Brundisium. He was met by papal messengers who strictly forbade him to leave Italy until he had offered satisfaction for his offences against the Church. In his turn Frederick, having sailed to Otranto, sent his own envoys to the Pope to demand the removal of the interdict; and these, of course, were dismissed with contempt.

In September the Emperor landed at Ptolemais; but the emissaries of the Pope had preceded him, and he found himself under the ban of the clergy and shunned by their partisans. The patriarch and the masters of the military orders were to see that none served under his polluted banners. The charge was given to willing servants: but Frederick found friends in the Teutonic Knights under their grand master Herman de Salza, as well as with the body of pilgrims generally. He determined to possess himself of Joppa, and summoned all the crusaders to his aid.

The Templars refused to stir, if any orders were to be issued in his name; and Frederick agreed that they should run in the name of God and Christendom. But while the enemy was aided greatly by the divisions among the Christians, the death of the Damascene sultan Moadhin was of little use to Frederick. The Egyptian sultan, Kameel, was now in a position of greater independence, and his eagerness for an alliance with the Emperor had rapidly cooled down.

Frederick, on his side, still resolved to try the effect of negotiation. His demands extended at first, it is said, to the complete restoration of the Latin kingdom, and ended, if we are to believe Arabian chroniclers, in almost abject supplications. At length a treaty was signed. It surrendered to the Emperor the whole of Jerusalem except the Temple or mosque of Omar, the keys of which were to be retained by the Saracens; but Christians, under certain conditions, might be allowed to enter it for the purpose of prayer. It further restored to the Christians the towns of Jaffa, Bethlehem, and Nazareth.

To Frederick the conclusion of this treaty was a reason for legitimate satisfaction. It enabled him to hasten back to his own dominions, where a papal army was ravaging Apulia and threatening Sicily. One task only remained for him in the East. He must pay his vows at the Holy Sepulchre. But here also the hand of the Pope lay heavy upon him. Not merely Jerusalem, but the Sepulchre itself, passed under the interdict as he entered the gates of the city, and the infidel Moslem saw the churches closed and all worship suspended at the approach of the Christian Emperor.

On Sunday, in his imperial robes and attended by a magnificent retinue, Frederick went to his coronation, as king of Jerusalem, in the Church of the Sepulchre. Not a single ecclesiastic was there to take part in the ceremony. The archbishops of Capua and Palermo stood aloof, while Frederick, taking the crown from the high altar, placed it on his own head. By his orders his friend Herman de Salza read an address, in which the Emperor acquitted the Pope for his hard judgment of him and for his excommunication, and added that a real knowledge of the facts would have led him to speak not against him, but in his favor. He confessed his desire to put to shame the false friends of Christ, his accusers and slanderers, by the restoration of peace and unity, and to humble himself before God and before his vicar upon earth.

From the Saracens he won golden opinions. The cadi silenced a muezzin who had to proclaim the hour of prayer from a minaret near the house in which the Emperor lodged, because he added to his call the question, "How is it possible that God had for his son Jesus the son of Mary?" Frederick marked the silence of the crier when the hour of prayer came round. On learning the cause he rebuked the cadi for neglecting, on his account, his duty and his religion, and warned him that if he should visit him in his kingdom he would find no such ill-judged deference. He showed no dissatisfaction, it is said, with the inscription which declared that Saladin had purified the city from those who worshipped many gods, or any displeasure when the Mahometans in his train fell on their knees at the times for prayer. His thoughts about the Christians were shown, it was supposed, when, seeing the windows of the Holy Chapel barred to keep out the birds which might defile it, he asked: "You may keep out the birds; but how will you keep out the swine?"

In glowing terms Frederick wrote to the sovereigns of Europe, announcing the splendid success which he had achieved rather by the pen than by the sword. He scarcely knew what a rock of offence he had raised up among Christians and Moslems alike. By a few words on a sheet of parchment the Christian Emperor had deprived his people of the hope of getting their sins forgiven by murdering unbelievers; by the same words the Moslem Sultan had prevented his subjects from insuring an entrance to the delights of paradise by the slaughter of the Nazarenes.

From Gerold, Patriarch of Jerusalem, a letter went to the Pope, full of virulent abuse of the Emperor as a traitor, an apostate, and a robber; but even before he received this letter Gregory had condemned what he chose to consider as a monstrous attempt to reconcile Christ and Belial, and to set up Mahomet as an object of worship in the temple of God. "The antagonist of the Cross," he wrote, "the enemy of the faith and of all chastity, the wretch doomed to hell, is lifted up for adoration, by a perverse judgment, and by an intolerable insult to the Saviour, to the lasting disgrace of the Christian name and the contempt of all the martyrs who have laid down their lives to purify the Holy Land from the defilements of the Saracens."

But Frederick, in his turn, could be firm and unyielding. He returned from Jerusalem to Joppa, from Joppa to Ptolemais; and there learning that a proposal had been made to establish a new order of knights, he declared that no one should, without his consent, levy soldiers within his dominion. Summoning all the Christians within the city to the broad plain without the gates, he spoke his mind freely about the conduct of the Patriarch and the Templars, with all who aided and abetted them, and insisted that all the pilgrims, having now paid their vows, should return at once to Europe. On this point he was inexorable. His archers took possession of the churches; two friars who denounced him from the pulpit were scourged through the streets; the Patriarch was shut up in his palace; and the commands of the Emperor were carried out.

Frederick returned to Europe, to find that the Pope had been stirring up Albert of Austria to rebel against him, and that the papal forces were in command of John of Brienne, who may have been the author of the false news of Frederick's death, and who certainly proclaimed himself as the only emperor. To the Pope, Frederick sent his envoys, Herman de Salza at their head. They were dismissed with contempt; and their master was again placed under the greater excommunication with the Albigensians, the Poor Men of Lyons, the Arnoldists, and other heretics who, in the eyes of the faithful, were the worst enemies of the Christian church. Such was the reward of the man who had done more toward the reëstablishment of the Latin kingdom in Palestine than had been done by the lion-hearted Richard, and who, it may fairly be said, had done it without shedding a drop of blood.

RISE OF THE HANSEATIC LEAGUE

A.D. 1241

H. DENICKE[59]

Trade trusts, which have attained so large a growth in our day, are not an original product of the present age. The Hanseatic League, or Hansa—the word meaning a society, union—was the first trust of which we have authentic record. It began about A.D. 1140, but the league was not signed until 1241. It was first called into being to protect the property of the German merchants against the piratical Swedes and other Norsemen, but presently became submerged in a combination of certain cities to enlarge and control the trade of each country with which they had commerce. So powerful did the league become that it dominated kings, nobles, and cities by its edicts.

Those free cities which constituted the league had the emperor for their lord, were released from feudal obligations, and passed their own laws, subject only to his approval. The emperors, finding in the strength of the cities a bulwark against the bishops and the princes, constantly extended the municipal rights and privileges. The Hanseatic League at one time nearly monopolized the whole trade of Europe north of Italy.

It was an epoch of associations in which the league arose. The Church was but a society, fighting as an army for its liberty. Each trade had its guild, and none might practise his trade unless he was a member of the particular guild controlling it. The handicrafts were in the same case; and the real or operative freemasonry was instituted, about the same time, for the erection of ecclesiastical and palatial buildings.

Wealth, power, pomp, and pride began to wane in the cities of the league early in the fifteenth century, and the movement was accelerated by the change of ocean routes of trade due to the discovery of America, and the Cape of Good Hope way to India. The final extinction came as late as October, 1888, when the free cities of Hamburg and Bremen, whose right to remain free ports had been ratified in the imperial constitution of 1871, renounced their ancient privileges and became completely merged in the autocratic Fatherland.

With good reason the world's commerce is to-day accepted as one of the most imposing and unique phenomena of our time. It is but necessary to consult a statistical handbook in order to obtain a conception of the gigantic figures involved in the exports and imports of the multifarious articles of commerce to and from all countries—figures whose magnitude precludes the possibility of forming an adequate conception of their true significance. No less astonishing are the means employed by traffic to-day to develop our system of credit and our complex and useful web of communication. One fact, however, should be borne in mind: namely, that our commerce is of comparatively modern growth. The two factors chiefly responsible for its development were: (1) The great voyages of discovery which began at the close of the fifteenth century and opened a theretofore unsuspected field of production and consumption; and (2) the utilization of steam, that great triumph of the nineteenth century. Perhaps a brief sketch of that earlier commercial development which immediately preceded our extensive modern commercial network may not be unwelcome to the reader desirous of contrasting the narrower but nevertheless fascinating mediæval conditions of the German Hansa with those prevailing in our present mercantile world. Let us inquire how the confederation of the Hansa arose, and, after briefly sketching its external history, review in greater detail its commercial and industrial methods, its art work, domestic life, and constitution.

The development of the German Hansa may be traced to two principal sources: (1) The associations formed by German merchants abroad, and (2) the union established by the Low-German cities at home.

In the days of Charlemagne, Germany's eastern boundary was extended to the Elbe, and beyond it to Holstein, but it was not until four centuries later, that is, in the reign of Frederick Barbarossa, that the Baltic was reached, the southern borders of which sea, now constituting Mecklenburg, Pomerania, and Prussia, having theretofore been inhabited chiefly by Slavonic and Lithuanian peoples. The credit for this increase of power is due primarily to the Saxon duke Henry the Lion, who, while the Emperor was engaged in maturing and executing mighty plans of world conquest, developed upon this virgin soil an extraordinary colonial activity, transplanting hither German peasants, burghers, and priests, and with them German customs and Christian civilization. In this way there arose about the year A.D. 1200, upon soil wrested from the Slavs, a number of promising towns, foremost among which was Lubeck, a place endowed by Duke Henry with municipal rights especially designed to promote commercial intercourse and affording liberal and far-reaching privileges to the counsellors and burghers. Soon thereafter the rapidly developing neighboring cities of Wismar, Rostock, Stralsund, Greifswald, Anklam, and Stettin, usually called "the Wendish cities," became participants in the constitution thus granted. The territory now grew rapidly. In the course of the thirteenth century, the then pagan country of Prussia and the present Baltic provinces of Russia were conquered by the Teutonic knights and kindred orders and were occupied and settled. The same historical process which took place in Greece, and in more recent times in America, also repeated itself here: the youthful colonial offshoots overcame the narrowing and confining influence of the mother country, yet reacted favorably upon it by virtue of that vivifying influence, due to more rapid and exuberant growth.

In the mean time the other countries contiguous to the North and Baltic seas, that is, Russia, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, and England, had become converted to Christianity. Some of them, indeed, had embraced the Christian creed several centuries prior to this time. The natural consequence was that a lively intercourse was cultivated upon the two seas, especially after the crusades, which enterprises, by opening new avenues of commerce and increasing the knowledge concerning numerous articles of utility, had greatly augmented the demands of the people of the Occident. The extraordinary development of trade on the Baltic, indeed, vividly recalls the ancient commercial activity on the Mediterranean; and the phrase, "a basin fruitful of culture," often applied to the latter region, may with equal justice be applied also to the former. In the beginning, Russians, Danes, and Englishmen participated in the active trade conducted on the northern littoral. Eventually, however, they were displaced by their German rivals. As the northern nations upon their acceptance of Christianity had once before formed their political and social institutions upon German models, so they now, in such cities as Stockholm, Bergen, Copenhagen, and others, became subject to the cultural and, above all, the commercial influence of the German burgher.

It is interesting to note the manner in which this extraordinary influence was secured. In later mediæval times all classes of the population were compelled to rely upon self-help. In other words, they were compelled to replace the defective or insufficient protection afforded by the State by corporate bodies. Thus the merchants of a Low-German German town, when in search of a common centre of trade, pledged themselves by a solemn oath to a defensive and offensive alliance and mutual furtherance; and wider alliances between the various towns themselves soon followed. Of all these private commercial associations none attained to greater importance than did the Gothland Company, a society of Low-German merchants who visited Gothland, the centre of commercial activity in the Baltic, for trading purposes. Here was the seat of the mighty city of Wisby, which contained such wealth that a Danish king once declared that the swine there ate from silver troughs. Even at the present day the massive ruins of the old city wall and of the eighteen churches which once existed there bear testimony to the former magnitude and grandeur of the city. The Gothland Company flourished chiefly during the thirteenth century and enjoyed all the privileges of a political power; bearing its own seal, policing the seas, and insisting upon strict compliance on the part of all navigators of the Baltic with the marine laws which it had created.

Parallel with this development was the formation of unions between inland towns, caused by the depredations of robber-knights; the menacing increase of power among the nobility; and by commercial motives of all kinds, as, for example, the necessity of preventing banished criminals and debtors from seeking an asylum in neighboring communities. Along the entire region from Esthland to Holland, both of which at that time belonged to the German crown, the municipalities united. In the far-western part of the German empire there was the municipal group of the Netherlands, among which such cities as Amsterdam, Utrecht, and Deventer belonged. Farther inland was the Rhenish-Westphalian group, consisting of Cologne, Dortmund, Munster, and others, which cities, though somewhat distant from the sea, nevertheless occupy a place of honor as pioneers of German marine commerce. Between these two western groups and those in the East there was a wide gap extending as far as the mouths of the Elbe and the Weser. At the entrance to these rivers, however, and along the borders of the Baltic were the great maritime communities, the chief members of the Hanseatic League, including the before-mentioned Wendish group and the cities of Bremen and Hamburg. Yet not these alone, although they were in some respects the most important. Inland, the municipal groups extended so as to embrace Berlin, then very unimportant, Perleberg, etc., in the Mark of Brandenburg, the Saxon cities of Magdeburg, Hanover, Luneburg, Goslar, Hildesheim, Brunswick, and others; in the far-eastern part of the empire the six rapidly growing cities of the Teutonic order, Kulm, Thorn, Dantzic, Elbing, Braunsberg, and Koenigsberg; and finally, in Livonia and Esthonia, Riga, Dorpat, Reval, and Pernau. Noteworthy was the treaty concluded in A.D. 1241, between Hamburg and Lubeck, whereby the former assumed control of the interests in the North Sea and the Elbe, while the latter safeguarded those of the Baltic. This treaty between Hamburg and Lubeck is sometimes regarded as the beginning of the Hanseatic League. It has here been sufficiently demonstrated, however, that the association was the result of a slow and gradual process, enforced by conditions, and that it did not originate in the mind of any particular statesman as a definite plan.

The two groups, the maritime and the inland municipal, had developed independently: it now remained to unite them; and from the union thus effected sprang the great institution of the German Hansa. The private associations, not excepting the Gothland Company, in view of the rapid extension of commerce and the consequent jealousy of foreign competitors, were no longer able to afford sufficient protection to the foreign trade—a condition which did not escape the statesmen of Lubeck, with their marked power of initiative and political sagacity.

Thus it came, during the last decades of the thirteenth century, that the private societies became more and more dependent upon the municipal unions, which, under the leadership of the free and centrally located city of Lubeck, now assumed the energetic guardianship of maritime commerce, by reason of which they were drawn from their hitherto isolated position and gradually became fused into an increasingly compact union.

Already at the close of the thirteenth century the young institution of the Hansa received its initiation in warfare in a conflict with the kingdom of Norway, which country was compelled to purchase peace at the price of new and greater concessions to the league. Soon thereafter, however, the steady progress of the Hansa met with a rebuff. Denmark, at that time the foremost power of the North, had for more than a century endeavored to obtain the supremacy of the Baltic, at the entrance to which it was so advantageously situated. At one time Lubeck was for an entire decade forced into a sort of vassalage to the energetic king Eric Menved of Denmark, although the relations to the sister-cities of the league, which had never been entirely severed, were subsequently restored and confirmed by new treaties. When finally, in A.D. 1361, the Danish king Waldemar Atterdag, inspired by rapacity and revenge, went so far as to fall upon the metropolis of the Baltic, the Swedish city of Wisby, in the midst of peace, and to annex it, thereby inflicting serious losses upon the resident Low-German merchants, Lubeck once more placed herself at the head of the Wendish cities and at the diet of Greifswald decreed war against the ruthless invader. But the expedition proved disastrous, owing chiefly to the tardiness of the kings of Sweden and Norway, who had been drawn into the alliance. Nevertheless, the unfortunate admiral of the Lubeck fleet, Johann Wittenborg, who also enjoyed the rank of burgomaster of the Hanseatic city, was put to the axe in the public market-place of Lubeck in expiation of his failure.

A doubtful peace was now concluded with the Danes, but was soon broken by their renewed plunderings of Hanseatic vessels and the obstacles placed by them upon traffic. Another passage at arms was required. The ensuing conflict was the greatest and most glorious ever fought, not only by the Hansa, but by Germany, upon the sea. In 1367 deputies from the Prussian, Wendish, and Netherlandish cities assembled in the city hall of Cologne and there prepared those memorable articles of confederation which decreed another war with King Waldemar of Denmark; stipulated the levying of a definite contingent of troops on the part of the contracting cities; provided for a duty on exports to defray the expenses of the campaign; and draughted letters of protest to the Pope, to Emperor Charles IV, and to many of the German princes. That auspicious day marks a turning-point in the history of the Hanseatic League, and was fraught with high importance to the whole German empire. The preliminary history of the Hansa here ends and its brilliant epoch begins. The warships of the cities and their army so thoroughly vanquished Denmark that, after two years of warfare, the Danish royal council and the representatives respectively of the municipalities, the nobility, and the clergy despatched a commission of thirty-two to Stralsund to sign a treaty, ostensibly in the name of their fugitive ruler—a treaty which may justly be said to mark the climax in the development of the power of the burghers of Germany.

The treaty not only provided for considerable concessions in matters of navigation and intercourse, but also conceded to the members of the Cologne confederation, comprising about sixty Hansa cities, the right to occupy and to fortify for a period of fifteen years the four chief castles on Skane—Helsingborg, Malmo, Scanov, and Falsterbo—commanding the sound, the most important maritime highway traversed by the Hanseatic vessels.

But the most extraordinary privilege granted by this treaty was that making the subsequent election of a king for Denmark subject to the approval of the confederation—thus assigning to the burghers a right such as no king or emperor of that time exercised over a foreign state. The confederates, however, wisely declined to avail themselves of this dangerous prerogative, not only for political reasons, but also because of the clever negotiations of the youthful queen Margaret, the daughter and heir of Waldemar, who, by the union of Kalmar in 1397, became invested with the triple crown of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. The fact remains, however, that the Hansa for the ensuing century and a half maintained its title as the foremost of maritime and as one of the principal political powers—and that entirely unaided and without the sanction of kaiser or empire.

Let us take a very general survey of this glorious period, concerning which many interesting disclosures have recently been made, and endeavor to obtain, if possible, a glimpse of the activity of these busy cities and of the confederation which they formed.

As to commerce, the first task which the confederation set itself to fulfil was the abolition of that early mediæval condition which inclined to regard the stranger in foreign parts as devoid of rights. The efforts of the confederation in this particular resulted in the acquisition of hundreds of privileges, secured either singly or conjointly by the cities. The contents of the treaties are usually the same: (1) Protection of person and goods; (2) abolition of the law which declared forfeit to the feudal lord such goods as, for instance, might happen to fall from a wagon and thereby touch the ground; (3) the abolition of the strand right, which had secured to the owner of the shore land the jetsam and flotsam of wrecked or stranded vessels; (4) the concession of legal procedure to the debtor; (5) liberation from the duel and other forms of the "divine judgment" in legal procedure; (6) the reduction of duties; (7) permission to sell at retail, as for example, cloth and linen by the ell—a privilege previously accorded only to natives. These are but a few of the privileges secured, the most important of which, however, remains to be mentioned. This was the establishment of branches and bureaus in the most frequented commercial centres abroad. On the other hand, the confederation never had the remotest intention of granting similar privileges to the nations from which these concessions had been secured, such as the English, Flemish, Norwegians, Danes, and Russians. On the contrary. In Cologne, for example, foreign merchants were permitted only three times a year and then for a period of three weeks only. Never, perhaps, in history has a monopoly been so rigidly and relentlessly enforced—a monopoly which not only rested upon the nation at home, but which made bold incursions into the sovereignty of foreign states in order to smother their independent trade, or, as in Norway, utterly to stamp it out.

Of the two great avenues of trade, that indicated by the termini Bruges and Novgorod is first deserving of mention. For centuries it was practically used exclusively by merchants of the Hansa, who, moreover, were forbidden to form copartnerships with foreigners, such as Russians and Englishmen. Novgorod, well guarded against pirates and situated in the navigable Volkhov, was at that time in a sense the capital of the much-divided Russian empire. This city, since the day of its founder, Rurik, had been the centre of Russian trade and enjoyed an almost republican independence. From this point diverged the most frequented highways of trade to the Dnieper and the Volga. From Russia the German merchant exported chiefly fine furs, such as beaver, ermine, and sable, and enormous quantities of wax, which to-day, as formerly, is still obtained in the central wooded parts of the country where apiculture is extensively prosecuted. His imports, on the other hand, consisted of fine products of the loom, articles of wool, linen, and silk; of boots and shoes, usually manufactured at home of Russian leather; and finally, of beer, metal goods, and general merchandise. It is evident, therefore, that the German merchant provided Russia—which country was at that time industrially in a very primitive condition—with all the necessaries required.

Bruges, in Flanders, the western terminus of the before-mentioned highway of commerce, was during the last centuries of the Middle Ages approximately what London is to the world of to-day. It was, beside Venice, the actual world-mart of the Continent, a centre where Italians, Spaniards, Portuguese, Frenchmen, and High- and Low-Germans—a motley throng—congregated to exchange their goods. Thither the Hanseatic merchant transported wood and other forest products; building stones and iron, the latter being still forged in primitive forest smithies; and copper from the rich mines of Falun, the ore from which was usually sold or mortgaged to the Lubeck merchants. From the Baltic countries he imported grain, and from Scandinavia herring and cod—all natural products, in exchange for which he sent to the respective countries his own manufactured goods. In Bruges he represented the entire northern region, both in the giving and the receiving of merchandise, for only through his instrumentality could the gifts of the East, such as oil, wine, spices, silk, and other articles of luxury, which were usually transported through the Alpine passes and thence down the Rhine to Bruges, be distributed among the northern nations. This applies also to the highly prized textiles of Flanders, which in those days were sometimes sold at fabulous prices.

The other stream of Hanseatic trade terminated at London. The German merchant sent thither chiefly French wines and Venetian silks. It was he who attended to this traffic—not the consumer or the producer. In exchange for these commodities he took English wool—the output being already at that time very extensive—transporting it to the mills of Flanders. Such was at that time the commercial relation of Germany to England. If the latter country to-day, by virtue of its incomparably favorable geographical position, has become the first naval and commercial power, it was in an economic sense at that time absolutely dependent upon Germany, which country, after the loss of its political supremacy, outstripped all other nations in the contest for economic supremacy—excepting perhaps the Arabians and the republics of Northern Italy, who controlled the trade in the Orient and the Mediterranean. Naturally the English merchants were jealous and frequently brought complaints before their kings and parliaments; but the latter, despite occasional contentions, ever and again upheld the foreign invader. The reason is not far to seek: like the kings of the north, they could not dispense with the silver chests of the Hanseatic towns and merchants, who on more than one occasion secured their loans by appropriating the products of the tin mines or the duties on wool, or by taking in pawn crown and jewels.

It is evident, therefore, that the greatest source of wealth to the Hansa was this intermediary traffic. Several other important commercial connections will be touched upon later. Casual mention should here be made, however, to the trade with Scotland, Ireland, Brabant, and France, whose annual markets were regularly attended by the Hansa merchants. While the trade of the cities of the league found such wide extension abroad, however, the traffic with their nearest neighbors, the High-Germans, was very weak. Their domestic trade, indeed, was confined chiefly to the plains of Northern Germany, extending southward to Thuringia and eastward to the Oder and the Vistula, where Cracow constituted the last outpost. The great High-German communities along the Main and the Danube pursued different political and economic interests. Being chiefly manufacturing cities, they formed only temporary unions. Dependent rather upon the south of Europe, they were also differentiated from their northern brethren by their coinage, inasmuch as they accepted gold as their standard, whereas the Low-Germans preferred silver money, especially that of Lubeck. Of course each Hanse town formed the nucleus of the local intercourse; and thither came noblemen and peasant to barter the produce of the fields for the merchandise of the city, and to invest, or probably more frequently to borrow, money. Lubeck and Bruges were in those days the money centres of Northern Europe, and their councillors and commercial magnates were the bankers of kings and princes.

The methods of transportation and intercourse at that time were very different from those of to-day. There was no postal service, no insurance, very sparse circulation of bills, and very little of that agency—or commission—business, which relegates to a third party the transportation and management of goods. Trade was very largely a matter of individual enterprise, demanding in a far greater measure than to-day the personal superintendence of the merchant. Usually the latter himself travelled well-armed across sand and sea to distant lands, trusting in God and upon his strong right arm. As master of a vessel he did not fail to interest his crew in the safety of the ship and cargo by allotting to them part of the profits. Indeed, his journey was far more perilous than it is to-day. Upon the public highway he was subject to the attack of the robber barons, who held him prisoner against heavy ransom; and in the innumerable hiding-places of the rock-bound northern coast his course was followed by the watch-boats of pirates. The occupations of highway robbery and piracy were at that time still regarded among wide circles as excusable. Dozens of feudal castles, the retreats of robber barons, were destroyed by the soldiers of the municipalities, and dozens of freebooting vessels were annihilated, the robbers themselves being executed with axe or sword or thrown overboard. The piracy of that age reached its acme in the notorious "Society of Equal Sharers" or "Brotherhood of Victuallers." This consisted of an incongruous aggregation of noble and plebeian blades, who, despite their excessive brutality, nevertheless possessed some genuine knightly characteristics, the hardihood and bravery of the true mariner, and a boundless love of adventure. Formed during the eighth decade of the fourteenth century for the purpose of assisting the King of Sweden against the martial queen Margaret of Denmark, its immediate object at that time was the supplying of victuals to the beleaguered city of Stockholm—whence its name. When, upon the surrender of the city and the establishment of peace, the immediate object of the society had been fulfilled, the attraction of freebooting proved too strong for these wild companions, whose excesses now assumed an increasingly alarming form. For more than a half century they remained the terror of the northern seas. Almost annually the cities were compelled to send out vessels against them, which, however, were not always so successful as the celebrated Bunte Kuh ("Brindled Cow") of Hamburg, which captured the most dangerous of the piratic captains, Claus Stoertebeker and Godeke Michel, with their followers and their fabulous treasures, and brought them to Hamburg. Tradition has it that for three days the public executioner stood ankle-deep in the blood of the condemned. Nevertheless, the seafaring public did not suspect the presence of a robber behind every bush or cliff. After all, an undisturbed voyage was the rule rather than the exception; sensational occurrences, of course, then, as now, playing an important part in the reports of the time.

To these social disorders must be added elemental dangers of all kinds, such as the tides and shallows of the North Sea—the shallow waters contiguous to the coast being chiefly navigated—dangers against which neither compass nor chronometer was then available. Even buoys and lighthouses were comparatively rare or inadequate at a time when nautical knowledge itself was still extremely defective. It was therefore not astonishing that shipwrecks were of daily occurrence and were of course followed by all the evils of that cruel and barbarous "Strand law" which, despite all papal edicts and voluntary treaties, could not be abrogated, but was actually carried out by the Archbishop of Bremen himself.

Notwithstanding all these hinderances, the sea voyage, which, by reason of the dangers attending it, was strictly prohibited during the winter months, was incomparably safer and pleasanter than the journey by land. The traveller by land was strictly confined to the prescribed highway of travel, every deviation from which was regarded as a defraudation of the customs and was punished by confiscation of goods. The inconveniences to which the merchant was subjected in the way of taxes are almost incredible. As the mediæval spirit was reflected in the confusion of coinage—nearly every petty count and every city eventually enjoying the privilege of a private mint—so also was the deplorable disunion existing among the German people mirrored in the innumerable road and water taxes. Above Hamburg, along a road about twelve German miles in extent, there were not fewer than nine customs stations. Fortunately the tariff was not complicated, but was levied on the freight of the ship or wagon, or estimated by the bale or box irrespective of value or the quality of the goods under inspection. Upon the presented crucifix the merchant, aided occasionally by his cojurors, solemnly swore to the correctness of his representations concerning the goods carried by him, the oath, as is well known, being very frequently brought into requisition in all judicial and commercial transactions during mediæval times.

The Hansa ships were usually round-bellied, high-boarded craft with one mast, and flew the pennant of their home port. They were comparatively broad and built of heavy planks, and could easily be transformed into war vessels by furnishing them with a superstructure known as the castell ("castle") in which catapults and archers could be placed. In size they were probably as large as the trading vessels which cross the Baltic to-day. That they were skilfully handled is evident from the fact that a contemporaneous report mentions a trip from Ripen in Jutland to Amsterdam as having been successfully made in two days. As regards the laws of navigation, a point especially noteworthy was the talent displayed in organizing fellowship unions. Reference is not here made to the habit of the merchants in sailing in squadrons so much as to the peculiar institutions which regulated the life on board—institutions which have recently been justly designated as the most perfect expression of that executive ability which characterized the close of German mediævalism. An account of these institutions dating from the middle of the sixteenth century has fortunately been preserved.

As soon as the vessel was upon the high sea the crew, which consisted of the captain and the "ship's children," pledged itself strictly to obey orders and equitably to divide any booty eventually secured. A court of sheriffs was then organized, consisting of a judge, four sheriffs, a sergeant-at-arms, a secretary, an executioner, and several other officials. Thereupon came the proclamation of the maritime law upon which the eventual judgment of the court was based. The tenor of this law was as follows: It is forbidden to swear in God's name; to mention the devil; to sleep after the hour for prayer; to handle lights; to destroy or waste food; to meddle with the duties of the drawer of liquor; to play at dice or cards after sunset; and to vex the cook or annoy the crew under penalty of a monetary fine. The following are some of the penalties inflicted for various offences: Whoever sleeps while on guard or creates a disturbance between decks shall be drawn under the keel of the vessel; whoever attempts to draw weapons on board, be they long or short, shall have the respective weapon run through his hand into the mast, so that he will have to draw the weapon through his own hand again if he would free himself; whoever accuses another unjustly shall pay the double fine prescribed for the offence charged; and no one shall endeavor to take revenge upon the executioners. Upon the completion of the voyage the court resigned, after dispensing a general amnesty and partaking of bread and salt in company with the rest of the crew. Upon landing, the monetary fines which had been collected from delinquents on board were presented to the lord of the strand for benevolent distribution.

On arriving at the end of his journey the merchant was confronted by new difficulties. It not infrequently happened that the master of the port visited by him had, within the time elapsed since the departure of the vessel from home, fallen into strife with the respective Hanse town whose ensign the vessel bore. As newspapers and despatches were at that time unknown, it is not difficult to conjecture the difficulties with which a merchant had to contend. Moreover, he required an exact knowledge of local conditions and of the legal rights accorded him, which were different in each city and always inferior to those of the native inhabitants. To-day, as a rule, a foreigner, wherever he may be, enjoys the full benefits of the place he happens to visit, equally with the resident citizen. It was not so in the days of the Hansa, and hence the constant endeavor of the league to obtain firmly established offices or bureaus abroad. At an early date such a bureau existed in London under the name of the Stahlhof, another at Novgorod under the name of the St. Petershof, and still others at smaller towns in England and the Netherlands—each having its peculiar privileges, customs, and mercantile usages, but all possessing in common the invaluable right of settling any difficulty affecting the members of the league according to their own native code. In London the representative of the league was compelled to become an English citizen, and the entire bureau thus became naturalized, as it were. The same was true of the Hanse bureau at Bruges, a city in which after all, in view of the powerful competition prevailing there, a pronounced monopoly was certain to be curbed to some extent. Here the league merely possessed warerooms, while their agents lived privately among the burghers. The right of holding court in the Carmelite monastery was conceded to them; and there, too, they administered their affairs. In Novgorod, however, the conditions were entirely different. In view of the uncivilized condition and the national prejudices of the Russians, the greatest care had to be exercised in all intercourse with the natives in order that the existence of the entire Hanseatic colony might not be endangered. Consequently, this intercourse was regulated with great circumspection and in all detail both by the diet of the Hanseatic League and by the chiefs of the bureau.

It was, however, in Bergen, Norway, that northernmost station of the Hansa, that the most interesting conditions prevailed. Here, that is, in Norway, the German merchant, by means of money or arms, gradually drove all competitors, including Englishmen, from the field, and in 1350 succeeded in establishing in the most favorably situated and liveliest city of the land, Bergen, the last of his numerous bureaus—a bureau which maintained itself, though in somewhat deteriorated form, until the eighteenth century. This station, created at a late period of Hanseatic expansion, bears testimony to the colonial genius of the German merchants of the league and affords a glimpse into their business methods. It may therefore be deserving of a more detailed consideration.

Twenty-one farms or granges, belonging to as many Hanse towns, dotted the shore. Each of these, surrounded by trees and lawns, covered considerable space and included spacious granaries and dwellings, most of which served also as warehouses. Each grange had its dock, where ships could conveniently land and discharge their goods. The entire space thus occupied by the Hanses was enclosed by a wall, beyond which and running parallel with it was the so-called "Schustergasse"—a street occupied by German artisans, who, though permanently settled here, nevertheless remained closely in touch with their German brethren of the bureau. Every bureau had its Schutting—a spacious, windowless room which depended for light and air upon a hole in the roof, which likewise served as a vent for the smoke issuing from the hearth. It was in this room that the agents of the Hansa merchants assembled to debate on judicial or mercantile affairs. During the long winter evenings the families of the agents, as the assistants and apprentices of the resident factors were pleasantly termed, congregated here, each group at its own particular rough-hewn, wooden table, to indulge in strong drink and pleasant gossip. When the interests of the entire colony were to be discussed, the Ælterleute ("seniors") from every grange would meet in the Schutting belonging to Bremen and called Zum Mantel. This assemblage was called the "Council of Eighteen," the representative of Lubeck enjoying the greatest distinction and wielding the greatest influence among them by reason of the hegemony exercised by his native town. When matters of particular importance arose, or in case of a serious dispute, the affair at issue was usually referred to the Bergenfahrercollegium ("the town council"), or more frequently to the general convention of the Hansa at Lubeck.

The expenses of maintaining the colony, in view of the almost monastic simplicity of life prevailing there and the large membership, were naturally small. In its zenith it probably numbered about three thousand persons, who were subjected to strict laws—as strict, indeed, as those of any camp or monastery. No woman was permitted within the colony, and no person was permitted out of doors after sundown, unless, indeed, he wished to run the gauntlet of the fierce watchdogs which guarded the reservations of the settlers. The members and employés of the Hansa who resided here were not permitted to marry Norwegian women, in order that their special rights and privileges might not be endangered through intermixture with the natives. How considerable were these special rights the reader may determine from the fact that, during the weekly markets, the members of the Hansa bureaus had the streets barricaded by powerful fellows who permitted no one to interfere with the valuable privilege of priority conceded to the Hanses in the matter of barter. Naturally enough the purchasing price of goods was arbitrarily set by the latter under these conditions, while the fixing of the selling price, in the absence of all competition, was a matter of course.

That the exercise of such pressure sometimes disturbed the serenity of the Norwegian can readily be conjectured, especially when it is considered that the average Northman is by no means indisposed to have a little brush with his neighbor now and then. But in such an event the Germans usually gave tit for tat, and that with a vengeance. On one occasion they killed a bishop in the presence of the king; at various other times they burned monasteries over the heads of the inmates; and frequently they sheltered criminals, or demolished entire dwellings in order to obtain kindling wood speedily and conveniently.

Only by means of concord among themselves and strict exclusiveness could the Hanses for centuries maintain their position upon that inhospitable and thinly peopled shore. The novice, who usually entered the service of the Hansa at the age of twelve, was compelled to serve an apprenticeship of seven years, during which his duties consisted also in cooking, cleaning, and washing for and in waiting upon the older clerks. Thereafter he advanced to the position of journeyman, his inauguration being attended by festive, highly suggestive, and, to the beholder, amusing ceremonies. These ceremonies began with a great drinking bout arranged at the youth's expense. The next feature of the programme was entitled Das Staupenspiel im Paradies ("the Walloping in Paradise"), a procedure to which every apprentice was exposed annually and to which on this occasion he bade a final farewell. This part of the ceremony consisted in setting apart a space enclosed within birch boughs, on entering which the blindfolded and scantily attired youth who was to be initiated into the order of journeymen was thoroughly trounced by "angels of paradise" in the form of lusty companions who were usually unsparing of the rod. A festive procession through the streets followed. It was led by two fantastically attired youngsters who impersonated a Norwegian peasant and his wife, and whose duty it was to play tricks upon the sightseers and to amuse them. After a baptism in the sea the unfortunate youth who figured as the hero of this festival was subjected to a procedure akin to that of roasting a herring in the flue; and it is singular enough that the records show only one case of death by suffocation consequent upon this ordeal. Good days, however, now followed upon evil ones, and the youthful novitiate was fêted and entertained by his companions and made to forget the sufferings and hardships of his initiation. Many other pastimes were indulged in by the members of the bureaus, which, however, cannot be touched upon here. Suffice it to say that they were characterized by the humor and roughness of the age. Despite repeated attempts of the Hansa and of the several cities to put an end to these sports, they nevertheless continued to be practised for centuries, upon the rather plausible plea that they served as a wholesome training for the mercantile youth. Never before or since, however, has the pedagogy of the rod found so thoroughgoing an application as here.

One of the busiest centres of Hanseatic activity remains to be touched upon: namely, the small tongue of land near Skanor and Falsterbo, and constituting an appendage of the larger peninsula of Skane or Schonen. The once prosperous stretch of beach here referred to is now a desert tract of sand, the furrows and ruins on which are the only relics of the busy commercial life once prevailing. After the herring had during the tenth and eleventh centuries visited the Pomeranian coast in great shoals, it changed its course to the above-mentioned region of the Sound. The Hanses were not slow to avail themselves of this circumstance. They succeeded in securing a practical ownership of this most valuable district of Denmark; thereby demonstrating how incredibly incompetent the princes of the land were at that time as regards the utilization of their natural resources. These princes actually granted to several German cities, and, moreover, to each individually, the right to establish reservations here—the so-called Vitten—consisting of fenced enclosures on the coast, within which were erected vendors' and fish-booths, dwellings, and even churches, all under the administration of special governors appointed by the Germans. From this point the herring grounds were readily accessible. The fishing lasted from July until October; and during this time merchants, fishermen, and coopers resorted here by thousands to fish as well as to salt, smoke, pack, and load the produce of the net. In connection with this industry there were held in the immediate vicinity much-frequented annual markets, the distributing centres for home consumption. At the beginning of the fifteenth century the capricious fish suddenly took another direction, visiting the coast of Holland, to the people of which he thenceforth became as lucrative a source of revenue as he had been to the Hanses. It has been said that Amsterdam with all its wealth is built upon herrings; and a similar statement could once be applied with equal justice to the Hansa cities of the Baltic.

Concerning the characteristic methods of conducting trade it may be well here to add that during the distant period here under consideration a so-called commission business could scarcely be said to exist; and this is true also of speculation in the narrower sense. While buying and selling on time were not infrequent, especially in the grain market, the transactions were upon an infinitely smaller scale than as conducted at present, when, as the saying goes, "goods is sold a dozen times before it is actually available." The unsound methods at present in vogue, based as they are upon fluctuations in price, were then scarcely known. "Goods in exchange for goods or its equivalent in money" was the motto of the Hanseatic merchant, who, however, was by no means always entirely guiltless of fraudulent operations. Often enough the lowermost layers of herring in the keg consisted of spoiled goods, and not infrequently a bale of linen had to be returned from station to station to the place whence it was sent in order that it might be reëxamined as to quantity and quality. In these transactions the crafty dealer usually preferred to take advantage of the proverbial simplicity of the Norwegian.

The scope of the Hansa trade was greater than one would imagine. It was greater, for example, than that of the maritime towns of Germany for the period immediately preceding the era of steam navigation, i.e., about 1830. The fish trade was at that early period far more brisk, partly because the herring then visited the shores of the Baltic, and partly because the church laws relative to abstinence from meat during the fasts were rigidly observed by all the states of Christian Europe. A few figures will serve vividly to illustrate this change: In 1855, 3,700 kegs of herring were imported by way of Lubeck, as against 33,000 kegs for the period 500 years previous; and in the year of war, 1369, despite the embargo with Denmark, a great consumer, the exports of herring from thirty Hanseatic ports yielded a sum of 130,000,000 marks, 40,000,000 of which fell to the share of Hamburg, then a much smaller city than Lubeck.

It is natural, in the light of these commercial conditions, that industry, and handicraft also, must have greatly flourished. In those days there were twice as many bakers in Lubeck as at present. The coopers, also, in view of the great demand for herring kegs, were in high repute, and scarcely less so the brewers, who at that time greatly excelled their South German competitors. The beer of Hamburg or Rostock was never absent from a northern feast. Nearly all the cities from Livonia to the mouth of the Weser were surrounded by gardens of hops, and Hamburg especially owed its rapid rise during the fourteenth century chiefly to its brewers, at times five hundred or more in number, one hundred and twenty-six of whom supplied the market of Amsterdam alone. Not only representatives of the higher industrial arts, such as goldsmiths, metal workers, picture carvers, paternoster makers, and altar makers, but shoemakers and other handicraftsmen were to be found in the Far North, which, at that time, was still somewhat deficient in these matters. There is report of a worthy shoemaker, who, after sojourning in Russia, repaired to Stockholm, where he entered the service of a knight, and thence to Santiago di Compostela, where he wrought for pilgrims.

All these trades were divided into guilds and sequestered in certain streets or localities; and it was long before they were permitted to participate in the city government, which rested solely in the hands of the great landlords and merchant princes. In the fourteenth century, however, following the example of the South German communities, the "Rebellious Guilds" arose also in the Hanse towns and inaugurated that far-reaching democratic movement akin to the War of the Classes in ancient Rome. The guilds demanded a seat and a voice in the municipal councils, and made the payment of their quota dependent upon this concession. Most of the Northern cities experienced bloody insurrections at this time, and the hangman was very busy. Now the victory was with the patricians, and anon with the plebeians; and the contest was continually renewed with changing fortune. After holding aloof for some time the Hanseatic League finally took part in this purely internal affair of the several cities, and always in favor of the patrician party; in this way assuming a function originally foreign to its purpose.

The movement was a perfectly natural and justifiable one. Though originally subject to service and tribute on the part of bishop, cloister, or prince, the condition of the tradesman changed with the establishment of the principle that long unchallenged residence in a city insured personal freedom to the individual—a privilege which in those days of marked class discrimination was shared only by the burgher and the monk. Among the two last-mentioned classes even the low-born individual could rise by his own efforts: here neither prejudice nor privilege interfered with the free exercise of native talent. Many a poor apprentice in the bureau of Bergen eventually became the progenitor of a long race of distinguished merchants; and some of these families are flourishing in Europe to-day. It is but natural that the handicraftsman, once released from his bonds, should have desired to share these privileges, more particularly as the old aristocratic régime constantly became more assertive and presumptuous. It is necessary also to consider that the former social position of the artisan should not be measured by present standards; for the difference in the educational status of the classes was not nearly so pronounced then as now, and the workman, moreover, was characterized by a spirit often as chivalrous as that of the commercial magnate. There is a well-authenticated case of a shoemaker challenging another member of his craft to a duel—which, by the way, had a fatal termination—without exciting either serious comment or ridicule.

History teaches that where commerce and industry flourish, art also secures its triumphs. The glorious Gothic cathedrals of the Hanseatic cities bear eloquent testimony to this truth. "The Northlander who entered the Trave or the Vistula and beheld the multitude of soaring church spires must have felt as did once the German pilgrim to Rome," says a modern investigator. The principal representative and patron of this art culture, here as elsewhere during the Middle Ages, was the Church. But the splendid town halls as well as the few private mansions preserved, with their step-like aggregation of gables, afford convincing evidence alike of the solid appreciation of art as of the love of splendor which characterized that distant generation. Certain it is that they greatly surpassed us in the domain of Gothic architecture. Owing to the strict adherence to the Catholic dogma a scientific development in the modern sense was, of course, impossible in those days; and, although most of the parish churches had their schools also, these were commonly designed chiefly for the sons of patricians, whose schooling usually embraced a little Latin and some reading, writing, and singing. Not infrequently the only scholar in the place was the town clerk, the forerunner of our present recorder.

The robust, healthy German of that day, yielding to a tendency which has characterized our people from immemorial times, preferred the more to surrender himself to a life of solid comfort and good cheer. The Middle Age was one which inclined to favor the enjoyment of life. It is but necessary to consider the variegated costumes, rich in color, whose ultimate extravagances necessitated special dress regulations, as well as the tournaments, the numerous archer festivals, and the frequent masquerades, to realize that the people of that day appreciated the good things of life. On the occasion of baptisms, weddings, and other domestic events, great feasts were frequently arranged in the house of the guilds or even in the town hall; and many princely visitors were here also entertained at the expense of the municipal budget. The administration of the cellarage of the municipal council was also then considered a far more respectable post than now. All these facts attest the prosperity of the Hanseatic towns. Fortunes of one hundred thousand marks were by no means exceptional, and were often invested in neighboring knightly estates (feofs), thereby sometimes securing to the owner an eventual admission to the ranks of the nobility. At one time—i.e., after the great Hanseatic war—the city of Lubeck owned the entire dukedom of Lauenburg.

The constitution of these municipalities provided for a council consisting of from twelve to twenty-four members who, though elected for life, alternated in terms of office ranging from two to three years. These members had the privilege of appointing their successors from among the eligible families of the Hanse town. The heads of the council consisted of from two to four burgomasters, who presided at the meetings. The position of member of the council was a purely honorary one. The duties comprised the administration of municipal affairs; of military and judicial affairs; of the archives; the exercise of police supervision over the market, the marine service, and the guilds; and, most important of all, the administration of the finances. They fixed the taxes, for which frequently no receipt was given or demanded; the money on such occasions being deposited unnoticed in a box set apart for the purpose—a proof that the payment of taxes at that time was regarded as a point of honor by the burgher and without suspicion by the magistrate.

The general character of the municipal life of the Hanse towns in those days has been well compared by a modern writer to a family household. The workman regarded himself within his circle as an official of the city—a fact shown by the use of the word Aemter ("offices") to designate the guilds. Hence the strong municipal patriotism which animated these burghers and which compensates in some degree for the absence of that great political enthusiasm which is derived from the consciousness of a united country. A quaint genre picture of the time, preserved at Bremen, represents a native of the latter city and another from Lubeck sitting together in a tavern and disputing as to the comparative merits of their respective towns. The controversy reaches its climax by one of the disputants declaring stolidly that he too might "master such words" and taking a long and mighty draught.

The separate towns, usually upon a request of the Lubeck council, would send their deputies to confer jointly upon matters affecting the league, these conferences or diets usually being held in some Wendish city. On no occasion, however, were all the towns of the league represented at these conferences. Their constitution was absolutely free from all theoretical or rigid forms or ordinances. Whoever found that his interests were especially affected by the subject under discussion sent representatives to the diet of the league, and these usually discharged their duties faithfully, without shirking the long and arduous trip even during the winter season. The conferences held in this way were probably wider in their scope than those of any other power of the time. Usually, however, not political, but commercial, matters were discussed. There was no common treasury. Whenever money was required an export duty was levied, with which absolute compliance was demanded. An infraction of the laws of the league was punishable by a fine, and in extreme cases by exclusion from the Hansa—a sentence necessarily involving the commercial isolation and eventual bankruptcy of the delinquent city. Bremen, it is true, once withstood the consequences of the Hanseatic ban for more than fifty years, but this was before the extraordinary extension of Hanseatic power consequent upon the Danish war. From all this it appears that the constitution of the Hansa was a very slack but elastic one, which easily adapted itself to the exigencies of the moment. A charter of a Hanseatic constitution has never existed—proof in itself of the desire to afford as much latitude as possible in the construction of the laws. Theory is regarded as valueless; immediate facts and interests are all in all. The supremacy of Lubeck, for example, was never formally recognized by the other cities of the league.

Thus did the Hansa flourish until the close of the Middle Ages. With the discovery of America and of the passage to India trade was diverted into new channels; it became transoceanic and, not without some culpability on the part of the Hanses themselves, fell into the hands of the now more favorably situated countries of Western Europe—Spain, Portugal, France, the Netherlands, and, finally, England. Equally detrimental to the Hansa was the political transformation wrought at this time, especially as regards the rapidly growing power of the princes, who, with all the influence at their command, sought to abrogate all special privileges and to foster a levelling process in order that they alone might be exalted. One city after another sank into utter dependence upon the sovereign rulers of the respective provinces, who, in their turn, began to take an interest in economic affairs, thus contributing to widen the breach between these respective cities and the league. It was under these circumstances that Gustavus Vasa declared of the Hansa that "Its teeth were falling out, like those of an old woman." The Hollanders, especially, had long been converted from allies into formidable rivals. The most important and decisive factor of this decadence, however, was the victorious opposition to the Hanseatic monopoly now brought to bear by the hitherto commercially oppressed nations, England and Russia, who simply closed the doors of the bureaus and abrogated the privileges of the German merchants of the league. The condition of the Hansa was akin to that of a healthy, vigorous tree, set in poor soil and deriving its sustenance from the weakness of the home rulers and the primitive or defective economic conditions of foreign countries. As soon as these negative mediæval conditions were swept away by the storms of the Reformation the tree gradually but surely fell into decay. With this later stage there is associated the historic tragedy of Jürgen Wullenwever, that genial and daring democratic innovator, who, in an endeavor to conquer Denmark in order to restore the prestige of the Hansa, was betrayed by his patrician fellow-burghers and hanged.

The Hansa, though in a stage of increasing decrepitude, now lingered on until the final crash came in 1630, when all the members dissolved their allegiance to the league. Only the three Hanse towns of Hamburg, Bremen, and Lubeck renewed the compact, which, however, to-day is purely nominal. The Hansa had fulfilled its great historic mission. It had impressed the stamp of German culture upon the North; given German commerce the supremacy over that of all other nations; protected the northern and eastern boundaries of the empire at a time when the imperial power was impotent and the State disrupted; and maintained and extended the prestige of the German flag in the northern seas. Said a great German writer: "When all on land was steeped in particularism, the Hansa, our people upon the sea, alone remained faithful to the German spirit and to German tradition."

MAMELUKES USURP POWER IN EGYPT

A.D. 1250

SIR WILLIAM MUIR

From A.D. 969 to 1171 the Arabian dynasty of caliphs called Fatimites—because they professed to trace their descent from Fatima, the daughter of Mahomet—reigned in Egypt. Their downfall was due to their own decline into imbecility, through which they fell into the hands of Turkish viziers who, keeping their nominal masters in subserviency, themselves assumed the actual rule.

For several generations the caliphs of Bagdad, under whose sway the Fatimites were now reduced, had attracted to their capital slaves from Turcoman and Mongol hordes. These slaves they used both as bodyguards and as contingents to offset the dominating influence of the Arab soldiery in their affairs. In the end the slaves superseded the Arab soldiers altogether, and from bondmen became masters of the court. They stirred up riots and rebellion and hastened the fall of the effete caliphate.

Under the Eyyubite dynasty in Egypt, which Saladin founded about 1174, the same practice was followed with the same results. The Eyyubites were strangers in Egypt, and welcomed the support of foreign myrmidons. Slave dealers bought children of conquered tribes in Central Asia, promising them great fortunes in the West. These children, together with prisoners of war from the eastern hordes, streamed into Egypt, where they were again bought by the rulers, who thus unwittingly prepared the way for their own destruction. The military body created by Saladin, called mamelukes ("slaves;" literally "the possessed"), obtained ascendency in the manner here related by Muir.

The thousands who, with uncomely names and barbarous titles, began to crowd the streets of Cairo, occupied a position to which we have no parallel elsewhere. Finding a weak and subservient population, they lorded it over them. Like the children of Israel, they ever kept themselves distinct from the people of the land—but the oppressors, not, like them, the oppressed. Brought up to arms, the best favored and most able of the mamelukes when freed became, at the instance of the Sultan, emirs of ten, of fifty, of a hundred, and often, by rapid leaps, of a thousand. They continued to multiply by the purchase of fresh slaves who, like their masters, could rise to liberty and fortunes.

The sultans were naturally the largest purchasers, as they employed the revenues of the state in surrounding themselves with a host of slaves; we read, for example, of one who bought some six thousand. While the great mass pursued a low and servile life, the favorites of the emirs, and specially of the crown, were educated in the arts of peace and war, and, as pages and attendants, gradually rose to the position of their masters—the slave of to-day, the commander, and not infrequently the sultan of to-morrow.

From the first, insolent and overbearing, the mamelukes began, as time passed on, to feel their power, and grew more and more riotous and turbulent, oppressing the land by oft-repeated pillage and outrage. Broken up into parties, each with the name of some sultan or leader, their normal state was one of internal combat and antagonism; while, pampered and indulged, they often turned upon their masters. Some of the more powerful sultans were able to hold them in order, and there were not wanting occasional intervals of quiet; but trouble and uproar were ever liable to recur.

The Eyyubite princes settled their mamelukes, chiefly Turks and Mongols—so as to keep them out of the city—on an island in the Nile, whence they were called Baharites, and the first mameluke dynasty (1260-1382) was of this race, and called accordingly. The others, a later importation, were called Burjites, from living in the Citadel, or quarters in the town; they belonged more to the Circassian race. The second dynasty (1382-1517) was of these, and, like the Baharite dynasty, bore their name. The mamelukes were for the most part attached faithfully to their masters, and the emirs, with their support, enriched themselves by exactions from the people, with the unscrupulous gains of office, and with rich fiefs from the state. The mamelukes, as a body, thus occupied a prominent and powerful position, and often, especially in later times, forced the Sultan to bend to their will.

Such is the people which for two centuries and a half ruled Egypt with a rod of iron, and whose history we shall now attempt to give.

It was about the middle of the twelfth century that Nureddin and King Amalrich both turned a longing eye toward Egypt, where, in the decrepitude of the Fatimites, dissension and misrule prevailed. The Caliph, in alarm, sought aid first from one and then from the other; and each in turn entered Egypt ostensibly for its defence, but in reality for its possession. A friendly treaty was at last concluded with both; but it was broken by Amalrich, who invaded the country and demanded a heavy ransom. In this extremity, the Caliph again appealed to Nureddin, sending locks of his ladies' hair in token of alarm.

Glad of the opportunity, Nureddin despatched his general, Shirkoh, to the rescue, before whom Amalrich, crestfallen, retired. Shirkoh, having thus delivered the Caliph, gained his favor, and, as vizier, assumed the administration. Soon after he died; and his nephew, Saladin, succeeded to the vizierate. The following year the Caliph also died; and now Saladin, who had by vigorous measures put down all opposition, himself as sultan took possession of the throne. Thus the Fatimite dynasty, which had for two centuries ruled over Egypt, came to an end.

Saladin was son of a Kurdish chief called Eyyub, and hence the dynasty is termed Eyyubite. His capital was Cairo. He fortified the city, using the little pyramid for material, and, abandoning the luxurious palace of the Fatimites, laid the foundations of the Citadel on the nearest crest of the Mokattam range, and to it transferred his residence. After a prosperous rule over Egypt and Syria of above twenty years he died, and his numerous family fell into dissension. At last his brother Adlil, gaining the ascendency, achieved a splendid reign not only at home, but also in the East, from Georgia to Aden. He died of grief at the taking of Damietta by the crusaders, and his grandson Eyyub succeeded to the throne.

It was now that the Charizmian hordes fell upon Syria, and, with horrible atrocities, sacked the holy city. Forming an alliance with these barbarians, the Sultan sent the mameluke general Beibars to join them against his uncle, the Syrian prince Ismail, between whom and the crusaders an unholy union had prevailed. Near Joppa the combined army of Franks and Moslems met at the hands of Beibars and the eastern hordes, with a bloody overthrow; and thus all Syria again fell under Egypt. To establish his power both at home and abroad, the Sultan bought vast numbers of Turkish mamelukes; and it was he who first established them as Baharites on the Nile. His son Turan was the last Eyyubite sultan.

In his reign Louis IX of France invaded Egypt, and, advancing upon Cairo, was defeated and taken prisoner. Turan allowed him to go free; and for this act of kindness, as well as for attempts to curb their outlawry, he was pursued and slain by the Baharite mamelukes, who thereupon seized the government.

The leading mamelukes chose one of themselves, the emir Eibek, to be head of the administration. He contented himself at first to govern in the name of Eyyub's widow, who, indeed, had been in complicity with the assassins of her stepson Turan. The Caliph of Bagdad, however, objected to a female reigning even in name, and so Eibek married the widow; and still further to conciliate the Eyyubites of Syria and Kerak, elevated to the title of sultan a child of the Eyyubite stock.

This concession notwithstanding, Nasir the Eyyubite, ruler of Damascus, advanced on Egypt, but, deserted by his Turkish slaves, was beaten back by Eibek, who returned in triumph to the capital. He soon found it, however, impossible to hold the turbulent mamelukes in hand, for, with the victorious general Aktai at their head, they scorned discipline and defied authority. Eibek, therefore, compassed the death of Aktai, on which the Baharite emirs all rose in rebellion. They were defeated. Many were slain and cast into prison; the rest fled to Nasir, and eventually to Kerak. Among the latter were Beibars and Kilawun, of whom we shall hear more hereafter.

Eibek was now undisputed Sultan, recognized as such by all the powers around. And so he bethought him of taking a princess of Mosul for another wife; on which the Sultana, already estranged, caused him to be put to death; and she too, in the storm that followed, was assassinated by the slave girls of still another wife.

Eibek's minor son was now raised by the emirs to the titular sultanate; and Kotuz, a distinguished mameluke of Charizmian birth, persuaded to assume the uninviting post of vicegerent. The Eyyubite Prince of Kerak, in whose service many of the Baharite mamelukes still remained, attempting, with their help, to seize Egypt, was twice repulsed by Kotuz, and thus obliged to disband the Baharites, who returned to their Egyptian allegiance.

Their return was fortunate, a time of trial being at hand. For it was now that Holagu with his Mongol hordes, having overthrown Bagdad and slain the last of the Abbassides, launched his savage troops on the West. He fulminated a despatch to Nasir the Eyyubite head of Syria, in which he claimed to be "the scourge of the Almighty, sent to execute judgment on the ungodly nations of the earth." Nasir answered it in like defiant terms; but, not being supported by Kotuz, had to fly from Damascus, which was taken possession of by the Mongol tyrant.

After ravaging Syria with unheard-of barbarity, Holagu was recalled to Central Asia by the death of Mangu. Leaving his army behind under Ketbogha, he sent an embassy to Egypt with a letter as threatening as that to Nasir. Kotuz, who had by this time cast the titular Sultan aside and himself assumed the throne, summoned a council and by their advice put the embassy to death. Then awakening to the possibilities of the future, he roused the emirs to action by a stirring address on the danger that threatened Egypt, their families, and their faith.

Gathering a powerful army, the Egyptians advanced to Acre, where they found the crusaders bound by a promise to the Mongols of neutrality. The two armies met at Ain-Jalut, and there, after a fiercely contested battle, and mainly by the bravery of Beibars as well as of Kotuz himself, the Mongols were beaten and Ketbogha slain. On the news reaching Damascus, the city rose upon their barbarian tyrants, and slew not only all the Mongols, but great numbers also of the Jews and Christians who, during the interregnum, had raised their heads against Islam.

Following up their victory, the Egyptians drove the Mongols out of Syria, and pursued them beyond Emessa. Kotuz, thus master of the country, reappointed the former governors throughout Syria, on receiving oath of fealty, to their several posts. For his signal service, Kotuz had led Beibars to expect Aleppo; but, suspicion aroused of dangerous ambition on Beibars' part, he gave that leading capital to another.

Beibars upon this, fearing the fate that might befall him at Cairo, resolved to anticipate the danger. On the return journey, while Kotuz was on the hunting-field alone, he begged for the gift of a Mongol slave girl, and, taking his hand to kiss for the promised favor, seized hold of it while his accomplices stabbed him from behind to death. Beibars was forthwith saluted sultan, and entered Cairo with the acclamations of the people, and with the same festive surroundings as had been prepared for the reception of his murdered predecessor.

THE "MAD PARLIAMENT"

BEGINNING OF ENGLAND'S HOUSE OF COMMONS

A.D. 1258

JOHN LINGARD

     With the loss of Normandy under King John, the barons of
     Norman descent in England had become patriotic Englishmen.
     They forced their monarch to sign the Magna Charta and thus
     laid the foundation of English constitutional liberty.

John died in 1216 and was succeeded by his son Henry of Winchester, a minor in his eleventh year. The celebrated Hubert de Burgh, chief justiciar, soon became regent, and reigned comparatively without control, even after the young King attained his majority. But in 1232 Henry, being in need of money, imprisoned the regent and compelled him to forfeit the greater part of his estate.

After De Burgh's fall, King Henry III became his own master, and was responsible for the measures of government, the wars with foreign powers, the disputes with the Pope and with the barons, during which the evolution of the English parliament made important progress, chiefly through the efforts of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester.

One of the most important episodes of that evolution was the "Mad Parliament"—derisively so called by the royal partisans—at which the Provisions of Oxford, long considered the rash innovations of an ambitious oligarchy, were promulgated. Of this Mad Parliament it has been said, "It would have been well for England if all parliaments had been equally sane."

As to the opinion, repeatedly emphasized in the following account, that De Montfort was false and ambitious, it is well to remind the reader that other historians have looked upon Earl Simon as a disinterested patriot of the highest type.

It was Henry's misfortune to have inherited the antipathy of his father to the charter of Runnymede, and to consider his barons as enemies leagued in a conspiracy to deprive him of the legitimate prerogatives of the crown. He watched with jealousy all their proceedings, refused their advice, and confided in the fidelity of foreigners more than in the affection of his own subjects. Such conduct naturally alienated the minds of the nobles, who boldly asserted that the great offices of state were their right, and entered into associations for the support of their pretensions. Had the King possessed the immense revenues of his predecessors he might perhaps have set their enmity at defiance; but during the wars between Stephen and Maud, and afterward between John and his barons, the royal demesnes had been considerably diminished; and the occasional extravagance of Henry, joined to his impolitic generosity to his favorites, repeatedly compelled him to throw himself on the voluntary benevolence of the nation. Year after year the King petitioned for a subsidy, and each petition was met with a contemptuous refusal. If the barons at last relented, it was always on conditions most painful to his feelings. They obliged him to acknowledge his former misconduct, to confirm anew the two charters, and to promise the immediate dismissal of the foreigners.[60] But Henry looked only to the present moment: no sooner were his coffers replenished than he forgot his promises and laughed at their credulity. Distress again forced him to solicit relief, and to offer the same conditions. Unwilling to be duped a second time, the barons required his oath. He swore, and then violated his oath with as much indifference as he had violated his promise. His next applications were treated with scorn; but he softened their opposition by offering to submit to excommunication if he should fail to observe his engagements. In the great hall of Westminster the King, barons, and prelates assembled; the sentence was pronounced by the bishops with the usual solemnity; and Henry, placing his hand on his breast, added, "So help me God, I will observe these charters, as I am a Christian, a knight, and a king crowned and anointed." The aid was granted, and the King reverted to his former habits.

It was not, however, that he was by inclination a vicious man. He had received strong religious impressions; though fond of parade, he cautiously avoided every scandalous excess; and his charity to the poor and attention to the public worship were deservedly admired. But his judgment was weak. He had never emancipated his mind from the tutelage in which it had been held in his youth, and easily suffered himself to be persuaded by his favorites that his promises were not to be kept, because they had been compulsory and extorted from him in opposition to the just claims of his crown.

On the fall of Hubert de Burgh the King had given his confidence to his former tutor, Peter the Poitevin, Bishop of Winchester. That the removal of the minister would be followed by the dismissal of the other officers of government, and that the favorite would employ the opportunity to raise and enrich his relatives and friends, is not improbable; but it is difficult to believe, on the unsupported assertion of a censorious chronicler, that Peter could be such an enemy to his own interest as to prevail on the King to expel all Englishmen from his court, and confide to Poitevins and Bretons the guard of his person, the receipt of his revenue, the administration of justice, the custody of all the royal castles, the wardship of all the young nobility, and the marriages of the principal heiresses. But the ascendency of the foreigners, however great it might be, was not of very long duration. The barons refused to obey the royal summons to come to the council: the Earl Marshal unfurled the standard of rebellion in Wales, and the clergy joined with the laity in censuring the measures of government. Edmund, the new archbishop of Canterbury, attended by several other prelates, waited on Henry. He reminded the King that his father, by pursuing similar counsels, had nearly forfeited the crown; assured him that the English would never submit to be trampled upon by strangers in their own country; and declared that he should conceive it his duty to excommunicate every individual, whoever he might be, that should oppose the reform of the government and the welfare of the nation. Henry was alarmed, and promised to give him an answer in a few weeks. A parliament of the barons was called, and Edmund renewed his remonstrance. The Poitevins were instantly dismissed, the insurgents restored to favor, and ministers appointed who possessed the confidence of the nation.

At the age of twenty-nine the King had married Eleanor, the daughter of Raymond, Count of Provence. The ceremony of her coronation, the offices of the barons, the order of the banquet, and the rejoicings of the people are minutely described by the historian, who, in the warmth of his admiration, declares that the whole world could not produce a more glorious and ravishing spectacle. Eleanor had been accompanied to England by her uncle William, Bishop-elect of Valence, who soon became the King's favorite, was admitted into the council, and assumed the ascendency in the administration. The barons took the first opportunity to remonstrate; but Henry mollified their anger by adding three of their number to the council, and, that he might be the more secure from their machinations, obtained from the Pope a legate to reside near his person. This was the cardinal Otho, who employed his influence to reconcile Henry with the most discontented of the barons. By his advice William returned to the Continent. He died in Italy, but the King, mindful of his interests, had previously procured his election to the see of Winchester, vacant by the death of Peter des Roches.

The next favorites were two other uncles of the Queen, Peter de Savoy, to whom Henry gave the honor of Richmond, and Boniface de Savoy, who, at the death of Edmund, was chosen archbishop of Canterbury. The natives renewed their complaints, and waited with impatience for the return of Richard, the King's brother, from Palestine; but that Prince was induced to espouse the cause of the foreigners, and to marry Sanchia, another of the daughters of Raymond. But now Isabella, the Queen-mother, dissatisfied that the family of Provence should monopolize the royal favor, sent over her children by her second husband, the Count de la Marche, to make their fortunes in England. Alice, her daughter, was married to the young Earl of Warenne; Guy, the eldest son, received some valuable presents and returned to France; William de Valence, with the order of knighthood, obtained an annuity and the honor of Hertford; and Aymar was sent to Oxford, preferred to several benefices, and at last made bishop of Winchester.

Associations were formed to redress the grievances of the nation: under the decent pretext of preventing the misapplication of the revenue, a demand was repeatedly made that the appointment of the officers of state should be vested in the great council; and at length the constitution was entirely overturned by the bold ambition of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester.

Simon was the younger of the two sons of the Count de Montfort, a name celebrated in the annals of religious warfare. By the resignation of Amauri, his brother, the constable of France, he had succeeded to the estates of his mother Amicia, the elder of the two sisters and coheiresses of the late Earl of Leicester: his subsequent marriage with Eleanor, the King's sister, had brought within his view the prospect of a crown; and his marked opposition to the extortions of the King and the pontiffs had secured to him, though a foreigner, the affection of the nobility, the clergy, and the people. Policy required that the King should not provoke, nor should oppress, so formidable a subject. But Henry did neither: he on some occasions employed the Earl in offices of trust and importance; on others, by a succession of petty affronts, irritated instead of subduing his spirit. Among the inhabitants of Guienne there were many whose wavering fidelity proved a subject of constant solicitude; and Simon had been appointed, by patent, governor of the province for five years, with the hope that his activity and resolution would crush the disaffected and secure the allegiance of the natives. They were to the earl years of continual exertion: his conduct necessarily begot enemies; and he was repeatedly accused to the King of peculation, tyranny, and cruelty. How far the charges were true it is impossible to determine; but his accusers were the Archbishop of Bordeaux and the chief of the Gascon nobility, who declared that, unless justice were done to their complaints, their countrymen would seek the protection of a different sovereign. When Simon appeared before his peers, he was accompanied by Richard, the King's brother, and the earls of Gloucester and Hereford, who had engaged to screen him from the royal resentment; and the King, perceiving that he could not procure the condemnation of the accused, vented his passion in intemperate language. In the course of the altercation the word "traitor" inadvertently fell from his lips. "Traitor!" exclaimed the earl; "if you were not a king, you should repent of that insult."

"I shall never repent of anything so much," replied Henry, "as that I allowed you to grow and fatten within my dominions." By the interposition of their common friends they were parted. Henry conferred the duchy and government of Guienne on his son Edward, but the earl returned to the province, nor would he yield up his patent without a considerable sum as a compensation for the remaining years of the grant. Fearing the King's enmity, he retired into France, and was afterward reconciled to him through the mediation of the Bishop of Lincoln.

Though Richard had frequently joined the barons in opposing his brother, he could never be induced to invade the just rights of the crown. He was as much distinguished by his economy as Henry was by his profusion; and the care with which he husbanded his income gave him the reputation of being the most opulent prince of Europe. Yet he allowed himself to be dazzled with the splendor of royalty, and incautiously sacrificed his fortune to his ambition. In the beginning of the year 1256 the archbishops of Cologne and Mainz, with the Elector Palatine, chose him at Frankfort king of the Romans; and a few weeks later the Archbishop of Triers, the King of Bohemia, the Duke of Saxony, and the Marquis of Brandenburg, the other four electors, gave their suffrages in favor of Alphonso, King of Castile. It was, however, in an evil hour for Henry that Richard departed for Germany. The discontented barons, no longer awed by his presence, associated to reform the State, under the guidance of the Earl of Leicester, high steward, the Earl of Hereford, high constable, the Earl Marshal, and the Earl of Gloucester. The circumstances of the times were favorable to their views. An unproductive harvest had been followed by a general scarcity, and the people were willing to attribute their misery, not to the inclemency of the seasons, but to the incapacity of their governors. Henry called a great council at Westminster, and on the third day the barons assembled in the hall in complete armor. When the King entered, they put aside their swords; but Henry, alarmed at their unusual appearance, exclaimed, "Am I then your prisoner?" "No, sire," replied Roger Bigod, "but by your partiality to foreigners, and your own prodigality, the realm is involved in misery. Wherefore we demand that the powers of government be delegated to a committee of barons and prelates, who may correct abuses and enact salutary laws." Some altercation ensued, and high words passed between the Earl of Leicester and William de Valence, one of the King's brothers. Henry, however, found it necessary to submit; and it was finally agreed that he should solicit the Pope to send a legate to England and modify the terms on which he had accepted the kingdom of Sicily; that he should give a commission to reform the State to twenty-four prelates and barons, of whom one-half had been already selected from his council, the other half should be named by the barons themselves in a parliament to be held at Oxford; and that, if he faithfully observed these conditions, measures should be taken to pay his debts, and to prosecute the claim of Edmund to the crown of the two Sicilies.

At the appointed day the great council, distinguished in our annals by the appellation of the "Mad Parliament," assembled at Oxford. The barons, to intimidate their opponents, were attended by their military tenants, and took an oath to stand faithfully by each other, and to treat as "a mortal enemy" every man who should abandon their cause. The committee of reform was appointed. Among the twelve selected by Henry were his nephew the son of Richard, two of his half-brothers, and the great officers of state; the leaders of the faction were included in the twelve named by the barons. Every member was sworn to reform the state of the realm, to the honor of God, the service of the King, and the benefit of the people; and to allow no consideration, "neither of gift nor promise, profit nor loss, love nor hatred nor fear," to influence him in the discharge of his duty. Each twelve then selected two of their opponents; and to the four thus selected was intrusted the charge of appointing fifteen persons to form the council of state. Having obtained the royal permission, they proceeded to make the choice with apparent impartiality. Both parties furnished an equal number; and at their head was placed Boniface, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who, if he were connected with the court from his relationship to the Queen, was also known to lean to the popular faction, through his jealousy of the superior influence of the King's half-brothers. In reality, however, these elections proved the declining influence of the Crown; for, while the chiefs of the reformers were named, Henry's principal friends, his nephew and his brothers, had been carefully excluded. In a short time the triumph of Leicester was complete. The justiciary, the chancellor, the treasurer, all the sheriffs, and the governors of the principal castles belonging to the King, twenty in number, were removed, and their places were supplied by the chiefs of the reformers, or the most devoted of their adherents. The new justiciary took an oath to administer justice to all persons, according to the ordinances of the committee; the chancellor not to put the great seal to any writ which had not the approbation of the King and the privy council, nor to any grant without the consent of the great council, nor to any instrument whatever which was not in conformity with the regulations of the committee; the governors of the castles to keep them faithfully for the use of the King, and to restore them to him or his heirs, and no others, on the receipt of an order from the council; and at the expiration of twelve years to surrender them loyally on the demand of the King. Having thus secured to themselves the sovereign authority, and divested Henry of the power of resistance, the committee began the work of reform by ordaining: 1. That four knights should be chosen by the freeholders of each county to ascertain and lay before the parliament the trespasses, excesses, and injuries committed within the county under the royal administration; 2. That a new high sheriff should be annually appointed for each county by the votes of the freeholders; 3. That all sheriffs, and the treasurer, chancellor, and justiciary should annually give in their accounts; 4. And that parliaments should meet thrice in the year, in the beginning of the months of February, June, and October. They were, however, careful that these assemblies should consist entirely of their own partisans. Under the pretext of exonerating the other members from the trouble and expense of such frequent journeys, twelve persons were appointed as representatives of the commonalty, that is, the whole body of earls, barons, and tenants of the Crown; and it was enacted that whatever these twelve should determine, in conjunction with the council of state, should be considered as the act of the whole body.

These innovations did not, however, pass without opposition. Henry, the son of the King of the Romans, Aymar, Guy and William, half-brothers to the King, and the Earl of Warenne, members of the committee, though they were unable to prevent, considerably retarded, the measures of the reformers, and nourished in the friends of the monarch a spirit of resistance which might ultimately prove fatal to the projects of Leicester and his associates. It was resolved to silence them by intimidation. They were required to swear obedience to the ordinances of the majority of the members; proposals were made to resume all grants of the crown, from which the three brothers derived their support; and several charges of extortion and trespass were made in the king's courts not only against them, but also against the fourth brother, Geoffrey de Valence. Fearing for their liberty or lives, they all retired secretly from Oxford, and fled to Wolvesham, a castle belonging to Aymar, as bishop-elect of Winchester. They were pursued and surrounded by the barons: their offer to take the oath of submission was now refused; and of the conditions proposed to them the four brothers accepted as the most eligible, to leave the kingdom, taking with them six thousand marks, and trusting the remainder of their treasures and the rents of their lands to the honor of their adversaries.

Their departure broke the spirit of the dissidents. John de Warenne and Prince Henry successively took the oath: even Edward, the King's eldest son, reluctantly followed their example, and was compelled to recall the grants which he had made to his uncles of revenues in Guienne, and to admit of four reformers as his council for the administration of that duchy. To secure their triumph a royal order was published that all the lieges should swear to observe the ordinances of the council; and a letter was written to the Pope in the name of the parliament, complaining of the King's brothers, soliciting the deposition of the Bishop of Winchester, and requesting the aid of a legate to coöperate with them in the important task of reforming the state of the kingdom.

In a short time Leicester was alarmed by the approach of a dangerous visitor, Richard, King of the Romans. That Prince had squandered away an immense mass of treasure in Germany, and was returning to replenish his coffers by raising money on his English estates. At St. Omer, to his surprise, he received a prohibition to land before he had taken an oath to observe the provisions of reform, and not to bring the King's brothers in his suite. His pride deemed the message an insult; but his necessities required the prosecution of his journey, and he gave a reluctant promise to comply as soon as he should receive the King's permission. At Canterbury Henry signified his commands, and Richard took the oath.

Henry had been for two years the mere shadow of a king. The acts of government, indeed, ran in his name; but the sovereign authority was exercised without control by the lords of the council; and obedience to the royal orders—when the King ventured to issue any orders—was severely punished as a crime against the safety of the State. But if he were a silent, he was not an inattentive, observer of the passing events. The discontent of the people did not escape his notice; and he saw with pleasure the intestine dissensions which daily undermined the power of the faction. The earls of Leicester and Gloucester pursued opposite interests and formed two opposite parties. Leicester, unwilling to behold the ascendency of his rival, retired into France; and Gloucester discovered an inclination to be reconciled to his sovereign. But to balance this advantage Prince Edward, who had formerly displayed so much spirit in vindicating the rights of the crown, joined the Earl of Leicester, their most dangerous enemy; and this unexpected connection awakened in the King's mind the suspicion of a design to depose him and place his son on the throne. In these dispositions of enmity, jealousy, and distrust the barons assembled in London to meet Henry in parliament. But each member was attended by a military guard; his lodgings were fortified to prevent a surprise; the apprehension of hostilities confined the citizens within their houses; and the concerns of trade with the usual intercourse of society were totally suspended. After many attempts, the good offices of the King of the Romans effected a specious but treacherous pacification; and the different leaders left the parliament friends in open show, but with the same feelings of animosity rankling in their breasts, and with the same projects for their own aggrandizement and the depression of their opponents.

At length Henry persuaded himself that the time had arrived when he might resume his authority. He unexpectedly entered the council, and in a tone of dignity reproached the members with their affected delays and their breach of trust. They had been established to reform the State, improve the revenue, and discharge his debts; but they had neglected these objects, and had labored only to enrich themselves and to perpetuate their own power. He should, therefore, no longer consider them as his council, but employ such other remedies as he thought proper. He immediately repaired to the Tower, which had lately been fortified; seized on the treasure in the mint; ordered the gates of London to be closed; compelled all the citizens above twelve years of age to swear fealty in their respective wardmotes; and by proclamation commanded the knights of the several counties to attend the next parliament in arms. The barons immediately assembled their retainers, and marched to the neighborhood of the capital; but each party, diffident of its strength, betrayed an unwillingness to begin hostilities; and it was unanimously agreed to postpone the discussion of their differences till the return of Prince Edward, who was in France displaying his prowess at a tournament. He returned in haste, and, to the astonishment of all who were not in the secret, embraced the interests of the barons.

Henry, however, persevered in his resolution. By repeated desertions the party of his enemies had been reduced to the two earls of Leicester and Gloucester, the grand justiciary, the Bishop of Worcester, and Hugh de Montfort, whose principal dependence was on the oath which the King and the nation had taken to observe the Provisions of Oxford. To this argument it was replied that the same authority which enacted the law was competent to repeal it; and that an oath which should deprive the parliament of such right was in its own nature unjust and consequently invalid. For greater security, however, the King applied to Pope Alexander, who by several bulls released both him and the nation from their oaths, on the principle that the Provisions of Oxford were injurious to the State, and therefore incompatible with their previous obligations. These bulls Henry published, appointed a new justiciary and chancellor, removed the officers of his household, revoked to himself the custody of the royal castles, named new sheriffs in the counties, and by proclamation announced that he had resumed the exercise of the royal authority. This was followed by another proclamation to refute the false reports circulated by the barons.

The King, now finding himself at liberty, was induced to visit Louis of France; and Leicester embraced the opportunity to return to England and reorganize the association which had so lately been dissolved. His hopes of success were founded on the pride and imprudence of Prince Edward, who, untaught by experience, had called around him a guard of foreigners, and intrusted to their leaders the custody of his castles. Such conduct not only awakened the jealousy of the barons, but alienated the affections of the royalists. Henry, at his return, aware of the designs of his enemies, ordered the citizens of London, the inhabitants of the Cinque Ports, and the principal barons, and afterward all freemen throughout the kingdom, to swear fealty not only to himself but, in the event of his death, to his eldest son the Prince Edward. To the second oath the Earl of Gloucester objected. He was immediately joined at Oxford by his associates; and in a few days the Earl of Leicester appeared at their head. With the royal banner displayed before them, they took Gloucester, Worcester, and Bridgenorth; ravaged without mercy the lands of the royalists, the foreigners, and the natives who refused to join their ranks, and, augmenting their numbers as they advanced, directed their march toward London. In London the aldermen and principal citizens were devoted to the King: the mayor and the populace openly declared for the barons. Henry was in possession of the Tower; and Edward, after taking by force one thousand marks out of the temple, hastened to throw himself into the castle of Windsor, the most magnificent palace, if we may believe a contemporary, then existing in Europe. The Queen attempted to follow her son by water; but the populace insulted her with the most opprobrious epithets, discharged volleys of filth into the royal barge, and prepared to sink it with large stones as it should pass beneath the bridge. The mayor at length took her under his protection and placed her in safety in the episcopal palace near St. Paul's.

The King of the Romans now appeared again on the scene in the quality of mediator. The negotiation lasted three weeks: but Henry was compelled to yield to the increasing power of his adversaries; and it was agreed that the royal castles should once more be intrusted to the custody of the barons, the foreigners be again banished, and the Provisions of Oxford be confirmed, subject to such alterations as should be deemed proper by a committee appointed for that purpose. Henry returned to his palace at Westminster; new officers of state were selected; and the King's concessions were notified to the conservators of the peace in the several counties.

The King now found himself sufficiently strong to take the field. He was disappointed in an attempt to obtain possession of Dover; but nearly succeeded in surprising the Earl of Leicester, who with a small body of forces had marched from Kenilworth to Southwark. Henry appeared on one side of the town, the Prince on the other; and the royalists had previously closed the gates of the city. So imminent was the danger that the Earl, who had determined not to yield, advised his companions to assume the cross, and to prepare themselves for death by the offices of religion. But the opportunity was lost by a strict adherence to the custom of the times. A herald was sent to require him to surrender; and in the mean while the populace, acquainted with the danger of their favorite, burst open the gates and introduced him into the city.

The power of the two parties was now more equally balanced, and their mutual apprehensions inclined them to listen to the pacific exhortations of the bishops. It was agreed to refer every subject of dispute to the arbitration of the King of France; an expedient which had been proposed the last year by Henry, but rejected by Leicester. Louis accepted the honorable office, and summoned the parties to appear before him at Amiens. The King attended in person; the earl, who was detained at home in consequence of a real or pretended fall from his horse, had sent his attorneys. Both parties solemnly swore to abide by the decision of the French monarch. Louis heard the allegations and arguments of each, consulted his court, and pronounced judgment in favor of Henry. He annulled the Provisions of Oxford as destructive of the rights of the crown and injurious to the interests of the nation; ordered the royal castles to be restored; gave to the King the authority to appoint all the officers of the state and of his household, and to call to his council whomsoever he thought proper, whether native or foreigner; reinstated him in the same condition in which he was before the meeting of the "Mad Parliament," and ordered that all offences committed by either party should be buried in oblivion. This award was soon afterward confirmed by Pope Urban; and the Archbishop of Canterbury received an order to excommunicate all who, in violation of their oaths, should refuse to submit to it.

The barons had already taken their resolution. The moment the decision was announced to them they declared that it was, on the face of it, contrary to truth and justice, and had been procured by the undue influence which the Queen of Louis, the sister-in-law to Henry, possessed over the mind of her husband. Hostilities immediately recommenced; and as every man of property was compelled to adhere to one of the two parties, the flames of civil war were lighted up in almost every part of the kingdom. In the North, and in Cornwall and Devon, the decided superiority of the royalists forced the friends of the barons to dissemble their real sentiments; the midland counties and the marches of Wales were pretty equally divided: but in the Cinque Ports, the metropolis, and the neighboring districts Montfort ruled without opposition. His partisan, Thomas Fitz-Thomas, had been intruded into the office of mayor of London; and a convention for their mutual security had been signed by that officer and the commonalty of the city on the one part, and the earls of Leicester, Gloucester, and Derby, Hugh le Despenser, the grand justiciary, and twelve barons on the other. In the different wardmotes every male inhabitant above twelve years of age was sworn a member of the association: a constable and marshal of the city were appointed; and orders were given that at the sound of the great bell at St. Paul's all should assemble in arms and obey the authority of these officers. The efficacy of the new arrangements was immediately put to the test. Despenser, the justiciary, came from the Tower, put himself at the head of the associated bands, and conducted them to destroy the two palaces of the King of the Romans, at Isleworth and Westminster, and the houses of the nobility and citizens known or suspected to be attached to the royal cause. The justices of the king's bench and the barons of the exchequer were thrown into prison; the moneys belonging to foreign merchants and bankers, which for security had been deposited in the churches, were carried to the Tower; and the Jews, to the number of five hundred, men, women, and children, were conducted to a place of confinement. Out of these, Despenser selected a few of the more wealthy, that he might enrich himself by their ransom; the rest he abandoned to the cruelty and rapacity of the populace, who, after stripping them of their clothes, massacred them all in cold blood. Cock ben Abraham, who was considered the most opulent individual in the kingdom, had been killed in his own house by John Fitz-John, one of the barons. The murderer at first appropriated to himself the treasure of his victim; but he afterward thought it more prudent to secure a moiety, by making a present of the remainder to Leicester.[61]

Henry had summoned the tenants of the crown to meet him at Oxford; and being joined by Comyn, Bruce, and Baliol, the lords of the Scottish borders, unfurled his standard and placed himself at the head of the army. His first attempts were successful. Northampton, Leicester, and Nottingham, three of the strongest fortresses in the possession of the barons, were successively reduced; and among the captives were reckoned Simon the eldest of Leicester's sons, fourteen other bannerets, forty knights, and a numerous body of esquires. From Nottingham he was recalled into Kent by the danger of his nephew Henry, besieged in the castle of Rochester, At his approach the enemy, who had taken and pillaged the city, retired with precipitation; and the King, after an ineffectual attempt to secure the coöperation of the Cinque Ports, fixed his head-quarters in the town of Lewes.

Leicester, having added a body of fifteen thousand citizens to his army, marched from London, with a resolution to bring the controversy to an issue. From Fletching he despatched a letter to Henry, protesting that neither he nor his associates had taken up arms against the King, but against the evil counsellors who enjoyed and abused the confidence of their sovereign. Henry returned a public defiance, which was accompanied by a message from Prince Edward and the King of the Romans, declaring in the name of the royal barons that the charge was false; pronouncing Montfort and his adherents perjured; and daring the earls of Leicester and Derby to appear in the King's court and prove their assertion by single combat. After the observation of these forms, which the feudal connection between the lord and the vassal was supposed to make necessary, Montfort prepared for the battle. It was the peculiar talent of this leader to persuade his followers that the cause in which they fought was the cause of heaven. He represented to them that their objects were liberty and justice; and that their opponent was a prince whose repeated violation of the most solemn oaths had released them from their allegiance, and had entailed on his head the curse of the Almighty. He ordered each man to fasten a white cross on the breast and shoulder, and to devote the next evening to the duties of religion. Early in the morning he marched forward, and, leaving his baggage and standard on the summit of a hill, about two miles from Lewes, descended into the plain. Henry's foragers had discovered and announced his approach; and the royalists in three divisions silently awaited the attack. Leicester, having called before the ranks the Earl of Gloucester and several other young noblemen, bade them kneel down, and conferred on them the order of knighthood; and the Londoners, who impatiently expected the conclusion of the ceremony, rushed with loud shouts on the enemy. They were received by Prince Edward, broken in a few minutes, and driven back as far as the standard. Had the Prince returned from the pursuit, and fallen on the rear of the confederates, the victory might have been secured. But he remembered the insults which the citizens had offered to his mother, and the excesses of which they had lately been guilty; the suggestions of prudence were less powerful than the thirst of revenge; and the pursuit of the fugitives carried him with the flower of the army four miles from the field of battle. More than three thousand Londoners were slain; but the advantage was dearly purchased by the loss of the victory and the ruin of the royal cause. Leicester, who viewed with pleasure the thoughtless impetuosity of the Prince, fell with the remainder of his forces on Henry and his brother. A body of Scots, who fought on foot, was cut to pieces. Their leaders, John Comyn and Robert de Bruce,[62] were made prisoners: the same fate befell the King of the Romans; and the combat was feebly maintained by the exertions and example of Philip Basset, who fought near the person of Henry. But when that nobleman sank through loss of blood, his retainers fled; the King, whose horse had been killed under him, surrendered; and Leicester conducted the royal captive into the priory. The fugitives, as soon as they learned the fate of their sovereign, came back to share his captivity, and voluntarily yielded themselves to their enemies.

When Edward returned from the pursuit, both armies had disappeared. He traversed the field, which was strewed with the bodies of the slain and the wounded, anxiously, but fruitlessly, inquiring after his father. As he approached Lewes, the barons came out, and, on the first shock, the earl Warenne, with the King's half-brothers and seven hundred horse, fled to Pevensey, whence they sailed to the Continent. Edward, with a strong body of veterans from the Welsh marches, rode along the wall to the castle, and understanding that his father was a captive in the priory, obtained permission to visit him from Leicester. An unsuccessful attempt made by the barons against the castle revived his hopes; he opened a negotiation with the chiefs of the party; and the next morning was concluded the treaty known by the name of "the Mise of Lewes." By this it was agreed that all prisoners taken during the war should be set at liberty; that the princes Edward and Henry should be kept as hostages for the peaceable conduct of their fathers, the King of England and the King of the Romans; and that all matters which could not be amicably adjusted in the next parliament should be referred to the decision of certain arbitrators. In the battle of Lewes about five thousand men are said to have fallen on each side.

By this victory the royal authority was laid prostrate at the feet of Leicester. The scheme of arbitration was merely a blind to deceive the vulgar: his past conduct had proved how little he was to be bound by such decisions; and the referees themselves, aware of the probable result, refused to accept the office. The great object of his policy was the preservation of the ascendency which he had acquired. To Henry, who was now the convenient tool of his ambition, he paid every exterior demonstration of respect, but never suffered him to depart out of his custody; and, without consulting him, affixed his seal to every order which was issued for the degradation of the royal authority. The King of the Romans, a more resolute and dangerous enemy, instead of being restored to liberty, was closely confined in the castle of Wallingford, and afterward in that of Kenilworth; and the two princes were confided to the custody of the new governor of Dover, with instructions to allow of no indulgence which might facilitate their escape. Instead of removing the sheriffs, a creature of Leicester was sent to each county with the title of conservator of the peace. This officer was empowered to arrest all persons who should carry arms without the King's special license; to prevent all breaches of the peace; to employ the posse comitatus to apprehend offenders; and to cause four knights to be chosen as the representatives of the county in the next parliament.

In that assembly a new form of government was established, to last, unless it were dissolved by mutual consent, till the compromise of Lewes had been carried into full execution, not only in the reign of Henry, but also of Edward, the heir-apparent. This form had been devised by the heads of the faction to conceal their real views from the people; and was so contrived that they retained in their own hands the sovereign authority, while to the superficial observer they seemed to have resigned it to the King and his council. It was enacted that Henry should delegate the power of choosing his counsellors to a committee of three persons, whose proceedings should be valid, provided they were attested by the signatures of two of the number. The King immediately issued a writ to the Earl of Leicester, the Earl of Gloucester, and the Bishop of Chichester, authorizing them to appoint in his name a council of nine members; nor were they slow in selecting for that purpose the most devoted of their adherents.

The powers given to this council were most extensive, and to be exercised without control whenever the parliament was not sitting. Besides the usual authority it possessed the appointment of all the officers of state, of all the officers of the household, and of all the governors of the royal castles. Three were ordered to be in constant attendance on the King's person; all were to be summoned on matters of great importance; and a majority of two-thirds was required to give a sanction to their decisions. Hitherto the original committee seemed to have been forgotten; but it was contrived that when the council was so divided that the consent of two-thirds could not be obtained, the question should be reserved for the determination of the three electors, an artifice by which, under the modest pretence of providing against dissension, they invested themselves with the sovereign authority. By additional enactments it was provided that no foreigner, though he might go or come, or reside peaceably, should be employed under the government; that past offences should be mutually forgiven; that the two charters, the provisions made the last year, in consequence of the Statutes of Oxford, and all the ancient and laudable customs of the realm, should be inviolably observed; and that three prelates should be appointed to reform the state of the Church, and to procure for the clergy, with the aid of the civil power if necessary, full compensation for their losses during the late troubles.

The earl was now in reality possessed of more extensive authority than Henry had ever enjoyed; but he soon discovered that to retain the object of his ambition would require the exertion of all his powers. The cause of the captive monarch was ardently espoused by foreign nations and by the sovereign pontiff. Adventurers from every province of France crowded to the royal standard which Queen Eleanor had erected at Damme in Flanders; and a numerous fleet assembled in the harbor to transport to England the thousands who had sworn to humble the pride of a disloyal and aspiring subject. To oppose them Leicester had summoned to the camp on Barham downs, not only the King's military tenants, but the whole force of the nation,[63] and, taking on himself the command of the fleet, cruised in the narrow seas to intercept the invaders. But the winds seemed to be leagued with the earl; the Queen's army was detained for several weeks in the vicinity of Damme; and the mercenaries gradually disbanded themselves, when the short period for which they had contracted to serve was expired. At the same time the Pontiff had commissioned Guido, Cardinal Bishop of Sabina, to proceed to England, and take Henry under the papal protection; but, deterred by the hint of a conspiracy against his life from crossing the sea, he excommunicated the barons unless before the 1st of September they should restore the King to all his rights, and at the same time summoned four of the English prelates to appear before him at Boulogne. After much tergiversation these obeyed, but appealed from his jurisdiction to the equity of the Pope or a general council; and though they consented to bring back a sentence of excommunication against the King's enemies, they willingly suffered it to be taken from them by the officers at Dover. Their appeal was approved by the convocation of the clergy, and Guido, after publishing the excommunication himself at Hesdin, returned to Rome, where he was elevated to the chair of St. Peter by the name of Clement IV.

During the summer Leicester had been harassed with repeated solicitations for the release of the two princes, Edward and Henry. In the winter he pretended to acquiesce, and convoked a parliament to meet after Christmas for the avowed purpose of giving the sanction of the legislature to so important a measure. But the extraordinary manner in which this assembly was constituted provoked a suspicion that his real object was to consolidate and perpetuate his own power. Only those prelates and barons were summoned who were known to be attached to his party; and the deficiency was supplied by representatives from the counties, cities, and boroughs who, as they had been chosen through his influence, proved the obsequious ministers of his will. Several weeks were consumed in private negotiation with Henry and his son. Leicester was aware of the untamable spirit of Edward, nor would he consent that the Prince should exchange his confinement for the company of his father on any other terms than that he should still remain under the inspection of his keepers, and evince his gratitude for the indulgence by ceding to the earl and his heirs the county of Chester, the castle of Pec, and the town of Newcastle-under-Lyne; in exchange for which he should receive other lands of the same annual value. At length the terms were settled, and confirmed by the parliament, with every additional security which the jealousy of the faction could devise. It was enacted "by common consent of the King, his son Edward, the prelates, earls, barons, and commonalty of the realm," that the charters and the ordinances should be inviolably observed; that neither the King nor the Prince should aggrieve the earl or his associates for their past conduct; that if they did, their vassals and subjects should be released from the obligation of fealty till full redress were obtained, and their abettors should be punished with exile and forfeiture; that the barons, whom the King had defied before the battle of Lewes, should renew their homage and fealty; but on the express condition that such homage and fealty should be no longer binding if he violated his promise; that the command of the royal castles should be taken from suspected persons and intrusted to officers of approved loyalty; that the Prince should not leave the realm for three years, under pain of disherison; that he should not choose his advisers and companions himself, but receive them from the council of state; that with his father's consent he should put into the hands of the barons for five years, five royal castles, as securities for his behavior, and should deliver to Leicester the town and castle of Bristol in pledge till a full and legal transfer should be made of Chester, Pec, and Newcastle; that both Henry and Edward should swear to observe all these articles, and not to solicit any absolution from their oath, nor make any use of such absolution, if it were to be pronounced by the Pope; and lastly, that they should cause the present agreement "To be confirmed in the best manner that might be devised, in Ireland, in Gascony, by the King of Scotland, and in all lands subject to the King of England."

These were terms which nothing but necessity could have extorted; and to add to their stability, they were for the most part embodied in the form of a writ, signed by the King, and sent to the sheriffs, with orders to publish them in the full court of each county twice every year.

It is generally supposed that the project of summoning to parliament the representatives of the counties, cities, and boroughs grew out of that system of policy which the earl had long pursued, of flattering the prejudices, and attaching to himself the affections, of the people. Nor had his efforts proved unsuccessful. Men in the higher ranks of life might penetrate behind the veil, with which he sought to conceal his ambition; but by the nation at large he was considered as the reformer of abuses, the protector of the oppressed, and the savior of his country. Even some of the clergy, and several religious bodies, soured by papal and regal exactions, gave him credit for the truth of his pretensions, and preachers were found who, though he had been excommunicated by the legate, made his virtues the theme of their sermons, and exhorted their hearers to stand by the patron of the poor and the avenger of the Church.[64] Within the kingdom no man dared to dispute his authority; it was only at the extremities that a faint show of resistance was maintained. The distant disobedience of a few chiefs on the Scottish borders he despised or dissembled; and the open hostilities of the lords in the Welsh marches were crushed in their birth by his promptitude and decision. He compelled Roger de Mortimer and his associates to throw down their arms, surrender their castles, and abide the judgment of their peers, by whom they were condemned to expatriate themselves, some for twelve months, others for three years, and to reside during their exile in Ireland. They pretended to submit, but lingered on the sea-coast, and amid the mountains of Wales, in the hope that some new event might recall them to draw the sword and fight again in the cause of their sovereign.

It had cost Leicester some years and much labor to climb to the summit of his greatness; his descent was rapid beyond the calculation of the most sanguine among his enemies. He had hitherto enjoyed the coöperation of the powerful earls of Derby and Gloucester; but, if he was too ambitious to admit of an equal, they were too proud to bow to a fellow-subject. Frequent altercations betrayed their secret jealousies; and the sudden arrest and imprisonment of Derby, on a charge of corresponding with the royalists, warned Gloucester of his own danger. He would have shared the captivity of his friends had he assisted at the great tournament at Northampton; but by his absence he disconcerted the plans of his enemy, and, recalling Mortimer and the exiles, unfurled the royal standard in the midst of his tenantry. Leicester immediately hastened to Hereford with the King, the Prince, and a numerous body of knights. To prevent the effusion of blood their common friends intervened; a reconciliation was effected, and four umpires undertook the task of reconciling their differences. But under this appearance of friendship all was hollow and insincere. Leicester sought to circumvent his adversary; Gloucester waited the result of a plan for the liberation of Edward, which had been concerted through the means of Thomas de Clare, brother to the Earl, and companion to the Prince.

One day after dinner Edward obtained permission to take the air without the walls of Hereford, attended by his keepers. They rode to Widmarsh. A proposal was made to try the speed of their horses; several matches were made and run; and the afternoon was passed in a succession of amusements. A little before sunset there appeared on Tulington hill a person riding on a gray charger and waving his bonnet. The Prince, who knew the signal, bidding adieu to the company, instantly galloped off with his friend, another knight, and four esquires. The keepers followed; but in a short time Mortimer, with a band of armed men, issued from a wood, received Edward with acclamations of joy, and conducted him to his castle of Wigmore. The next day the Prince met the Earl of Gloucester at Ludlow. They mutually pledged themselves to forget all former injuries, and to unite their efforts for the liberation of the King, on condition that he should govern according to the laws, and should exclude foreigners from his councils.

When Leicester received the news of Edward's escape, he conceived that the prince was gone to join the Earl Warenne, and William de Valence, who a few days before had landed with one hundred and twenty knights on the coast of Pembrokeshire. Ignorant, however, of his real motions, he dared not pursue him; but issued writs in the King's name, ordering the military tenants of the Crown to assemble at first in Worcester, and afterward in Gloucester. To these he added circular letters to the bishops, accusing Edward of rebellion, and requesting a sentence of excommunication against all disturbers of the peace "from the highest to the lowest." The royalists had wisely determined to cut off his communication with the rest of the kingdom by securing to themselves the command of the Severn. Worcester readily opened its gates; Gloucester was taken by storm; and the castle, after a siege of two weeks, was surrendered on condition that the garrison should not serve again during the next forty days. Every bridge was now broken down; the small craft on the river was sunk or destroyed; and the fords were either deepened or watched by powerful detachments. Leicester, caught as it were in the toils, remained inactive at Hereford; but he awaited the arrival of the troops whom he had summoned, and concluded with Llewellyn of Wales a treaty of alliance, by which, for the pretended payment of thirty thousand marks, Henry was made to resign all the advantages which he and his predecessors had wrested from the princes of that country. At last, reinforced by a party of Welshmen, the Earl marched to the south, took and destroyed the castle of Monmouth, and fixed his head-quarters at Newport. Here he expected a fleet of transports to convey him to Bristol; but the galleys of the Earl of Gloucester blockaded the mouth of the Avon; and Edward, with the bravest of his knights, made an attempt on the town of Newport itself. The part which lay on the left bank of the Usk was carried; but the destruction of the bridge arrested the progress of the victors, and Leicester, with his dispirited followers, escaped into Wales.

Misfortune now pressed on misfortune; and the last anchor of his hope was broken by the defeat of his son Simon of Montfort. That young nobleman was employed in the siege of Pevensey, on the coast of Sussex, when he received the King's writ to repair to Worcester. On his march he sacked the city of Winchester, the gates of which had been shut against him, passed peaceably through Oxford, and reached the castle of Kenilworth, the principal residence of his family. Here he remained for some days in heedless security, awaiting the orders of his father. Margot, a woman who in male attire performed the office of a spy, informed the Prince that Simon lay in the priory, and his followers in the neighboring farmhouses. Edward immediately formed the design of surprising them in their beds; and marching from Worcester in the evening, arrived at Kenilworth about sunrise the next morning. Twelve bannerets with all their followers were made prisoners; and their horses and treasures repaid the industry of the captors. Simon alone with his pages escaped naked into the castle.

Leicester on the same day had crossed the Severn by a ford, and halted at Kempsey, about three miles from Worcester. Happy to find himself at last on the left bank of the river, and ignorant of the fate of his son and the motions of the enemy, he proceeded to Evesham, with the intention of continuing his march the next morning for Kenilworth. The Prince had returned with his prisoners to Worcester, but left the city in the evening, and, to mask his real design, took the road which leads to Bridgenorth. He passed the river near Clains, and, wheeling to the right, arrived before sunrise in the neighborhood of Evesham. He took his station on the summit of a hill in the direction of Kenilworth; two other divisions, under the Earl of Gloucester and Roger de Mortimer, occupied the remaining roads. As the royalists bore the banners of their captives, they were taken by the enemy for the army of Simon de Montfort. But the mistake was soon discovered. Leicester, from an eminence, surveyed their numbers and disposition, and was heard to exclaim, "The Lord have mercy on our souls, for our bodies are Prince Edward's." According to his custom he spent some time in prayer, and received the sacrament. His first object was to force his way through the division on the hill. Foiled in this attempt, and in danger of being surrounded, he ordered his men to form a circle, and oppose on all sides the pressure of the enemy. For a while the courage of despair proved a match for the superiority of numbers. The old King, who had been compelled to appear in the ranks, was slightly wounded, and as he fell from his horse would probably have been killed had he not cried out to his antagonist, "Hold, fellow! I am Harry of Winchester." The Prince knew the voice of his father, sprang to his rescue, and conducted him to a place of safety. During his absence Leicester's horse was killed under him; and, as he fought on foot, he asked if they gave quarter. A voice replied, "There is no quarter for traitors." Henry de Montfort, his eldest son, who would not leave his side, fell at his feet. His dead body was soon covered by that of the father. The royalists obtained a complete but sanguinary victory. Of Leicester's partisans all the barons and knights were slain, with the exception of about ten, who were afterward found breathing, and were cured of their wounds. The foot soldiers of the royal army—so we are told to save the honor of the leaders—offered to the body of the earl every indignity. His mangled remains were afterward collected by the King's orders and buried in the church of the abbey.

By this victory the sceptre was replaced in the hands of Henry. With their leader, the hopes of the barons had been extinguished: they spontaneously set at liberty the prisoners who had been detained since the battle of Lewes, and anxiously awaited the determination of the Parliament, which had been summoned to meet at Winchester. In that assembly it was enacted that all grants and patents issued under the King's seal during the time of his captivity should be revoked; that the citizens of London, for their obstinacy and excesses, should forfeit their charter; that the Countess of Leicester and her family should quit the kingdom; and that the estates of all who had adhered to the late earl should be confiscated. The rigor of the last article was afterward softened by a declaration, in which the King granted a free pardon to those who could show that their conduct had not been voluntary, but the effect of compulsion. These measures, however, were not calculated to restore the public tranquillity. The sufferers, prompted by revenge, or compelled by want, had again recourse to the sword; the mountains, forests, and morasses furnished them with places of retreat; and the flames of predatory warfare were kindled in most parts of the kingdom. To reduce these partial but successive insurrections occupied Prince Edward the greater part of two years. He first compelled Simon de Montfort and his associates, who had sought an asylum in the Isle of Axholm, to submit to the award which should be given by himself and the King of the Romans. He next led his forces against the men of the Cinque Ports, who had long been distinguished by their attachment to Leicester, and who since his fall had, by their piracies, interrupted the commerce of the narrow seas, and made prizes of all ships belonging to the King's subjects. The capture of Winchelsea, which was carried by storm, taught them to respect the authority of the sovereign; and their power by sea made the Prince desirous to recall them to their duty and attach them to the crown. They swore fealty to Henry; and in return obtained a full pardon and the confirmation of their privileges. From the Cinque Ports Edward proceeded to Hampshire, which, with Berkshire and the neighboring counties, was ravaged by numerous banditti, under the command of Adam Gordon, the most athletic man of the age. They were surprised in Alton Wood, in Buckinghamshire. The Prince engaged in single combat with their leader, wounded and unhorsed him, and then, in reward of his valor, granted him his pardon. Still the garrison of Kenilworth continued to brave the royal power, and even added contumely to their disobedience. Having in one of their excursions taken a king's messenger, they cut off one of his hands, and sent him back with an insolent message to Henry. To subdue these obstinate rebels it was necessary to summon the chivalry of the kingdom; but the strength of the place defied all the efforts of the assailants; and the obstinacy of Hastings the governor refused for six months every offer which was made to him in the name of his sovereign.

There were many, even among the royalists, who disapproved of the indiscriminate severity exercised by the parliament at Winchester; and a possibility was suggested of granting indulgence to the sufferers, and at the same time satisfying those who had profited by their forfeitures. With this view a committee was appointed of twelve prelates and barons, whose award was confirmed by the King in parliament, and called the Dictum de Kenilworth. They divided the delinquents into three classes. In the first were the Earl of Derby, Hugh de Hastings, who had earned his preëminence by his superior ferocity, and the persons who had so insolently mutilated the King's messenger. The second comprised all who on different occasions had drawn the sword against their sovereign; and in the third were numbered those who, though they had not fought under the banner, had accepted office under the authority, of Leicester. To all was given the option of redeeming their estates by the payment to the actual possessors of certain sums of money, to the amount of seven years' value by delinquents of the first class, of five by those of the second, and of two years or one year by those of the third. By many the boon was accepted with gratitude: it was scornfully refused by the garrison of the castle of Kenilworth and by the outlaws who had fled to the Isle of Ely. The obstinacy of the former was subdued by famine; and they obtained from the clemency of the King the grant of their lives, limbs, and apparel. The latter, relying on the strength of their asylum, gloried in their rebellion, and occasionally ravaged the neighboring country. Their impunity was, however, owing to the perfidy of the Earl of Gloucester, who, without the talents, aspired to the fame and preëminence, of his deceased rival. He expressed his disapprobation of the award; the factious inhabitants of London chose him for their leader; and his presumption was nourished by the daily accession of outlaws from different parts of the country. Henry summoned his friends to the siege of the capital; and the Earl, when he beheld from the walls the royal army, and reflected on the consequences of a defeat, condemned his own temerity, accepted the mediation of the King of the Romans, and on the condition of receiving a full pardon, gladly returned to his duty, leaving at the same time the citizens to the good pleasure of the King. His submission drew after it the submission of the other insurgents. If Llewellyn remained in arms, it was only with the hope of extorting more favorable terms. The title of Prince of Wales with a right to the homage of the Welsh chieftains satisfied his ambition; and he consented to swear fealty to Henry, and to pay him the sum of twenty-five thousand marks. The restoration of tranquillity allowed the King to direct his attention to the improvement of his people. He condescended to profit by the labors of his adversaries; and some of the most useful among the provisions of the barons were with other laws enacted by legitimate authority in a parliament at Marlborough. To crown this important work, and to extinguish, if it were possible, the very embers of discontent, the clergy were brought forward with a grant of the twentieth of their revenues, as a fund which might enable those who had been prevented by poverty to redeem their estates according to the decision of the arbitrators at Kenilworth. The outlaws in the Isle of Ely were also reduced. The King's poverty had disabled him from undertaking offensive measures against them: but a grant of the tenth part of the church revenues for three years, which he had obtained from the Pope, infused new vigor into his councils; bridges were thrown over the rivers; roads were constructed across the marshes; and the rebels returned to their obedience on condition that they should enjoy the benefit of the Dictum of Kenilworth, which they had so contemptuously and obstinately refused.

LOUIS IX LEADS THE LAST CRUSADE

A.D. 1270

JOSEPH FRANÇOIS MICHAUD

Louis IX, King of France, 1226-1270, was at once a monarch of great ability and a man of intense religious spirit. Naturally, in such a time as that of his reign, a man like Louis would be a crusader. His first expedition—called the Seventh Crusade, 1248-1254—was directed against Egypt. He captured Damietta in 1249 and pushed into the interior, but was defeated by the Egyptian Sultan and taken prisoner with his entire army. He was liberated on the surrender of Damietta and the payment of a large ransom, and in 1254 he returned to France.

The state of Europe meanwhile had become unfavorable to further prosecution of the crusades, and Louis was the only monarch who longer took a serious interest in the fate of the Christian colonies of Asia. He also wished to avenge the honor of the French arms in Egypt, and so at length he planned a new expedition against the Moslems in that country. But he long kept this purpose a secret "between God and himself." Louis consulted Pope Clement IV, who at first tried to discourage the perilous enterprise; but finally the Pontiff gave his approval, and while admitting no others as yet into his designs, Louis quietly made preparation and awaited the favorable hour.

At last, the great Parliament of France being assembled in the hall of the Louvre, the King entered, bearing in his hand the crown of thorns of Christ. At sight of this, the whole assembly became aware of the monarch's intentions, which he now fully made known, exhorting all who heard him to take the cross. A sad surprise fell upon the reluctant parliament; but Louis was strongly seconded by the Pope's legate, and many of the prelates, nobles, and knights received the cross.

Notwithstanding the deep regret which spread among his people, who felt the need of their sovereign's presence for keeping peace and order in the kingdom, and also feared for his own safety—his health being greatly impaired—there was profound respect for the motives of Louis and general acquiescence in his determination. Among many this resignation gave place to zealous devotion, and "the warlike nobility of the kingdom only thought of following their King in an expedition which was already looked upon as unfortunate." Final preparations were accordingly made for Louis' undertaking.

While all France was engaged in preparing for the expedition beyond the seas, the crusade was preached in the other countries of Europe. A council was held at Northampton, in England, in which Ottobon, the Pope's legate, exhorted the faithful to arm themselves to save the little that remained of the kingdom of Jerusalem; and Prince Edward took the cross, to discharge the vow that his father, Henry III, had made when the news reached Europe of the captivity of Louis IX in Egypt. After the example of Edward, his brother, Prince Edmund, with the earls of Pembroke and Warwick, and many knights and barons, agreed to take arms against the infidels. The same zeal for the deliverance of the holy places was manifested in Scotland, when John Baliol and several nobles enrolled themselves under the banners of the cross.

Cataloni and Castile furnished a great number of crusaders; the King of Portugal, and James, King of Aragon, took the cross. Doña Sancha, one of the daughters of the Aragonese prince, had made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and had died in the hospital of St. John, after devoting many years to the service of pilgrims and the sick. James had several times conquered the Moors, but neither his exploits against the infidels nor the remembrance of a daughter who had fallen a martyr to Christian charity could sustain his piety against the attacks of his earthly passions, and his shameful connection with Berengaria scandalized Christendom.

The Pope, to whom he communicated his design of going to the Holy Land, replied that Jesus Christ could not accept the services of a prince who crucified him every day by his sins. The King of Aragon, by a strange combination of opposite sentiments, would neither renounce Berengaria nor give up his project of going to fight against the infidels in the East. He renewed his oath in a great assembly at Toledo, at which the ambassadors of the Khan of Tartary and of the King of Armenia were present. We read, in a Spanish dissertation upon the crusades, that Alfonso the Wise, who was not able to go to the East himself, furnished the King of Aragon with a hundred men and a hundred thousand marvedis in gold; the Order of St. James, and other orders of knighthood, who had often accompanied the conqueror of the Moors in his battles, supplied him also with men and money. The city of Barcelona offered him eighty thousand Barcelonese sols, and Majorca fifty thousand silver sols, with two equipped vessels. The fleet, composed of thirty large ships, and a great number of smaller craft, in which were embarked eight hundred men-at-arms and two thousand foot soldiers, set out from Barcelona on the 4th of September, 1268. When they arrived off Majorca, the fleet was dispersed by a tempest; one part of the vessels gained the coasts of Asia, another took shelter in the ports of Sardinia, the vessel that the King of Arragon was on board of was cast upon the coast of Languedoc.

The arrival at Ptolemais of the Aragonese crusaders, commanded by a natural son of James, restored some hopes to the Franks of Palestine. An envoy from the King of Aragon, according to the oriental chronicles, repaired to the Khan of the Tartars, to announce to him that the Spanish monarch would soon arrive with his army. But whether he was detained by the charms of Berengaria, or whether the tempest that dispersed his fleet made him believe that heaven was averse to his pilgrimage, James did not arrive. His departure, in which he appeared to despise the counsels of the holy see, had been severely censured; and his return, which was attributed to his disgraceful passion, met with an equal share of blame. Murmurs likewise arose against the King of Portugal, who had levied the tenths, but did not leave his kingdom.

All those who in Europe took an interest in the crusade, had, at this time, their eyes directed toward the kingdom of Naples, where Charles of Anjou was making great preparations to accompany his brother into the East; but this kingdom, recently conquered, was doomed again to be the theatre of a war kindled by vengeance and ambition. There fell out in the states of Naples and Sicily, which had so often changed masters, that which almost always takes place after a revolution: deceived hopes were changed into hatreds; the excesses inseparable from a conquest, the presence of an army proud of its victories, with the too violent government of Charles, animated the people against their new King.

Clement IV thought it his duty to give a timely and salutary warning. "Your kingdom," he wrote to him, "at first exhausted by the agents of your authority, is now torn by your enemies; thus the caterpillar destroys what has escaped the grasshopper. The kingdom of Sicily and Naples has not been wanting in men to desolate it; where now are they that will defend it?" This letter of the Pope's announced storms ready to break forth. Many of those who had called Charles to the throne regretted the house of Swabia, and directed their new hopes toward Italy, strengthening Conradin, heir of Frederick and of Conrad. This young Prince quitted Germany with an army and advanced toward Italy, strengthening himself in his march with the party of the Ghibellines, and with all those whom the domination of Charles had irritated. All Italy was in flames, and the Pope, Charles' protector, retired to Viterbo, had no defence to afford him, except only the thunders of the Church.

Charles of Anjou, however, now assembled his troops, and marched out to meet his rival. The two armies met in the plain of St. Valentine, near Aquila; the army of Conradin was cut to pieces, and the young Prince fell into the power of the conqueror. Posterity cannot pardon Charles for having abused his victory here so far as to condemn and decapitate his disarmed and vanquished enemy. After this execution, Sicily and the country of Naples were given up to all the furies of a jealous, suspicious tyranny, for violence produces violence, and great political crimes never come alone. It was thus that Charles got ready for the crusade; but, on the other hand, Providence was preparing terrible catastrophes for him. "So true it is," says a historian, "that God as often gives kingdoms to punish those he elevates as to chastise those whom he brings low."

While these bloody scenes were passing in Italy, Louis IX was following up the establishment of public peace and his darling object, the crusade, at the same time. The holy monarch did not forget that the surest manner of softening the evils of war, as well as of his absence, was to make good laws; he therefore issued several ordinances, and each of these ordinances was a monument of his justice. The most celebrated of all is the Pragmatic Sanction, which Bossuet called the firmest support of Gallican liberties. He also employed himself in elevating that monument of legislation which illustrated his reign and which became a light for following ages.

The Count of Poictiers, who was to accompany his brother, was in the mean time engaged in pacifying his provinces, and established many regulations for maintaining public order. He, above everything, endeavored to abolish slavery; having for a maxim "that men are born free, and it is always wise to bring back things to their origin." This good prince drew upon himself the benedictions of his people; and the love of his vassals assured the duration of the laws he made.

We have said that Prince Edward, son of Henry III, had taken the oath to combat the infidels. He had recently displayed a brilliant valor in the civil war that had so long desolated England; and the deliverance of his father and the pacification of the kingdom had been the reward of his exploits. It was his esteem for the character of Louis IX, more than the spirit of devotion, that induced him to set out for the East. The King of France, who himself exhorted him to take the cross, lent him seventy livres tournois for the preparations for his voyage. Edward was to follow Louis as his vassal, and to conduct under his banners the English crusaders, united with those of Guienne. Gaston de Béarn, to whom the French monarch advanced the sum of twenty-five thousand livres, prepared to follow Prince Edward to the Holy Land.

The period fixed upon for the departure of the expedition was drawing near. By order of the legate, the curés in every parish had taken the names of the crusaders, in order to oblige them to wear the cross publicly, and all had notice to hold themselves in readiness to embark in the month of May, 1270. Louis confided the administration of his kingdom, during his absence, to Matthew, Abbot of St. Denis, and to Simon, Sieur de Nesle; he wrote to all the nobles who were to follow him into the Holy Land, to recommend them to assemble their knights and men-at-arms. As religious enthusiasm was not sufficiently strong to make men forget their worldly interests, many nobles who had taken the cross entertained great fears of being ruined by the holy war, and most of them hesitated to set out. Louis undertook to pay all the expenses of their voyage, and to maintain them at his own cost during the war—a thing that had not been done in the crusades of Louis VII or Philip Augustus, in which the ardor of the crusaders did not allow them to give a thought to their fortunes or to exercise so much foresight. We have still a valuable monument of this epoch in a charter, by which the King of France stipulates how much he is to pay to a great number of barons and knights during the time the war beyond the seas should last.

Early in the month of March, Louis repaired to the Church of St. Denis, where he received the symbols of the pilgrimage and placed his kingdom under the protection of the apostles of France. Upon the day following this solemn ceremony, a mass for the crusade was celebrated in the Church of Notre Dame at Paris. The monarch appeared there, accompanied by his children and the principal nobles of his court; he walked from the palace barefooted, carrying his scrip and staff. The same day he went to sleep at Vincennes, and beheld, for the last time, the spot on which he had enjoyed so much happiness in administering justice to his people. And it was here too that he took leave of Queen Marguerite, whom he had never before quitted—a separation rendered so much the more painful by the sorrowful reflection it recalled of past events and by melancholy presentiments for the future.

Both the people and the court were affected by the deepest regret; and that which added to the public anxiety was the circumstance that everyone was ignorant of the point to which the expedition was to be directed: the coast of Africa was only vaguely conjectured. The King of Sicily had taken the cross without having the least inclination to embark for Asia; and when the question was discussed in council he gave it as his opinion that Tunis should be the object of the first attack. The kingdom of Tunis covered the seas with pirates, who infested all the routes to Palestine; it was, besides, the ally of Egypt, and might, if subdued, be made the readiest road to that country. These were the ostensible reasons put forth; the true ones were that it was of importance to the King of Sicily that the coasts of Africa should be brought under European subjection, and that he did not wish to go too far from Italy. The true reason with St. Louis, and that which, no doubt, determined him, was that he believed it possible to convert the King of Tunis, and thus bring a vast kingdom under the Christian banners. The Mussulman Prince, whose ambassadors had been several times in France, had himself given birth to this idea, by saying that he asked nothing better than to embrace the religion of Jesus Christ; thus, that which he had said to turn aside an invasion was precisely the cause of the war being directed against his territories. Louis IX often repeated that he would consent to pass the whole of his life in a dungeon, without seeing the sun, if, by such sacrifice, the conversion of the King of Tunis and his nation could be brought about; an expression of ardent proselytism that has been blamed with much bitterness, but which only showed an extreme desire to see Africa delivered from barbarism and marching with Europe in the progress of intelligence and civilization, which are the great blessings of Christianity.

As Louis traversed his kingdom on his way to Aigues-Mortes, where the army of the crusaders was to embark, he was everywhere hailed by the benedictions of his people, and gratified by hearing their ardent prayers for the success of his arms. The clergy and the faithful, assembled in the churches, prayed for the King and his children and all that should follow him. They prayed also for foreign princes and nobles who had taken the cross and promised to go into the East, as if they would, by that means, press them to hasten their departure.

Very few, however, responded to this religious appeal. The King of Castile, who had taken the cross, had pretensions to the imperial crown, nor could he forget the death of his brother Frederick, immolated by Charles of Anjou. It was not only that the affairs of the empire detained the German princes and nobles; the death of young Conradin had so shocked and disgusted men's minds in Germany that no one from that country would have consented to fight under the same banners as the King of Sicily. So black a crime, committed amid the preparations for a holy war, appeared to presage great calamities. In the height of their grief or indignation, people might fear that heaven would be angry with the Christians, and that its curse would fall upon the arms of the crusaders.

When Louis arrived at Aigues-Mortes, he found neither the Genoese fleet nor the principal nobles who were to embark with him; the ambassadors of Palæologus were the only persons who did not cause themselves to be waited for; for a great dread of the crusade was entertained at Constantinople, and this fear was more active than the enthusiasm of the crusaders. Louis might have asked the Greek Emperor why, after having promised to send soldiers, he had only sent ambassadors; but Louis, who attached great importance to the conversion of the Greeks, contented himself with removing the apprehensions of the envoys, and, as Clement IV died at that period, he sent them to the conclave of the cardinals, to terminate the reunion of the two churches.

At length the unwilling crusaders, stimulated by repeated exhortations and by the example of Louis, set forward on their march from all the provinces, and directed their course toward the ports of Aigues-Mortes and Marseilles. Louis soon welcomed the arrival of the Count of Poictiers, with a great number of his vassals; the principal nobles brought with them the most distinguished of their knights and their most brave and hardy soldiers; many cities likewise contributed their supply of warriors. Each troop had its banner, and formed a separate corps, bearing the name of a city or a province, the battalions of Beaucaire, Carcassonne, Châlons, Perigord, etc., attracted observation in the Christian army. These names, it is true, excited great emulation, but they also gave rise to quarrels, which the wisdom and firmness of Louis had great difficulty in appeasing. Crusaders arrived from Catalonia, Castile, and several other provinces of Spain; five hundred warriors from Friesland likewise ranged themselves with full confidence under the standard of such a leader as Louis, saying that their nation had always been proud to obey the kings of France.

Before he embarked, the King wrote once more to the regents of the kingdom, to recommend them to watch carefully over public morals, to deliver France from corrupt judges, and to render to everybody, particularly the poor, prompt and perfect justice, so that He who judges the judgments of men might have nothing to reproach him with.

Such were the last farewells that Louis took of France. The fleet set sail on the 4th of July, 1270, and in a few days arrived in the road of Cagliari. Here the council of the counts and barons was assembled in the King's vessel, to deliberate upon the plan of the crusade. Those who advocated the conquest of Tunis said that by that means the passages of the Mediterranean would be opened and the power of the mamelukes would be weakened; and that after that conquest the army would go triumphantly into either Egypt or Palestine. Many of the barons were not of this opinion; they said that, if the Holy Land stood in need of prompt assistance, they ought to afford it without delay. While they were engaged on the coast of Africa, in a country with which they were unacquainted, the Christian cities of Syria might all fall into the hands of the Saracens. The most redoubtable enemy of the Christians was Beibars, the terrible Sultan of Cairo; it was him they ought first to attack; it was into his states, into the bosom of his capital, that the war should be carried, and not to a place two hundred leagues from Egypt. They added to this, remembrances of the defeats that ought to be avenged upon the very theatre of so many disasters. Contemporary history does not say to what extent Louis was struck with the wisdom of these last opinions; but the expedition to Tunis flattered his most cherished hopes. It had been proposed by the King of Sicily, whose concurrence was necessary to the success of the crusade. It was, therefore, decided that the Genoese fleet should direct its course toward Africa; and two days after, on the 20th of July, it arrived in sight of Tunis and Carthage. At the sight of the Christian fleet, the inhabitants of the coast of Africa were seized with terror, and all who were upon the Carthage shore took flight toward the mountains or toward Tunis. Some vessels that were in the port were abandoned by their crews; the King ordered Florent de Varennes, who performed the functions of admiral, to get into a boat and reconnoitre the coast. Varennes found nobody in the port or upon the shore; he sent word to the King that there was no time to be lost—he must take immediate advantage of the consternation of the enemy. But it was remembered that in the preceding expedition the descent upon the coast of Egypt had been too precipitate; in this it was determined to risk nothing. Inexperienced youth had presided over the former war; now it was directed by old age and ripe manhood, and it was resolved to wait till the morrow. The next day at dawn the coast appeared covered with Saracens, among whom were many men on horseback. The crusaders, nevertheless, commenced their preparations for landing. At the approach of the Christians, the multitude of infidels disappeared; which, according to the account of an eyewitness, was a blessing from heaven, for the disorder was so great that a hundred men would have been sufficient to stop the disembarkation of the whole army. When the Christian army had landed, it was drawn up in order of battle upon the shore, and, in accordance with the laws of war, Pierre de Condé, almoner to the King, read with a loud voice a proclamation by which the conquerors took possession of the territory. This proclamation, which Louis had drawn up himself, began by these words: "I proclaim, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, and of Louis, King of France, his sergeant," etc. The baggage, provisions, and munitions of war were landed; a vast space was marked out, and the Christian soldiers pitched their tents. While they were digging ditches and raising intrenchments to protect the army from a surprise, they took possession of the tower built on the point of the cape, and on the following day five hundred sailors planted the standard of the lilies upon the castle of Carthage. The village of Marsa, which was close to the castle, fell likewise into the hands of the crusaders; the women and the sick were placed here, while the army remained beneath their tents. Louis still hoped for the conversion of the King of Tunis, but this pious illusion was very quickly dissolved. The Mussulman Prince sent messengers to the King to inform him that he would come and meet him at the head of a hundred thousand men, and would require baptism of him on the field of battle; the Moorish King added that he had caused all the Christians in his dominions to be seized, and that every one of them should be massacred if the Christian army presumed to insult his capital. The menaces and vain bravadoes of the Prince of Tunis effected no change in the plans of the crusade; the Moors, besides, inspired no fear, and they themselves could not conceal the terror which the sight only of the Christians created in them. Not daring to face their enemy, their scattered bands sometimes hovered around the Christian army, seeking to surprise any stragglers from the camp; and at others, uniting together, they poured down toward the advanced posts, launched a few arrows, showed their naked swords, and then depended upon the swiftness of their horses to secure them from the pursuit of the Christians. They not unfrequently had recourse to treachery; three hundred of them came into the camp of the crusaders, and said they wished to embrace the Christian faith, and a hundred more followed them announcing the same intention. After being received with open arms, they waited for what they deemed a favorable opportunity, and fell upon a body of the Christians, sword in hand; but being overwhelmed by numbers, most of them were killed, and the rest were allowed to escape. Three of the principals fell on their knees and implored the compassion of their leaders. The contempt the Franks had for such enemies obtained their pardon, and they were driven out of the camp. At length the Mussulman army, now emboldened by the inaction of the Christians, presented itself several times on the plain. Nothing would have been more easy than to attack and conquer it; but Louis had resolved to act upon the defensive, and to await the arrival of the King of Sicily, before beginning the war—a fatal resolution, which ruined everything. The Sicilian monarch, who had advised this ill-starred expedition, was destined to complete, by his delays, the evil he had begun by his counsels. The Mussulmans flocked from all parts of Africa to defend the cause of Islamism against the Christians. Preparations were carried on in Egypt to meet the invasion of the Franks; and in the month of August, Beibars announced by messengers that he was about to march to the assistance of Tunis. The troops which the Sultan of Cairo maintained in the province of Barca received orders to set forward. Thus the Moorish army was about to become formidable; but it was not this host of Saracens that the crusaders had most to dread. Other dangers, other misfortunes, threatened them: the Christian army wanted water; they had none but salted provisions; the soldiers could not endure the climate of Africa; winds constantly prevailed, which, coming from the torrid zone, appeared to the Europeans to be the breath of a devouring fire. The Saracens upon the neighboring mountains raised the sand with certain instruments made for the purpose, and the dust was carried by the wind in burning clouds down upon the plain upon which the Christians were encamped. At last, dysentery, that fatal malady of warm climates, began to commit frightful ravages among the troops; and the plague, which appears to be born of itself upon this burning, arid sand, spread its dire contagion through the Christian army.

They were obliged to be under arms night and day; not to defend themselves from an enemy that always fled away from them, but to guard against surprise. A vast number of the crusaders sunk under fatigue, famine, and disease.

It became impossible to bury the dead; the ditches of the camp were filled with carcasses, thrown in in heaps, which added to the corruption of the air and to the spectacle of the general desolation.

In spite of his sufferings, in spite of his griefs, Louis IX was constantly engaged in endeavors to alleviate the situation of his army. He gave orders as long as he had any strength left, dividing his time between the duties of a Christian and those of a monarch. The fever, however, increased; no longer able to attend either to his cares for the army or to exercises of piety, he ordered the cross to be placed before him, and, stretching out his hands, he in silence implored Him who had suffered for all men.

The whole army was in a state of mourning—the soldiers walked about in tears, demanding of heaven the preservation of so good a prince. Amid the general grief, Louis turned his thoughts toward the accomplishment of the divine laws and the destinies of France.

Philip, who was his successor to the throne, was in his tent; he desired him to approach his bed, and in a faltering voice gave him counsels in what manner he should govern the kingdom of his fathers. The instructions he gave him comprise the most noble maxims of religion and loyalty; and that which will render them forever worthy of the respect of posterity is that they had the authority of his example, and only recalled the virtues of his own life.

HEIGHT OF THE MONGOL POWER IN CHINA

A.D. 1271

MARCO POLO

The celebrated traveller, Marco Polo, was born at Venice in 1254, and died there in 1334, His father, a Venetian merchant, had passed many years in Tartary, where he was hospitably treated by Kublai Khan, to whose court, at an early age, Marco was taken, and there was received into the Khan's service. The training he acquired there fitted him to become a professional politician rather than a traveller, in the ordinary sense of the word; hence his more intimate acquaintance with the social and political systems which he describes.

Possessing, in a high degree, the versatility and subtlety seen in so many of his nation, and improving his new opportunities, he soon became among the high-class Tartars as one of themselves. He adopted their dress and manners, and learned the four languages spoken in the Khan's dominions, of which he left a famous description in his book of travels.

The empire seems at this time to have been at the height of its splendor, and historians, as well as students and readers of history, have been fortunate in possessing the shrewd and candid observations of Marco Polo, whose unique narratives still preserve their simple charm, nowise impaired by comparison with our stricter historical methods.

It is our desire to treat of the great and admirable achievements of the Grand Khan now reigning, who is styled Kublai Khan; the latter word implying, in our language, lord of lords, and with much propriety added to his name; for in respect to number of subjects, extent of territory, and amount of revenue he surpasses every sovereign that has heretofore been or that now is in the world; nor has any other been served with such implicit obedience by those whom he governs.

Kublai Khan is the lineal and legitimate descendant of Genghis Khan, the first emperor, and the rightful sovereign of the Tartars. He obtained the sovereignty by his consummate valor, his virtues, and his prudence, in opposition to the designs of his brothers, supported by many of the great officers and members of his own family. But the succession appertained to him of right. It is forty-two years since he began to reign, and he is fully eighty-five years of age. Previously to his ascending the throne he had served as a volunteer in the army, and endeavored to take a share in every enterprise. Not only was he brave and daring in action, but in point of judgment and military skill he was considered to be the most able and successful commander that ever led the Tartars to battle. From that period, however, he ceased to take the field in person, and intrusted the conduct of expeditions to his sons and his captains; excepting in one instance, the occasion of which was as follows.

A certain chief named Nayan, who, although only thirty years of age, was kinsman to Kublai, had succeeded to the dominion of many cities and provinces, which enabled him to bring into the field an army of four hundred thousand horse. His predecessors, however, had been vassals of the Grand Khan. Actuated by youthful vanity upon finding himself at the head of so great a force, he formed, in the year 1286, the design of throwing off his allegiance, and usurping the sovereignty. With this view he privately despatched messengers to Kaidu, another powerful chief, whose territories lay toward the greater Turkey, and who, although a nephew of the Grand Khan, was in rebellion against him, and bore him determined ill-will, proceeding from the apprehension of punishment for former offences. To Kaidu, therefore, the propositions made by Nayan were highly satisfactory, and he accordingly promised to bring to his assistance an army of a hundred thousand horse. Both princes immediately began to assemble their forces, but it could not be effected so secretly as not to come to the knowledge of Kublai, who, upon hearing of their preparations, lost no time in occupying all the passes leading to the countries of Nayan and of Kaidu, in order to prevent them from having any information respecting the measures he was himself taking.

He then gave orders for collecting, with the utmost celerity, the whole of the troops stationed within ten days' march of the city of Kambalu. These amounted to three hundred and sixty thousand horse, to which was added a body of a hundred thousand foot, consisting of those who were usually about his person, and principally his falconers and domestic servants. In the course of twenty days they were all in readiness. Had he assembled the armies kept up for the constant protection of the different provinces of Cathay, it must necessarily have required thirty or forty days; in which time the enemy would have gained information of his arrangements, and been enabled to effect their junction, and to occupy such strong positions as would best suit with their designs. His object was, by promptitude, which is ever the companion of victory, to anticipate the preparations of Nayan, and, by falling upon him while single, destroy his power with more certainty and effect than after he should have been joined by Kaidu.

In every province of Cathay and of Manji,[65] as well as in other parts of his dominions, there were many disloyal and seditious persons, who at all times were disposed to break out in rebellion against their sovereign, and on this account it became necessary to keep armies in such of the provinces as contained large cities and an extensive population, which are stationed at the distance of four or five miles from those cities, and can enter them at their pleasure. These armies the Grand Khan makes it a practice to change every second year, and the same with respect to the officers who command them. By means of such precautions the people are kept in quiet subjection, and no movement nor innovation of any kind can be attempted. The troops are maintained not only from the pay they receive out of the imperial revenues of the province, but also from the cattle and their milk, which belong to them individually, and which they send into the cities for sale, furnishing themselves from thence, in return, with those articles of which they stand in need. In this manner they are distributed over the country, in various places, to the distance of thirty, forty, and even sixty days' journey. If even the half of these corps were to be collected in one place, the statement of their number would appear marvellous and scarcely entitled to belief.

Having formed his army in the manner above described, the Grand Khan proceeded toward the territory of Nayan, and by forced marches, continued day and night, he reached it at the expiration of twenty-five days. So prudently, at the same time, was the expedition managed, that neither that Prince himself nor any of his dependents were aware of it, all the roads being guarded in such a manner that no persons who attempted to pass could escape being made prisoners. Upon arriving at a certain range of hills, on the other side of which was the plain where Nayan's army lay encamped, Kublai halted his troops and allowed them two days of rest. During this interval he called upon his astrologers to ascertain, by virtue of their art, and to declare in presence of the whole army, to which side the victory would incline. They pronounced that it would fall to the lot of Kublai. It has ever been the practice of the grand khans to have recourse to divination for the purpose of inspiriting their men.

Confident, therefore, of success, they ascended the hill with alacrity the next morning, and presented themselves before the army of Nayan, which they found negligently posted, without advanced parties or scouts, while the chief himself was asleep in his tent, accompanied by one of his wives. Upon awaking, he hastened to form his troops in the best manner that circumstances would allow, lamenting that his junction with Kaidu had not been sooner effected. Kublai took his station in a large wooden castle, borne on the backs of four elephants, whose bodies were protected with coverings of thick leather hardened by fire, over which were housings of cloth of gold. The castle contained many cross-bowmen and archers, and on the top of it was hoisted the imperial standard, adorned with representations of the sun and moon. His army, which consisted of thirty battalions of horse, each battalion containing ten thousand men, armed with bows, he disposed in three grand divisions; and those which formed the left and right wings he extended in such a manner as to outflank the army of Nayan. In front of each battalion of horse were placed five hundred infantry, armed with short lances and swords, who, whenever the cavalry made a show of fight, were practised to mount behind the riders and accompany them, alighting again when they returned to the charge, and killing, with their lances, the horses of the enemy. As soon as the order of battle was arranged, an infinite number of wind instruments of various kinds were sounded, and these were succeeded by songs, according to the custom of the Tartars before they engage in fight, which commences upon the signal given by the cymbals and drums, and there was such a beating of the cymbals and drums, and such singing, that it was wonderful to hear. This signal, by the orders of the Grand Khan, was first given to the right and left wings; and then a fierce and bloody conflict began. The air was instantly filled with a cloud of arrows that poured down on every side, and vast numbers of men and horses were seen to fall to the ground.

The loud cries and shouts of the men, together with the noise of the horses and the weapons, were such as to inspire terror in those who heard them. When their arrows had been discharged, the hostile parties engaged in close combat with their lances, swords, and maces shod with iron; and such was the slaughter, and so large were the heaps of the carcasses of men, and more especially of horses, on the field, that it became impossible for the one party to advance upon the other. Thus the fortune of the day remained for a long time undecided, and victory wavered between the contending parties from morning until noon; for so zealous was the devotion of Nayan's people to the cause of their master, who was most liberal and indulgent toward them, that they were all ready to meet death rather than turn their backs to the enemy. At length, however, Nayan, perceiving that he was nearly surrounded, attempted to save himself by flight, but was presently made prisoner, and conducted to the presence of Kublai, who gave orders for his being put to death. This was carried into execution by enclosing him between two carpets, which were violently shaken until the spirit had departed from the body; the motive for this peculiar sentence being that the sun and the air should not witness the shedding of the blood of one who belonged to the imperial family. Those of his troops which survived the battle came to make their submission and swear allegiance to Kublai.

Nayan, who had privately undergone the ceremony of baptism, but never made open profession of Christianity, thought proper, on this occasion, to bear the sign of the cross in his banners, and he had in his army a vast number of Christians, who were among the slain. When the Jews and the Saracens perceived that the banner of the cross was overthrown, they taunted the Christian inhabitants with it, saying: "Behold the state to which your (vaunted) banners, and those who followed them, are reduced!" On account of these derisions the Christians were compelled to lay their complaints before the Grand Khan, who ordered the former to appear before him, and sharply rebuked them. "If the cross of Christ," he said, "has not proved advantageous to the party of Nayan, the effect has been consistent with reason and justice, inasmuch as he was a rebel and a traitor to his lord, and to such wretches it could not afford its protection. Let none therefore presume to charge with injustice the God of the Christians, who is himself the perfection of goodness and of justice."

The Grand Khan, having obtained this signal victory, returned with great pomp and triumph to the capital city of Kanbalu. This took place in the month of November, and he continued to reside there during the months of February and March, in which latter was our festival of Easter. Being aware that this was one of our principal solemnities, he commanded all the Christians to attend him, and to bring with them their book, which contains the four gospels of the evangelists. After causing it to be repeatedly perfumed with incense, in a ceremonious manner, he devoutly kissed it, and directed that the same should be done by all his nobles who were present. This was his usual practice upon each of the principal Christian festivals, such as Easter and Christmas; and he observed the same at the festivals of the Saracens, Jews, and idolaters.[66] Upon being asked his motive for this conduct, he said: "There are four great prophets who are reverenced and worshipped by the different classes of mankind. The Christians regard Jesus Christ as their divinity; the Saracens, Mahomet; the Jews, Moses;[67] and the idolaters, Sogomombar-khan,[68] the most eminent among their idols. I do honor and show respect to all the four, and invoke to my aid whichever among them is in truth supreme in heaven."

But from the manner in which his majesty acted toward them, it is evident that he regarded the faith of the Christians as the truest and the best; nothing, as he observed, being enjoined to its professors that was not replete with virtue and holiness. By no means, however, would he permit them to bear the cross before them in their processions, because upon it so exalted a personage as Christ had been scourged and (ignominiously) put to death. It may perhaps be asked by some why, if he showed such a preference to the faith of Christ, he did not conform to it and become a Christian? His reason for not so doing he assigned: "Wherefore should I become a Christian? The Christians of these countries are ignorant, inefficient persons, who do not possess the faculty of performing anything (miraculous); whereas the idolaters can do whatever they will. When I sit at table the cups that were in the middle of the hall come to me filled with wine and other beverage, spontaneously and without being touched by human hand, and I drink from them. They have the power of controlling bad weather and obliging it to retire to any quarter of the heavens, with many other wonderful gifts of that nature. Their idols have the faculty of speech, and predict to them whatever is required. Should I become a convert to the faith of Christ and profess myself a Christian, the nobles of my court and other persons who do not incline to that religion will ask me what sufficient motives have caused me to receive baptism and to embrace Christianity. 'What extraordinary powers,' they will say, 'what miracles, have been displayed by its ministers?' Whereas, the idolaters declare that what they exhibit is performed through their own sanctity and the influence of their idols.

"To this I shall not know what answer to make, and I shall be considered by them as laboring under a grievous error; while the idolaters, who by means of their profound art can effect such wonders, may without difficulty compass my death. But let the Pontiff send hither a hundred persons well skilled in Christian law, who being confronted with the idolaters shall have power to coerce them, and showing that they themselves are endowed with similar art, but which they refrain from exercising because it is derived from the agency of evil spirits, shall compel them to desist from practices of such a nature in their presence. When I am witness of this I shall place them and their religion under an interdict, and shall allow myself to be baptized. Following my example, all my nobility will then in like manner receive baptism, and this will be imitated by my subjects in general." From this discourse it must be evident that if the Pope had sent out persons duly qualified to preach the gospel, the Grand Khan would have embraced Christianity, for which, it is certainly known, he had a strong predilection.

The Grand Khan appoints twelve of the most intelligent among his nobles, whose duty it is to make themselves acquainted with the conduct of the officers and men of his army, particularly upon expeditions and in battles, and to present their reports to him, and he, upon being apprised of their respective merits, advances them in his service, raising those who commanded a hundred men to the command of a thousand, and presenting many with vessels of silver, as well as the customary tablets or warrants of command and of government. The tablets given to those commanding a hundred men are of silver; to those commanding a thousand, of gold or of silver gilt; and those who command ten thousand receive tablets of gold, bearing the head of a lion; the former being of the weight of a hundred and twenty saggi,[69] and these with the lion's head two hundred and twenty. At the top of the inscription on the tablet is a sentence to this effect: "By the power and might of the great God, and through the grace which he vouchsafes to our empire, be the name of the Khan blessed; and let all such as disobey (what is herein directed) suffer death and be utterly destroyed."

The officers who hold these tablets have privileges attached to them, and in the inscription is specified what are the duties and the powers of their respective commands. He who is at the head of a hundred thousand men, or the commander-in-chief of a grand army, has a golden tablet weighing three hundred saggi, with the sentence above mentioned, and at the bottom is engraved the figure of a lion, together with representations of the sun and moon. He exercises also the privileges of his high command, as set forth in this magnificent tablet. Whenever he rides in public, an umbrella is carried over his head, denoting the rank and authority he holds;[70] and when he is seated, it is always upon a silver chair. The Grand Khan confers likewise upon certain of his nobles tablets on which are represented figures of the gerfalcon, in virtue of which they are authorized to take with them as their guard of honor the whole army of any great prince. They can also make use of the horses of the imperial stud at their pleasure, and can appropriate the horses of any officers inferior to themselves in rank.

Kublai is of the middle stature, that is, neither tall nor short; his limbs are well formed, and in his whole figure there is a just proportion. His complexion is fair, and occasionally suffused with red, like the bright tint of the rose, which adds much grace to his countenance. His eyes are black and handsome, his nose is well shaped and prominent. He has four wives of the first rank, who are esteemed legitimate, and the eldest born son of any one of these succeeds to the empire upon the decease of the grand khan. They bear equally the title of "empress," and have their separate courts. None of them has fewer than three hundred young female attendants of great beauty, together with a multitude of youths as pages, and other eunuchs, as well as ladies of the bedchamber; so that the number of persons belonging to each of their respective courts amounts to ten thousand.

The Grand Khan usually resides during three months of the year—December, January, and February—in the great city of Kanbalu,[71] situated toward the northeastern extremity of Cathay; and here, on the southern side of the new city, is the site of his vast palace, in a square enclosed with a wall and deep ditch; each side of the square being eight miles in length, and having at an equal distance from each extremity an entrance gate. Within this enclosure there is, on the four sides, an open space one mile in breadth, where the troops are stationed, and this is bounded by a second wall, enclosing a square of six miles. The palace contains a number of separate chambers, all highly beautiful, and so admirably disposed that it seems impossible to suggest any improvement to the system of their arrangement. The exterior of the roof is adorned with a variety of colors—red, green, azure, and violet—and the sort of covering is so strong as to last for many years.

The glazing of the windows is so well wrought and so delicate as to have the transparency of crystal. In the rear of the body of the palace there are large buildings containing several apartments, where is deposited the private property of the monarch, or his treasure in gold and silver bullion, precious stones, and pearls, and also his vessels of gold and silver plate. Here are likewise the apartments of his wives and concubines; and in this retired situation he despatches business with convenience, being free from every kind of interruption.

His majesty, having imbibed an opinion from the astrologers that the city of Kanbalu was destined to become rebellious to his authority, resolved upon building another capital, upon the opposite side of the river, where stand the palaces just described, so that the new and the old cities are separated from each other only by the stream that runs between them. The new-built city received the name of Tai-du, and all those of the inhabitants who were natives of Cathay were compelled to evacuate the ancient city and to take up their abode in the new. Some of the inhabitants, however, of whose loyalty he did not entertain suspicion, were suffered to remain, especially because the latter, although of the dimensions that shall presently be described, was not capable of containing the same number as the former, which was of vast extent.

This new city is of a form perfectly square, and twenty-four miles in extent, each of its sides being neither more nor less than six miles. It is enclosed with walls of earth that at the base are about ten paces thick, but gradually diminish to the top, where the thickness is not more than three paces. In all parts the battlements are white. The whole plan of the city was regularly laid out by line, and the streets in general are consequently so straight that when a person ascends the wall over one of the gates, and looks right forward, he can see the gate opposite to him on the other side of the city. In the public streets there are, on each side, booths and shops of every description. All the allotments of ground upon which the habitations throughout the city were constructed are square and exactly on a line with each other; each allotment being sufficiently spacious for handsome buildings, with corresponding courts and gardens. One of these was assigned to each head of a family; that is to say, such a person of such a tribe had one square allotted to him, and so of the rest. Afterward the property passed from hand to hand. In this manner the whole interior of the city is disposed in squares, so as to resemble a chess-board, and planned out with a degree of precision and beauty impossible to describe.

The wall of the city has twelve gates, three on each side of the square, and over each gate and compartment of the wall there is a handsome building; so that on each side of the square there are five such buildings, containing large rooms, in which are disposed the arms of those who form the garrison of the city, every gate being guarded by a thousand men. It is not to be understood that such a force is stationed there in consequence of the apprehension of danger from any hostile power whatever, but as a guard suitable to the honor and dignity of the sovereign.

FOUNDING OF THE HOUSE OF HAPSBURG

A.D. 1273

WILLIAM COXE

The house of Hapsburg—-also called the house of Austria—owes its origin and firm establishment to the most celebrated of the Hapsburgs, a German princely family who derived their name from Hapsburg castle, built about 1020, on the banks of the Aare in Switzerland. This founder of the imperial line was Rudolph, son of Albert IV, Count of Hapsburg and Landgrave of Alsace. Rudolph was born in 1218, and died at Germersheim, Germany, in 1291. He succeeded his father in Hapsburg and Alsace in 1239, and in 1273 was elected German King (Rudolph I), with the substance, though not the title, of the imperial dignity of the Holy Roman Empire.

It is said that the electors desired an emperor, but not the exercise of imperial power, and that in Rudolph they saw a candidate of comparative lowliness, from whom their authority stood in little jeopardy. At the age of fifty-five the new sovereign assumed his throne in the face of difficulty and danger. He was opposed by the Spanish claimant, Alfonso of Castile, and confronted a formidable rival in Ottocar, King of Bohemia, whose contumacy disturbed the reign of Rudolph from its very beginning.

Rudolph's enemies had appealed against him to Pope Gregory X, and Rudolph in turn sought the ratification of the Pontiff, to whom, immediately after his election, he sent messengers with a letter imploring papal countenance. From this moment to the day when he finally overcame Ottocar in the field and secured the possessions which became hereditary in the house of Hapsburg, the historian narrates the steps whereby Rudolph advanced in his career.

Fortunately for the interests of Rudolph and the peace of Germany, Gregory X was prudent, humane, and generous, and from a long experience of worldly affairs had acquired a profound knowledge of men and manners. An ardent zeal for the propagation of the Christian faith was the leading feature of his character, and the object of his greatest ambition was to lead an army of crusaders against the infidels. To the accomplishment of this purpose he directed his aims, and, like a true father of Christendom, was anxious to appease instead of fomenting the troubles of Europe, and to consolidate the union of the German states, which it had been the policy of his predecessors to divide and disunite. By the most insinuating address he knew how to conciliate the affections of those who approached him, and to bend to his purpose the most steady opposition; and he endeavored to gain by extreme affability and the mildness of his deportment what his predecessors had extorted by the most extravagant pretensions.

The ambassadors of Rudolph were received with complacency by the Pope, and obtained his sanction by agreeing, in the name of their master, to the same conditions which Otho IV and Frederick II had sworn to observe; by confirming all the donations of the emperors, his predecessors, to the papal see; by promising to accept no office or dignity in any of the papal territories, particularly in the city of Rome, without the consent of the Pope; by agreeing not to disturb nor permit the house of Anjou to be disturbed in the possession of Naples and Sicily, which they held as fiefs from the Roman see; and by engaging to undertake in person a crusade against the infidels. In consequence of these concessions, Gregory gave the new King of the Romans his most cordial support, refused to listen to the overtures of Ottocar, and after much difficulty finally succeeded in persuading Alfonso to renounce his pretensions to the imperial dignity.

An interview in October, 1275, between Rudolph and Gregory at Lausanne, concluded his negotiations with the Roman see, and gave rise to a personal friendship between the heads of the Church and the empire, who were equally distinguished for their frank and amiable qualities. In this interview Rudolph publicly ratified the articles which his ambassadors had concluded in his name; the electors and princes who were present followed his example, and Gregory again confirmed the election of Rudolph, on condition that he should repair to Rome the following year to receive the imperial crown. At the conclusion of this ceremony the new Emperor, with his consort and the princes of the empire, assumed the cross, and engaged to undertake a crusade against the infidels.

During the negotiations of Rudolph with Gregory X, Ottocar had exerted himself to shake the authority of the new chief of the empire, and to consolidate a confederacy with the German princes. He not only rejected with disdain all the proposals of accommodation made at the instances of Rudolph by the judicious and conciliating Pontiff, but prevented the clergy of Bohemia from contributing the tenths of their revenue or preaching the crusade. He endeavored to alarm the princes of the empire by displaying the views of the new sovereign, to recover the imperial fiefs which they had appropriated during the interregnum, and by his promises and intrigues succeeded in attaching to his cause the Margrave of Baden and the counts of Freiburg, Neuburg, and Montfort. But he secured a still more powerful partisan in Henry, Duke of Lower Bavaria, by fomenting the disputes between him and his brother the Count Palatine, and by ceding to him Scharding and other places wrested from Bavaria by the Duke of Austria.

When summoned by Rudolph to do homage for his fiefs, according to the custom of the empire, he returned a haughty answer, treating him as Count of Hapsburg; a second summons was received with silent contempt; on a third he sent his ambassador, the Bishop of Seccan, to the Diet of Augsburg; and his example was followed by Henry of Bavaria. These ministers were, however, only deputed to raise a feigned contest relative to the vote of Henry and to protest against the election of Rudolph. The ambassador of Henry urged the protest with moderation and respect; but the Bishop of Seccan delivered a virulent invective against the chief of the empire, in a style conformable to the spirit and character of his powerful and haughty master. He declared that the assembly in which Rudolph had been chosen was illegal; that the arbitration of Louis of Bavaria was unprecedented; that a man excommunicated by the Pope for plundering churches and convents was ineligible to the imperial throne, and that his sovereign, who held his dominions by an indisputable title, owed no homage to the Count of Hapsburg.

As he spoke in the Latin tongue, the Emperor interrupted him with a dignified rebuke. "Bishop," he said, "if you were to harangue in an ecclesiastical consistory, you might use the Latin tongue; but when discoursing upon your rights and the rights of the princes of the empire, why do you employ a language which the greater part of those who are present do not comprehend?" The rebuke of the sovereign justly roused the indignation of the assembly; the princes, and particularly the Elector Palatine, started from their seats, and were scarcely prevented from employing violence, even by the interposition of Rudolph; and the ambassadors, quitting the assembly, retired from Augsburg.

The diet, irritated by this insult, passed a decree asserting the unanimity of Rudolph's election; they declared Ottocar guilty of contumacy; required him to restore Austria, Carinthia, and Carniola, which he had usurped, and to do homage for the remainder of his dominions. In case of refusal the ban of the empire was denounced against him, and supplies of men and money were voted to support their sovereign, to assert the imperial dignity, and to reduce the rebellious princes to obedience. The Burgrave of Nuremberg and the Bishop of Basel were despatched to Ottocar in the name of the diet, to demand his instant acknowledgment of Rudolph as king of the Romans, and the restitution of Austria, Styria, Carinthia, and Carniola.

They accordingly repaired to Prague, and delivered their message. "Tell Rudolph," replied the spirited monarch, "that he may rule over the territories of the empire, but I will not tamely yield those possessions which, I have acquired at the expense of so much blood and treasure; they are mine by marriage, by purchase, or by conquest." He then broke out into bitter invectives against Rudolph, and after tauntingly expressing his surprise that a petty count of Hapsburg should have been preferred to so many powerful candidates, dismissed the ambassadors with contempt. In the heat of his resentment he even violated the laws of nations, and put to death the heralds who announced to him the resolutions of the diet and delivered the ban of the empire.

During this whole transaction Rudolph acted with becoming prudence and extreme circumspection. He had endeavored by the mildest methods to bring Ottocar to terms of conciliation; and when all his overtures were received with insult and contempt, and hostilities became inevitable, he did not seek a distant war till he had obtained the full confirmation of the Pope and had reëstablished the peace of those parts of the empire which bordered on his own dominions. He first attacked the petty adherents of Ottocar, the Margrave of Baden, and the counts of Freiburg, Montfort, and Neuburg, and, having compelled them to do homage and to restore the fiefs which they had appropriated during the preceding troubles, he prepared to turn his whole force against the King of Bohemia, with a solicitude which the power and talents of his formidable rival naturally inspired.

The contest in which Rudolph was about to engage was of a nature to call forth all his resources and talents. Ottocar was a prince of high spirit, great abilities, and distinguished military skill, which had been exercised in constant warfare from his early youth. By hereditary right he succeeded to Bohemia and Moravia, and to these territories he had made continual additions by his crusades against the Prussians, his contests with the kings of Hungary, and still more by his recent acquisition of Austria, Carinthia, and Carniola.

In the tenth century Austria, with both Styria and Carniola, under the title of a margravate, was governed by Leopold I of the house of Bamberg. It continued in the possession of his family, and in 1156 was erected into an independent duchy by the emperor Frederick II, and conferred on Henry, fifth in descent from Leopold, as an indivisible and inalienable fief; in failure of male issue it was made descendible to his eldest daughter, and, in failure of female issue, disposable by will. In 1245 Frederick the Warlike, last duke of the Bamberg line, obtained a confirmation of this decree; but, dying in the ensuing year without issue and without disposing of his territories by will, a dispute arose relative to his succession. The claimants were his two sisters, Margaret, widow of Henry VII, King of the Romans, and Constantia, wife of Henry the Illustrious, Margrave of Misnia; and his niece Gertrude, daughter of Henry, his elder brother, the wife of Premislaus, eldest son of Wenceslaus, King of Bohemia and brother of Ottocar. But on the plea that neither of the claimants was a daughter of the last Duke, the Emperor Frederick II sequestrated these territories as fiefs escheating to the empire, and transferred the administration to Otho, Count of Werdenberg, who took possession of the country and resided in Vienna.

As this event happened during the contest between the see of Rome and the house of Swabia, Innocent IV, who had deposed and excommunicated Frederick, laid Austria under an interdict, and encouraged the kings of Bohemia and Hungary and the Duke of Bavaria to invade the country. The Pope first patronized the claims of Margaret, and urged her to marry a German prince; but on her application to the Emperor to bestow the duchy on her eldest son Frederick, he supported Gertrude, who, after the death of Premislaus, had espoused Herman, Margrave of Baden, nephew of Otho, Duke of Bavaria, and induced the anticæsar, William of Holland, to grant him the investiture.

On the demise of Frederick II his son Conrad was too much occupied with the affairs of Italy to attend to those of Germany; the imperial troops quitted Austria, and, Herman dying, Otho of Bavaria occupied that part of Austria which lies above the Ems. But Wenceslaus of Bohemia, prevailing on the states to choose his eldest surviving son Ottocar as their sovereign, under the condition that he should espouse Margaret, expelled the Bavarians and took possession of the whole country. Gertrude fled to Bela, King of Hungary, whose uncle Roman, a Russian prince, she married, and ceded to him her pretensions on Styria, on condition that he should assert her right to Austria. A war ensued between Ottocar and the King of Hungary, in which Ottocar, being defeated, was compelled to cede part of Styria to Stephen, son of Bela, and a small district of that country was appropriated for the maintenance of Gertrude. But the Hungarian governors being guilty of the most enormous exactions the natives of Styria rose and transferred their allegiance to Ottocar, who secured that duchy by defeating Bela at Cressenbrum, and by the treaty of peace which followed that victory. Ottocar had scarcely obtained possession of Styria before he deprived Gertrude of her small pittance, and the unfortunate princess took refuge from his tyranny in a convent of Misnia. Having thus secured Austria and Styria, and ascended the throne of Bohemia, Ottocar divorced Margaret, who was much older than himself; and to acquire that right of succession of Frederick the Warlike which he had lost by this separation from his wife he, in 1262, procured from Richard of Cornwall the investiture of Austria, Styria, and Carniola, as fiefs devolved to the empire. He either promised or gave compensation to Agnes, daughter of Gertrude by Herman of Baden, and to Henry, Margrave of Misnia, husband of Constantia.

Ottocar next purchased of Ulric, Duke of Carinthia and Carniola, who had no issue, the right of succeeding to those duchies on his death. In the deed of transfer, instituted December, 1268, Ulric describes himself as without heirs; although his brother Philip, Archbishop of Salzburg, was still living. On the death of Ulric, in 1269 or 1270, Ottocar took possession of those duchies, defeated Philip, who asserted his claims, and forced the natives to submit to his authority.

By these accessions of territory, Ottocar became the most powerful prince of Europe, for his dominions extended from the confines of Bavaria to Raab in Hungary, and from the Adriatic to the shores of the Baltic. On the contrary, the hereditary possessions of Rudolph were comparatively inconsiderable, remote from the scene of contest, and scattered at the foot of the Alps and in the mountains of Alsace and Swabia; and though head of the empire, he was seated on a tottering throne, and feebly supported by the princes of Germany, who raised him to that exalted dignity to render him their chief rather in name than in power.

Although the princes and states of the empire had voted succors, many had failed in their promised assistance, and, had the war been protracted, those few would have infallibly deserted a cause in which their own interests were not materially concerned. The wise but severe regulations of Rudolph for extirpating the banditti, demolishing the fortresses of the turbulent barons, and recovering the fiefs which several of the princes had unjustly appropriated, excited great discontent. Under these circumstances the powerful and imperious Ottocar cannot be deemed rash for venturing to contend with a petty count of Switzerland, whom he compared to those phantoms of sovereignty, William of Holland and Richard of Cornwall, or that he should conclude a king of Bohemia to be more powerful than an emperor. The event, however, showed that he had judged too hastily of his own strength and of Rudolph's comparative weakness, and proved that, when the reins of government were held by an able hand, the resources of the empire were still considerable, and its enmity an object of terror.

Rudolph derived considerable support from his sons-in-law the Electors of Palatine and Saxony, and from the Elector of Brandenburg; the Burgrave of Nuremberg, the nobles of Alsace and Swabia, and the citizens and mountaineers of Switzerland. Having made the necessary preparations, he, with a judicious policy, turned his attention to those princes who, from the vicinity of their dominions, were in a state of continual enmity or warfare with the King of Bohemia. He concluded a treaty with Ladislaus, King of Hungary, and strengthened the bond of union by betrothing his daughter to Andrew, Duke of Slavonia and brother of Ladislaus. He entered into an alliance with Meinhard, Count of Tyrol, which he cemented by the marriage of his eldest son Albert with Elizabeth, daughter of Meinhard. But his views were still more promoted by the general discontent which pervaded every part of the Austrian dominions, and by the anathemas of Philip, titular Duke of Carinthia and Archbishop of Salzburg, who absolved the people of his diocese from their oath of allegiance, and exhorted them to shake off the yoke of a tyrant and receive the chief of the empire.

The prelate made repeated exhortations to Rudolph to hasten his expedition. He drew a hideous picture of Ottocar's oppressions; expatiated on the discontents of the natives, and their inveterate hatred to the Bohemians, and used all his eloquence to encourage the King of the Romans to invade the country. "I observe," he says, "the countenances of your adversaries pale with terror; their strength is withered; they fear you unknown; your image is terrible in their imaginations; and they tremble even at the very mention of your name. How will they act, and how will they tremble when they hear the voice of the approaching thunder, when they see the imperial eagles rushing down on them like the flash of the lightning!"

The plan formed by Rudolph for the prosecution of the war was calculated to divide the forces and distract the attention of Ottocar. He himself was to penetrate into Bohemia, while his son was to invade Austria, and Meinhard of Tyrol to make a diversion on the side of Styria. To oppose this threatened invasion, Ottocar assembled a considerable army, sent a reënforcement to Henry of Bavaria, augmented the garrison of Klosterneuburg, a fortress deemed impregnable, fortified Vienna, and despatched a considerable party of his army toward Teppel to secure his frontier; but resigning himself to supineness and careless security, he passed that time, which should have been employed in repressing the discontented by his presence and rousing the courage of his troops, in hunting and courtly diversions.

Rudolph, apprised of these dispositions, changed his plan, marched against Henry of Bavaria, and compelled him, by force of arms, to desert the Bohemian alliance. He meditated a reconciliation between the Duke and his brother the Count Palatine, and, to secure his coöperation, gave his daughter Hedwige in marriage to Otho, son of Henry, with the promise of assigning a part of Upper Austria as a pledge of her portion. This success opened to him a way into Austria. Accompanied by Henry with a reënforcement of one thousand horses, he traversed Lower Bavaria, by Ratisbon and Passau; overran that part of Austria which lies to the south of the Danube, without resistance, was received with joy by the natives, and rapidly marched toward Vienna.

This well-concerted expedition bore rather the appearance of a journey than a conquest, and Ottocar, awakened from his lethargy, received the intelligence with astonishment and terror. He now found even his ally Henry, in whose assistance he had confided, serving with his enemies, his Austrian territories invaded by a powerful army, the people hailing the King of the Romans as their deliverer, and the adversary, whom he had despised and insulted, in the very heart of his dominions. In these circumstances he recalled his army from Teppel, and led them through the woods and mountains of Bohemia to Drosendorf, on the frontiers of Austria, with the hope of saving the capital. But his troops being harassed by the fatigues of this long and difficult march, and distressed for want of provisions, he was unable to continue his progress, while Rudolph, advancing along the southern bank of the Danube, made himself master of Klosterneuburg by stratagem, and encamped under the walls of Vienna. Here, being joined by Meinhard of Tyrol, who had overrun Styria and Carinthia, and drawn the natives to his standard, he laid siege to the city. The garrison and people, who were warmly attached to Ottocar and encouraged with the hopes of speedy relief, held out for five weeks; at length the want of provisions and the threats of Rudolph to destroy the vineyards excited a small tumult among the people, and the governor proposed a capitulation.

During this time the discontents in Ottocar's army increased with their increasing distress; he was threatened by the approach of the Hungarians toward the Austrian frontiers; he saw his own troops alarmed, dispirited, and mutinous; and he was aware that on the surrender of the capital Rudolph had prepared a bridge of boats to cross the Danube and carry the war into Bohemia. In this situation, surrounded by enemies, embarrassed by increasing difficulties, deserted or opposed by his nobles, his haughty spirit was compelled to bend; he sued for peace, and the conditions were arranged by the arbitration of the Bishop of Olmuetz, the Elector Palatine, and the Burgrave of Nuremberg. It was agreed, on the 22d of November, 1276, that the sentence of excommunication and deprivation which had been pronounced against Ottocar and his adherents should be revoked; that he should renounce all his claims to Austria, Styria, Carinthia, Carniola, and Windischmark; that he should take the oath of allegiance, do homage for the remainder of his territories to the head of the empire, and should receive the investiture of Bohemia, Moravia, and his other fiefs. An article was also inserted, by which Ottocar promised to deliver up to Ladislaus, King of Hungary, all the places wrested from him in that kingdom. To cement this union a double marriage was to be concluded between a son and daughter of each of the two sovereigns; Rudolph engaged to give a portion of forty thousand marks of silver to his daughter, and, as a pledge for the payment, assigned to Ottocar a part of that district of Austria which lies beyond the Danube. The peace being concluded, the city of Vienna opened its gates and readily acknowledged the new sovereign.

Ottocar was obliged to submit to these humiliating conditions, and on the 25th of November, the day appointed for doing homage, crossed the Danube with a large escort of Bohemian nobles to the camp of Rudolph, and was received by the King of the Romans, in the presence of several princes of the empire. With a depressed countenance and broken spirit, which he was unable to conceal from the bystanders, he made a formal resignation of his pretensions to Austria, Styria, Carinthia, and Carniola, and, kneeling down, did homage to his rival, and obtained the investiture of Bohemia and Moravia, with the accustomed ceremonies.

Rudolph, having thus secured these valuable provinces, took possession of them as fiefs reverted to the empire, and issued a decree placing them under the government of Louis of Bavaria as vicar-general to the empire, in case of his death or during an interregnum. He at the same time established his family in the Austrian dominions, by persuading the Archbishop of Salzburg and the bishops of Passau, Freising, and Bamberg to confer on his sons, Albert, Hartman, and Rudolph, the ecclesiastical fiefs held by the dukes of Austria. His next care was to maintain the internal peace of those countries by salutary regulations; and he gained the affection of the nobles by confirming their privileges and permitting them to rebuild the fortresses which Ottocar had demolished. To superintend the execution of these regulations he fixed his residence at Vienna, where he was joined by his Queen and family.

In order to reward his retainers he was, however, compelled to lay considerable impositions on his new subjects, and to obtain free gifts from the bishop and clergy; and the discontents arising from these measures probably induced Ottocar to attempt the recovery of the territories which he had lost.

Although the King of Bohemia had taken leave of Rudolph with the strongest professions of friendship, and at different intervals had renewed his assurances of unalterable harmony, yet the humiliating conditions which he had subscribed, and the loss of such valuable provinces, filled him with resentment; his lofty spirit was still further inflamed by his queen Cunegunda, a princess of an imperious temper, who stimulated her husband with continual reproaches. He accordingly raised obstacles to the execution of the treaty, and neglected to comply with many of the conditions to which he had agreed.

Rudolph, desirous to avoid a rupture, despatched his son Albert to Prague, Ottocar received him with affected demonstrations of friendship, and even bound himself by oath to fulfil the articles of the peace. But Albert had scarcely retired from Prague before Ottocar immured in a convent the daughter he had promised to one of the sons of Rudolph, and sent a letter to the King of the Romans, filled with the most violent invectives, and charging him with a perfidious intention of renewing the war.

Rudolph returned a dignified answer to these reproaches, and prepared for the renewal of the contest which he saw was inevitable. He instantly reoccupied that part of Austria which he had yielded to Ottocar as a pledge for the portion of his daughter. He also obtained succors from the Archbishop of Salzburg, the bishops of Passau, Ratisbon, and the neighboring prelates and princes, and collected levies from Austria and Styria for the protection of Vienna. In an interview at Hainburg, on the frontiers of Austria, with Ladislaus, King of Hungary, he adopted that Prince as his son, and concluded with him an offensive and defensive alliance. Unwilling, however, to trust his hopes and fortune to his new subjects, many of whom were ready to desert him, or to allies whose fidelity and attachment were doubtful, he applied to the princes of the German empire, but had the mortification to be disappointed in his expectations. He was joined by a few only of the inferior princes; but many who had not taken part in the former war were still less inclined to support him on the present occasion; several gained by Ottocar either remained neutral or took part against him; those who expressed an inclination to serve him delayed sending their succors, and he derived no assistance even from his sons-in-law the Electors of Palatine and Saxony.

On the other hand, he was threatened with the most imminent danger, for Ottocar, who during the peace had prepared the means of gratifying his vengeance, had formed a league with Henry of Bavaria, had purchased either the neutrality or assistance of many of the German princes, had drawn auxiliaries from the chiefs of Poland, Bulgaria, Pomerania, and Magdeburg, and from the Teutonic hordes on the shores of the Baltic. He had also excited a party among the turbulent nobles of Hungary, and spread disaffection among his former subjects in Austria and Styria. In June he quitted Prague, effected a junction with his allies, directing his march toward the frontiers of Austria, carried Drosendorf, after a short siege, by storm, and, descending along the banks of the Taya, invested the fortress of Laa.

Rudolph, convinced that his cause would suffer by delay, waited with great impatience the arrival of a body of troops from Alsace, under the command of his son Albert. But as these troops did not arrive at the appointed time he was greatly agitated and disturbed, became pensive and melancholy, and frequently exclaimed that there was not one in whom he could confide or on whose advice he could depend. His household and attendants partook of his despondency. To use the words of a contemporary chronicle, "All the family of King Rudolph ran to confessors, arranged their affairs, forgave their enemies, and received the communion, for a mortal danger seemed to hang over them." The citizens of Vienna caught the contagion and began to be alarmed for their safety. Seeing him almost abandoned by his German allies, and without a sufficient army to oppose his adversaries, they requested his permission to capitulate and choose a new sovereign, that they might not be involved in his ruin. Roused from his despondency by this address, Rudolph prevailed on the citizens not to desert their sovereign; he confirmed their privileges, declared Vienna an imperial city, animated them with new spirit, and obtained from them a promise to defend the ramparts to the last extremity.

At this period he was joined by some troops from Alsace and Swabia, and particularly by his confidant and confessor, the Bishop of Basel, at the head of one hundred chosen horse, and a body of expert slingers. This small but timely reënforcement revived his confidence, and although he was privately informed that his son Albert could not supply him with further succors, and was advised not to hazard an engagement with an enemy so superior in number, he resolved to commit his fortune to the decision of arms. Turning then to the chosen body newly arrived, he addressed them with a spirit which could not fail of inspiring them with courage, and gave at the same time the most flattering testimony to their zeal and fidelity. "Remain," he said, "one day at Vienna, and refresh yourselves after the fatigues of your march, and we will then take the field. You shall be the guard of my person, and I trust that God, who has advanced me to this dignity, will not forsake me in the hour of danger."

Three days after the arrival of the Bishop of Basel Rudolph quitted Vienna, marched along the southern bank of the Danube, to Hainburg, crossed that river, and advanced to Marcheck, on the banks of the March or Morava, where he was joined by the Styrians and Carinthians, and the forces led by the King of Hungary. He instantly despatched two thousand of his Hungarian auxiliaries to reconnoitre and interrupt the operations of his adversary. They fulfilled their orders with spirit and address, for Ottocar, roused by their insults, broke up his camp, and marched to Jedensberg, within a short distance of Weidendorf, whither Rudolph had advanced.

While the two armies continued in this situation, some traitors repaired to the camp of-Rudolph and proposed to assassinate Ottocar, but Rudolph, with his characteristic magnanimity, rejecting this offer, apprised Ottocar of the danger with which he was threatened, and made overtures of reconciliation. The King of Bohemia, confident in the superiority of his force, deemed the intelligence a fabrication and the proposals of Rudolph a proof of weakness, and disdainfully refused to listen to any negotiation.

Finding all hopes of accommodation frustrated, Rudolph prepared for a conflict, in which, like Cæsar, he was not to fight for victory alone, but for life. At the dawn of day, August 26, 1278, his army was drawn up, crossed the rivulet which gives name to Weidendorf, and approached the camp of Ottocar. He ordered his troops to advance in a crescent, and attack at the same time both flanks and the front of the enemy, and then, turning to his soldiers, exhorted them to avenge the violation of the most solemn compacts and the insulted majesty of the empire, and by the efforts of that day to put an end to the tyranny, the horrors, and the massacres to which they had been so long exposed. He had scarcely finished before the troops rushed to the charge, and a bloody conflict ensued, in which both parties fought with all the fury that the presence and exertions of their sovereigns or the magnitude of the cause in which they were engaged could inspire. At length the imperial troops gained the advantage, but in the very moment of victory the life of him on whom all depended was exposed to the most imminent danger.

Several knights of superior strength and courage, animated by the rewards and promises of Ottocar, had confederated either to kill or take the King of the Romans. They rushed forward to the place where Rudolph, riding among the foremost ranks, was encouraging and leading his troops, and Herbot of Fullenstein, a Polish knight, giving spurs to his horse, made the first charge. Rudolph, accustomed to this species of combat, eluded the stroke, and, piercing his antagonist under his beaver, threw him dead to the ground. The rest followed the example of the Polish warrior, but were all slain, except Valens, a Thuringian knight of gigantic stature and strength, who, reaching the person of Rudolph, pierced his horse in the shoulder, and threw him wounded to the ground. The helmet of the King was beaten off by the shock, and being unable to rise under the weight of his armor he covered his head with his shield, till he was rescued by Berchtold Capillar, the commander of the corps of reserve, who, cutting his way through the enemy, flew to his assistance. Rudolph mounted another horse, and, heading the corps of reserve, renewed the charge with fresh courage, and his troops, animated by his presence and exertions, completed the victory.

Ottocar himself fought with no less intrepidity than his great competitor. On the total rout of his troops he disdained to quit the field, and, after performing incredible feats of valor, was overpowered by numbers, dismounted, and taken prisoner. He was instantly stripped of his armor, and killed by some Austrian and Styrian nobles whose relations he had put to death. The discomfited remains of his army, pursued by the victors, were either taken prisoners, cut to pieces, or drowned in their attempts to pass the March; and above fourteen thousand perished in this decisive engagement.

Rudolph continued on the field till the enemy were totally routed and dispersed. He endeavored to restrain the carnage, and sent messengers to save the life of Ottocar, but his orders arrived too late, and when he received an account of his death he generously lamented his fate. He did ample justice to the valor and spirit of Ottocar; in his letter to the Pope, after having described the contest and the resolution displayed by both parties either to conquer or die, he adds: "At length our troops prevailing drove the Bohemians into the neighboring river, and almost all were either cut to pieces, drowned, or taken prisoners. Ottocar, however, after seeing his army discomfited and himself left alone, still would not submit to our conquering standards, but, fighting with the strength and spirit of a giant, defended himself with wonderful courage, until he was unhorsed and mortally wounded by some of our soldiers. Then that magnanimous monarch lost his life at the same time with the victory, and was overthrown, not by our power and strength, but by the right hand of the Most High."

The body of Ottocar, deformed with seventeen wounds, was borne to Vienna, and, after being exposed to the people, was embalmed, covered with a purple pall, the gift of the Queen of the Romans, and buried in a Franciscan convent.

The plunder of the camp was immense, and Rudolph, apprehensive lest the disputes of the booty and the hope of new spoils should occasion a contest between his followers and the Hungarians, dismissed his warlike but barbarous allies with acknowledgments for their services, and pursued the war with his own forces. He took possession of Moravia without opposition, and advanced into Bohemia as far as Colin.

The recent wars, the total defeat of the army, and the death of Ottocar had rendered that country a scene of rapine and desolation. Wenceslaus, his only son, was scarcely eight years of age; and the Queen Cunegunda, a foreign princess, was without influence or power; the turbulent nobles, who had scarcely submitted to the vigorous administration of Ottocar, being without check or control, gave full scope to their licentious spirit; the people were unruly and rebellious, and not a single person in the kingdom possessed sufficient authority to assume and direct the reins of government. In this dreadful situation Cunegunda appealed to the compassion of Rudolph, and offered to place her infant son and the kingdom under his protection. In the midst of these transactions Otho, Margrave of Brandenburg and nephew of Ottocar, marched into Bohemia at the head of a considerable army, took charge of the royal treasures, secured the person of Wenceslaus, and advanced against the King of the Romans.

Rudolph, weakened by the departure of the Hungarians and thwarted by the princes of the empire, was too prudent to trust his fortune to the chance of war; he listened therefore to overtures of peace, and an accommodation was effected by arbitration. He was to retain possession of the Austrian provinces, and to hold Moravia for five years, as an indemnification for the expenses of the war; Wenceslaus was acknowledged King of Bohemia, and during his minority the regency was assigned to Otho; Rudolph, second son of the Emperor, was to espouse the Bohemian princess Agnes; and his two daughters, Judith and Hedwige, were affianced to the King of Bohemia and to Otho the Less, brother of the Margrave. In consequence of this agreement Rudolph withdrew from Bohemia, and in 1280 returned to Vienna in triumph. Being delivered from the most powerful of his enemies, and relieved from all further apprehensions by the weak and distracted state of Bohemia, he directed his principal aim to secure the Austrian territories for his own family. With this view he compelled Henry of Bavaria, under the pretext of punishing his recent connection with Ottocar, to cede Austria above the Ems, and to accept in return the districts of Scharding, Neuburg, and Freistadt as the dowry of his wife.

But, though master of all the Austrian territories, he experienced great difficulties in transferring them to his family. Some claimants of the Bamberg line still existed: Agnes, daughter of Gertrude and wife of Ulric of Heunburg, and the two sons of Constantia by Albert of Misnia. Those provinces were likewise coveted by Louis, Count Palatine of the Rhine, and by his brother Henry of Bavaria, as having belonged to their ancestors, and by Meinhard of Tyrol, from whom he had derived such essential assistance, in virtue of his marriage with Elizabeth, widow of the emperor Conrad and sister of the Dukes of Bavaria. The Misnian princes, however, having received a compensation from Ottocar, withheld their pretensions, and Rudolph purchased the acquiescence of Agnes and her husband by a sum of money and a small cession of territory. He likewise eluded the demands of the Bavarian princes and of Meinhard by referring them to the decision of the German diet, In the mean time he conciliated, by acts of kindness and liberality, his new subjects, and obtained from the states of the duchy a declaration that all the lands possessed by Frederick the Warlike belonged to the Emperor, or to whomsoever he should grant them as fiefs, saving the rights of those who within a given time should prosecute their claims. He then intrusted his son Albert with the administration, convoked, on August 9, 1281, a diet at Nuremberg, at which he presided in person, and obtained a decree annulling all the acts and deeds of Richard of Cornwall and his predecessors, since the deposition of Frederick II, except such as had been approved by a majority of the electors. In consequence of this decree another was passed specifically in-validating the investiture of the Austrian provinces, which in 1262 was obtained from Richard of Cornwall by Ottocar.

Carinthia having been unjustly occupied by Ottocar, in contradiction to the rights of Philip, Archbishop of Salzburg, brother of Ulric, the last duke, the claims of Philip were acknowledged by Rudolph, and he took his seat at the Diet of Augsburg as Duke of Carinthia. On the conquest of that duchy he petitioned for the investiture, but Rudolph delayed complying with his request under various pretences, and, Philip dying without issue in 1279, the duchy escheated to the empire as a vacant fief.

Rudolph, being at length in peaceable possession of these territories, gradually obtained the consent of the electors, and at the Diet of Augsburg, in December, 1282, conferred jointly on his two sons, Albert and Rudolph, Austria, Styria, Carinthia, and Carniola. But at their desire he afterward resumed Carinthia, and bestowed it on Meinhard of Tyrol, to whom he had secretly promised a reward for his services, and in 1286 obtained the consent of the electors to this donation. By the request of the states of Austria (1283), he declared that duchy and Styria an inalienable and indivisible domain to be held on the same terms, and with the same rights and privileges, as possessed by the ancient dukes, Leopold and Frederick the Warlike, and vested the sole administration in Albert, assigning a specific revenue to Rudolph and his heirs, if he did not obtain another sovereignty within the space of four years.

EDWARD I CONQUERS WALES

A.D. 1277

CHARLES H. PEARSON

Up to the time of Edward I, Wales, which had been partially subdued by Henry I, was a source of continual disturbance to the English kingdom. Long before the accession of Edward, the greater part of Welsh territory was parcelled out into little English principalities. Under John and Henry III, Llewelyn the Great, Prince of Wales, maintained his independence until 1237, three years before his death, when he submitted in order to secure the succession of his son David. Upon David's death, in 1246, the principality of Wales was divided between Llewelyn and Owen the Red, sons of Griffith ap Llewelyn, David's illegitimate brother. Civil war soon followed, and in 1224 Llewelyn made himself master of the land.

Llewelyn might have reached absolute independence had he not taken part with Simon de Montfort in the barons' war against Henry III. With the defeat and death of Montfort at Evesham (1265) the prospect of a new Welsh sovereignty vanished; Llewelyn purchased a peace and was recognized by Henry as prince of Wales, retaining a part of his territories.

When Llewelyn was summoned as a vassal of the English crown to the coronation of Edward I (1274), he refused. Twice again was he summoned to do homage to the King, but still evaded the summons. Upon his final refusal to come to the parliament of 1276, his lands were declared to be forfeited, and in 1277 Edward led an army into Wales.

The whole force of the realm was summoned to meet at Worcester in June, 1277, and so well was the command obeyed that Edward found himself able to dispose of three armies. With the first he himself operated along the north, opening a safe road through the Cheshire forests, and fortifying Flint and Rhuddlan, while the ships of the Cinque Ports hovered along the coast and ravaged Anglesey. The corps d'armée, under the Earl of Lincoln and Roger Mortimer, besieged and reduced Dolvorwyn castle in Montgomeryshire. The third was led into Cardigan by Payne de Chaworth, who ravaged the country with such vigor that the South Welsh—being probably disaffected to a prince not of their own lineage—surrendered the castle of Stradewi and made a general submission.

Edward had avoided the fatal errors of previous commanders, who had risked their forces in a barren and difficult country. His blockade was so well sustained that Llewelyn was starved, rather than beaten, into unconditional submission.

With singular moderation, Edward had declined receiving the homage of the southern chiefs. He now granted Llewelyn honorable terms, November 5, 1277. A fine of fifty thousand pounds was imposed to mark the greatness of the victory, but remitted next day out of the King's grace. Four border cantreds,[72] old possessions of the English crown, which Llewelyn had wrested from it in the wars of the late reign, were to be surrendered to the English King, who already occupied them. Prisoners in the English interests were to be set free, and Llewelyn was to come under "an honorable" safe-conduct to London and perform homage. Edward had promised David [73] half the principality, but with a reservation at the time that he might, if he chose, give him compensation elsewhere. He now elected to do this, moved, it would seem, simply by the wish not to dismember Llewelyn's dominions, and David was made governor of Denbigh castle, married to the Earl of Derby's daughter, and endowed with extensive estates. In every other respect Llewelyn was tenderly dealt with. The hostages exacted were sent back. The rent of one thousand marks stipulated for Anglesey was remitted. When the Prince of Wales came to London to perform homage he received the last favor of all, and was married sumptuously, at the King's cost, to Lady Eleanor de Montfort.

There is no reason for supposing that Edward cherished any covert plans of absorbing Wales into England. Having wiped out the dishonor of his early years, and replaced England in its old position of ascendency, he had no motive for reviving bitter memories or dispossessing a great noble of his fief. The King's conduct in giving his cousin to one who was only her equal through a usurped royalty; the inquests held in the marches to determine border law; the instructions to the royal judges, to judge according to local customs; the special commission appointed when Llewelyn thought himself aggrieved are curious evidence of fair-mindedness in a strong-willed and almost absolute sovereign. But in one respect Edward was ill-fitted to deal with an uncivilized people. He was overstrict for the times even in England, where his subjects almost learned, before he died, to regret the anarchy of his father's reign. But his officers were nowhere harsher than in Wales, where the people, unaccustomed to a minute legality, complained that they were worse treated than Saracens or Jews. Old offences were raked up; wrecking was made punishable; the legal taxes were aggravated by customary payments; and distresses were levied on the first goods that came to hand, whether Llewelyn's own or his subjects'.

The people of the four annexed cantreds were soon ripe for rebellion, David was alienated from the English cause by petty quarrels with Reginald Gray, Justice of Chester, who insisted on making him answer before the English courts, hanged some of his vassals, and carried a military road through his woods. The Welsh gentlemen complained that they were removed from offices which they had purchased, brought to justice for old offences which ought to have been condoned by the peace, and deprived of their jurisdiction in local courts. For a time the lady Eleanor tried to mediate between her husband and her cousin. But it was impossible that a stern, just man like Edward, penetrated with the most advanced doctrine of European legists and deriving his information from English employés, should be able to understand the position of the chief of a semibarbarous nationality, who thought outrages on law matters to be atoned for by fines, while he brooded with implacable rancor over every slight, real or fancied, to his own position as prince of Wales, representative of a dynasty that had ruled "since the time of Camber the son of Brutus."

Moreover, Llewelyn thought, perhaps unreasonably, that he had been betrayed by Edward. He said that on the day of his marriage the English King had forced him to subscribe a document to the effect that he would never harbor an English exile or maintain forces against Edward's will. There was little in all this that was not implied in Llewelyn's position as vassal, and he himself did not complain that the conditions had ever been offensively pressed. A king who had granted such liberal terms as Edward might perhaps claim, with reason, that his conquered vassal should never threaten him with hostilities. But the offence was none the less deadly, that it was justified by the relations of subject and sovereign.

A curious superstition precipitated an outbreak, In the time of Henry I some Norman had fabricated the so-called prophecies of Merlin, which were designed to reconcile the Welsh to the Norman Conquest. Henry was designated in them as the lion of justice, and it was given as a sign of his reign that the symbol of commerce would be split and the half be round. The prophecy had already been fulfilled by the regulation for breaking coin at the mint, and making the half-penny a round piece by itself. In 1279 Edward issued the farthing as an entire coin. The change recalled the memory of Merlin's prophecy; and the vague oracles, that had been compiled to describe Henry's dominion over the Saxons, were easily interpreted to mean that a Welsh prince should be crowned at London, and retrieve what its natives regarded as the lost dominion of the principality.

Llewelyn, it is said, consulted a witch, who assured him that he should ride crowned through Westcheap. But the Prince of Wales also relied on less visionary assurances. The "quo-warranto" commission was prosecuting its labors vigorously, and had produced a widespread discontent in England, where men said openly that the King would not suffer them to reap their own corn or mow their grass. Llewelyn was in correspondence with the malcontents, and received promises of support. His brother David was easily induced to join the rebellion, and began it on Palm Sunday, 1282, by storming the castle of Hawarden, and making Roger de Clifford, its lord and Edward's sheriff, his prisoner. Flint and Rhuddlan were next reduced, and the Welsh spread over the marches, waging a war of singular ferocity, slaying, and even burning, young and old women and sick people in the villages. The rebellion found Edward unprepared, but he met it with equal vigor and efficiency. Making Shrewsbury his head-quarters, and moving the exchequer and king's bench to it, he summoned troops not only from all England, but from Gascony.

It is possible that the foreign recruits were intended to strengthen the King's hands against subjects of doubtful fidelity, but no real embarrassment from the disaffected was sustained. The troops mustered operated in two armies, which started from Rhuddlan and Worcester, and enclosed Llewelyn, as before, from north and south. Meanwhile the ships of the Cinque Ports reduced Anglesey, "the noblest feather in Llewelyn's wing," as Edward joyfully observed. But the King was faithful to his old policy of a blockade. A bridge of ships was thrown across the Menai Straits, and the forests between Wales proper and the English border were hewn down by an army of pioneers. The King's banner, the golden dragon, showed that quarter would be given.

As the war lasted on, negotiations were attempted; and the Archbishop of Canterbury, who had threatened the last sentence of the Church against Llewelyn and his adherents, was sent over to Snowdon to hold a conference. Llewelyn had already been warned that it was idle to expect assistance from Rome. He was now summoned to submit at discretion, with a hope—so expressed as to be a promise—that he and the natives of the revolted districts would have mercy shown them. In private he was informed that, on condition of surrendering Wales, he should receive a county in England and a pension of one thousand pounds a year. David was to go to the Holy Land, and not return except by the King's permission. These terms were undoubtedly hard, but could not be called unreasonable, as, by the subjugation of Anglesey, the principality was reduced to the two modern counties of Merionethshire and Carnarvonshire. Llewelyn and his barons preferred to die fighting sword in hand for position and liberty. The Primate excommunicated them and withdrew.

About the time of this interview, November 6th, there was a sharp skirmish at Bangor. Some of the Earl of Gloucester's troops crossed over before the bridge was completed, except for low-water mark, and were surprised and routed, with the loss of their leader and fourteen bannerets, by the Welsh. This encouraged Llewelyn to resume offensive operations, and he poured troops into Cardigan to ravage the lands of a Welshman in the English interest. The English forces in Radnor marched up along the left bank of the Wye, and came in sight of the enemy at Buelth, December 10th. Llewelyn was surprised during a reconnaissance and killed by an English knight, Stephen de Frankton. After a short but brilliant encounter, in which the English charged up the brow of a hill and routed the enemy with loss, they examined the dead bodies, and for the first time knew that Llewelyn was among the slain. A letter was found on his person giving a list, in false names, of the English nobles with whom he was in correspondence, but either the cipher was undiscoverable or the matter was hushed up by the King's discretion.

Llewelyn, dying under church ban, was denied Christian sepulture. His head, crowned with a garland of silver ivy-leaves, was carried on the point of a lance through London, and exposed on the battlements of the Tower. The prophecy that he should ride crowned through London had been fatally fulfilled.

With the death of Llewelyn the Welsh war was virtually at an end. With all his faults of temper and judgment, he had shown himself a man of courage and capacity, who identified his own cause with his people's. But David, though now implicated in the rebellion beyond hope of pardon, had fought under the English banner against his countrymen, with the wish to dismember the principality. The Welsh cannot be accused of fickleness if they became languid in a struggle against overwhelming power and a king who had shown them more tenderness than their leader for the time. David's one castle of Bere was starved into surrender by the Earl of Pembroke, and David himself taken in a bog by some Welsh in the English interest. His last remaining adherent, Rees ap Walwayn, surrendered, on hearing of his lord's captivity, and was sent prisoner to the Tower. For David himself a sadder fate was reserved. His request for a personal interview with his injured sovereign was refused. Edward did not care to speak with a man whom he had no thought of pardoning. He at once summoned a parliament of barons, judges, and burgesses to meet at Shrewsbury, September 29th, and decide on the prisoner's fate. It is evident that Edward was incensed in no common measure against the traitor whom, as he expressed it, he had "taken up as an exile, nourished as an orphan, endowed from his own lands, and placed among the lords of our palace," and who had repaid these benefits by a sudden and savage war.

Nevertheless, the King, from policy or from temperament, resolved to associate the whole nation in a great act of justice on a man of princely lineage. The sentence, which excited no horror at the time, was probably passed without a dissentient voice. David was sentenced, as a traitor, to be drawn slowly to the gallows; as a murderer, to be hanged; as one who had shed blood during Passion-tide, to be disembowelled after death; and for plotting the King's death, his dismembered limbs were to be sent to Winchester, York, Northampton, and Bristol. Seldom has a shameful and violent death been better merited than by a double-dyed traitor like David, false by turns to his country and his king; nor could justice be better honored than by making the last penalty of rebellion fall upon the guilty Prince, rather than on his followers.

The form of punishment in itself was mitigated from the extreme penalty of the law, which prescribed burning for traitors. Compared with the execution under the Tudors and Stuarts, or with the reprisal taken after Culloden, the single sentence of death carried out on David seems scarcely to challenge criticism. Yet it marks a decline from the almost bloodless policy of former kings. Since the times of William Rufus no English noble, except under John, had paid the penalty of rebellion with life. In particular, during the late reign, Fawkes de Breaute and the adherents of Simon de Montfort had been spared by men flushed with victory and exasperated with a long strife. There were some circumstances to palliate David's treachery, if, as is probable, his charges against the English justiciary have any truth. We may well acquit Edward of that vilest infirmity of weak minds, which confounds strength with ferocity and thinks that the foundations of law can be laid in blood. He probably received David's execution as a measure demanded by justice and statesmanship, and in which the whole nation was to be associated with its king. Never was court of justice more formally constituted; but it was a fatal precedent for himself, and the weaker, worse men who succeeded him. From that time, till within the last century, the axe of the executioner has never been absent from English history.

Edward was resolved to incorporate Wales with England. The children of Llewelyn and David were honorably and safely disposed of in monasteries, from which they never seem to have emerged. The great Welsh lords who had joined the rebellion were punished with deprivation of all their lands. Out of the conquered territory Denbigh and Ruthyn seem to have been made into march lordships under powerful Englishmen. Anglesey and the land of Snowdon, Llewelyn's territories of Carnarvon and Merionethshire, with Flint, Cardigan, and Carmarthenshire, were kept in the hands of the Crown. The Welsh divisions of commotes were retained, and several of these constituted a sheriffdom, which bore pretty much the same relation to an English shire that a Territory bears to a State in the American Union. The new districts were also brought more completely under English law than the marches, which retained their privileges and customs.

The changes, where we can trace them, seem to have been for the better. The blood-feud was abolished; widows obtained a dower; bastards were no longer to inherit; and in default of heirs male in the direct line, daughters were allowed to inherit. On the other hand, fines were to be assessed according to local custom; compurgation was retained for unimportant cases and inheritances were to remain divisible among all heirs male.

The ordinance that contains these dispositions is no parliamentary statute, but seems to have been drawn up by the King in council, March 24, 1284. It was based on the report of a commission which examined one hundred and seventy-two witnesses. Soon afterward an inquest was ordered to ascertain the losses sustained by the Church in Wales, with a view to giving it compensation.

Nor did Edward neglect appeals to the national sentiment. The supposed body of Constantine was disinterred at Carnarvon, and received honorable burial in a church. The crown of Arthur and a piece of the holy Cross, once the property of the Welsh princes, were added to the King's regalia. It was probably by design that Queen Eleanor was confined at Carnarvon, April 25, 1284, of a prince whom the Welsh might claim as a countryman.[74] At last, having lingered for more than a year about the principality, Edward celebrated the consummation of his conquests, August 1, 1284, by a splendid tournament at Nefyn, to which nobles and knights flocked from every part of England and even from Gascony. It was even more a demonstration of strength than a pageant.

The cost of the Welsh campaign must have been enormous, and it is difficult to understand how Edward met it. But no sort of expedient was spared. Commissioners were sent through England and Ireland to beg money of clergy and laity. Next, the cities of Guienne and Gascony were applied to; then, the money that had been collected for a crusade was taken out of the consecrated places where it was deposited. The treasures put in the Welsh churches were freely confiscated. Nevertheless, the Parliament of Shrewsbury granted the King a thirtieth, from which, however, the loans previously advanced were deducted. In return for this the King passed the Statute of Merchants, which made provisions for the registration of merchants' debts, their recovery by distraint, and the debtor's imprisonment. The clergy had at first been less compliant when the King applied to them for a tenth. The Convocation of the Province of Canterbury, April, 1283, replied that they were impoverished; that they still owed a fifteenth, and that they expected to be taxed again by the Pope. They also reminded him bitterly of the Statute of Mortmain. Ultimately the matter was compromised by the grant of a twentieth, November, 1283.

[Illustration: King Edward I fulfills his promise of giving the Welsh "a native prince who could not speak one word of English" Painting by Ph. Morris.]

For a few years Wales was still an insecure portion of the English dominion. In 1287, Rees ap Meredith, whose services to Edward had been largely rewarded with grants of land and a noble English wife, commenced levying war against the king's sheriff. His excuse was that his baronial rights had been encroached upon; but as he had once risked forfeiture by preferring a forcible entry to the execution of the king's writ which had been granted him, we may probably assume that he claimed powers inconsistent with English sovereignty. After foiling the Earl of Cornwall in a costly campaign, Rees, finding himself outlawed, fled, by the Earl of Gloucester's complicity, into Ireland. Some years later he returned to resume his war with Robert de Tiptoft, but this time was taken prisoner and executed at York by Edward's orders, 1292.

More dangerous by far was the insurrection of two years later, 1294, when the Welsh, irritated by a tax, and believing that Edward had sailed for France, rose up throughout the crown lands and slew one of the collectors, Roger de Pulesdon. Madoc, a kinsman of Llewelyn, was put forward as king, and his troops burned Carnarvon castle and inflicted a severe defeat on the English forces sent to relieve Denbigh, November 10th. Edward now took the field in person, and resumed his old policy of cutting down the forests as he forced his way into the interior. The Welsh fought well, and between disease and fighting the English lost many hundred men. Once the King was surrounded at Conway, his provisions intercepted, and his road barred by a flood; but his men could not prevail on him to drink out of the one cask of wine that had been saved. "We will all share alike," he said, "and I, who have brought you into this strait, will have no advantage of you in food." The flood soon abated, and, reinforcements coming up, the Welsh were dispersed. Faithful to his policy of mercy, the King spared the people everywhere, but hanged three of their captains who were taken prisoners. Madoc lost heart, made submission, and was admitted to terms. Meanwhile, Morgan, another Welshman of princely blood, had headed a war in the marches against the Earl of Gloucester, who was personally unpopular with his vassals. Two years before the earldom had been confiscated into the King's hands, and it is some evidence that Edward's rule was not oppressive, by comparison with that of his lords, that the marchmen now desired to be made vassals of the crown. Morgan is said to have been hunted down by his old confederate, Madoc, but it seems more probable that he was the first to sue for peace. He was pardoned without reserve.

As there was then war with Scotland, hostages were taken from the Welsh chiefs, and were kept in English castles for several years. But the last lesson had proved effectual. The Welsh settled down peaceably on their lands and generally adopted the English customs. Except a few great lords, their gentry were still the representatives of their old families. Only five men in all had received the last punishment of the law for sanguinary rebellions extending over eighteen years of the King's reign. Of any massacre of the bards, or any measures taken to repress them, history knows nothing.

Never was conquest more merciful than Edward's, and the fault lies with his officers, not with the King, if many years still passed before the old quarrel between Wales and England was obliterated from the hearts of the conquered people.

JAPANESE REPEL THE TARTARS

A.D. 1281

E.H. PARKER

MARCO POLO

Kublai Khan, the first of the Mongol emperors who reigned at Peking, and Kameyama, the ninetieth emperor—as reputed—of Japan, are supposed to have come to their respective thrones in the same year, 1260. At this period the Japanese rulers (mikados) were mere puppets in the hands of their shoguns—hereditary commanders-in-chief of the army—and the shoguns themselves were tools of the regents of the Hojo dynasty.

Corea had lately been made tributary to the Tartar or Mongol power, when some of the Coreans in the service of Kublai Khan suggested to him that his way was now open to Japan, 1265. Next year Kublai selected a chief envoy whose name, as Parker says, appears in Chinese characters precisely the same as that of Sir Robert Hart,[75] and whom the author of the narrative immediately following, in order to avoid uncouth names, designates as "Hart." By this envoy Kublai sent a letter to Japan, and this act was the beginning of the execution of his designs against that country, formed upon the advice of the Coreans. In this letter the Mongol Emperor called upon Japan to return to the vassal duty which for centuries, he claimed, she had formerly owned to China. —EDWARD HARPER PARKER

The King of Corea, who had meanwhile been instructed to show the road to the Mongol mission, provided it with two high officers as escort. In 1267, however, Hart and his staff returned to Peking from their wanderings, re injecta, faithfully accompanied by their Corean guides, whose explanations as to why the goal had not been reached were by no means satisfactory to Kublai. The whole party was despatched once more to Corea, carrying with them to the King positive instructions "to succeed better this time."

The wily King of Corea now adopted another tack. He pleaded that the sea-route was beset with dangers to which it would be unseemly to expose the person of an imperial envoy, but he accommodatingly sent the Emperor's letter on to Japan by an envoy of his own. This Corean envoy was detained half a year by the Japanese, but he had also to return empty-handed. Meanwhile the King of Corea sent his own brother on a special mission to Kublai, to endeavor to mollify his Tartar majesty.

In the autumn of 1268 Hart and his former assistant colleague were sent a third time. As a surveying party had meanwhile been examining the sea-route by way of Quelpaert Island, the mission was enabled to reach the Tsushima Islands this time; but the local authority would not suffer them to land, or at least to stay, nor were the letters accepted, as, in the opinion of the Japanese, "the phraseology was not considered sufficiently modest." Once more the unsuccessful mission returned to Peking, but on this occasion it was with two Japanese "captives"—probably spies; for there is plenty of evidence that even then the art was well understood in Japan. In the summer of 1269 it was resolved to utilize these captives as a peg whereon to hang the conciliatory and virtuous act of returning them. Coreans were intrusted with this mission; but even this letter the Japanese declined to receive, and the envoys were detained a considerable time in the official prisons at Dazai Fu (in Chikuzen).

Early in the year 1270 a Manchu Tartar in Kublai's employ, named Djuyaoka, who had already been employed as a kind of resident or adviser at the court of the King of Corea, was despatched on a solemn mission to Japan, having earnestly volunteered for his new service in spite of his gray hairs. The King of Corea was again ordered to assist, and a Corean in Chinese employ, named Hung Ts'a-k'iu (Marco Polo's Von-Sanichin), was told to demonstrate with a fleet around the Liao-Tung and Corean peninsulas. The envoy is usually called by his adopted Chinese name of Chao Liang-Pih. The mission landed in the spring of 1271 at an island called Golden Ford, which, according to the Chinese characters, ought, I suppose, to be pronounced Kananari in Japanese. Here the strangers met with a very rough reception. The Tartar, however, kept his head well during the various attempts which were made to frighten him; he pointed out the historical precedents to be found in the annals of previous Chinese dynasties, and firmly declined to surrender his credentials except at the chief seat of government, and to the king or ruler in person. It seems that even the Japanese now began to see that the "honest broker," Corea, was playing false to both sides; at all events, they said that "Corea had reported the imminence of a Chinese attack, whereas Kublai's language seemed to deprecate war." Officials from head-quarters explained that "from ancient times till now, no foreign envoy has ever gone east of the Dazai Fu." The reply to this was: "If I cannot see your ruler, you had better take him my head; but you shall not have my documents." The Japanese pleaded that it was too far to the ruler's capital, but that in the mean time they would send officers back with him to China. He was thereupon sent back to await events at Tsushima, and, having remained there a year, he arrived back in Peking in the summer of 1273. In escorting him to Tsushima, the Japanese had sent with him a number of secondary officials to have an audience of Kublai; it appears that the Japanese had been alarmed at the establishment of a Mongol garrison at Kin Chow (I suppose the one near Port Arthur, then within Corean dominions); and the Tartar envoy, during his stay in Tsushima, now sent on these Japanese "envoys" (or spies) in advance, advising Kublai at the same time to humor Japanese susceptibilities by removing the Kin Chow garrison. The cabinet council suggested to Kublai that it would be a good thing to explain to the Japanese envoys that the occupation of Kin Chow was "only temporary," and would be removed so soon as the operations now in process against Quelpaert were at an end. It is related that the "Japanese interpreters"—which probably means Chinese accompanying the Japanese—explained to Kublai that it was quite unnecessary to go round via Corea, and that with a good wind it was possible to reach Japan in a very short time. Kublai said, "Then I must think it over afresh." Late in the year 1273 the same Tartar envoy was once more sent to Japan, but it is not stated by what route or where he first landed; this time he really reached the Dazai Fu, or capital of Chikuzen. In the same year, and possibly in connection with the above mission, a Chinese general, Lu T'ung, with a force of forty thousand men in nine hundred boats, defeated one hundred thousand Japanese—it is not stated where. I am inclined to think, from the consonance of the word Liu and the nine hundred boats, that this must be the affair mentioned lower down. The Manchu Tartar envoy seems to have been a very sensible sort of man, for not only did he bring back with him full details of the names and titles of the Mikado and his ministers, descriptions of the cities and districts, particulars of national customs, local products, etc., but also strongly dissuaded Kublai from engaging in a useless war with Japan; and he also gave some excellent advice to the celebrated Mongol general Bayen, who was just then preparing to "finish off" the southern provinces of China. It may not be generally known, but it is a fact that Bayen himself, in the late autumn of 1273, had been originally destined for the Japanese expedition, and the prisoners captured at the first attack on Siaag-yang Fu (Marco Polo's Sa-yan Fu) had already been handed over to him for service in Japan. The Mongol history also gives a full copy of the letter sent to Japan on this occasion. In it Kublai expresses his surprise at the persistent ignoring by Japan of his successive missions; he charitably suggests that "perhaps the fresh troubles and revolutions in Corea, which have now once more been settled, are more to blame than your own deliberate intentions." The menace of war was a little stronger than in the letter of 1266, but was still decently veiled and somewhat guarded. Before starting, the Manchu had requested that the etiquette to be observed at his audience with the ruler might be laid down. The cabinet council, to be on the safe side, advised: "As the relative ranks prevailing in the country are unknown to us, we have no definite etiquette to specify." On the other hand, both Kublai and his ministers were much too sharp to believe in the power of the "guard-house west of the Dazai Fu," and they came to the sensible conclusion that the Japanese "envoys" were simply war-spies sent by the supreme Japanese government itself.

Chinese history does not explain why, amid the conflicting counsels exposed above, and others mentioned in biographical chapters, Kublai decided to attack Japan at the very moment when Bayen was marching upon South China; but, anyway, during the year 1274, large numbers of Manchus were raised for service in Japan, and placed under General Hung. (Sani-chin may perhaps stand for the Chinese word Tsiang-chun, or "general.") It appears that, toward the end of that year, fifteen thousand men in nine hundred ships made a raid upon some point in Japan; but, although "a victory" is claimed, no details whatever are given beyond the facts that "our army showed a lack of order; the arrows were exhausted; we achieved nothing beyond plundering." The three islands raided were Tsushima, Iki, and one I cannot identify, described in Chinese as I-man.

The Japanese annals confirm the attack upon Tsushima and Iki, adding that the enemy slew all the males and carried off all the females in the two islands, but were unsuccessful in their advance upon the Dazai Fu. The enemy's general, Liu Fu-heng, was slain; the enemy numbered thirty thousand. The slain officer was, perhaps, a relative of Liu T'ung, who served again in China.

In the year 1275 two more envoys bearing Chinese names were sent with letters to Japan, "but they also got no reply." The Japanese annals confirm this, and add that "they came to discuss terms of peace, but their envoy, Tu Shi-chung—whose name corresponds—was decapitated." This is true, but he was not decapitated until 1280, and, as is well known to competent students, Japanese history is always open to suspicion when it conflicts with Chinese, and too often "touches up" from Chinese.

In 1277 some merchants from Japan appeared in China with a quantity of gold, which they desired to exchange for copper cash. The following year the "coast authorities"—probably meaning at Ningpo and Wenchow, where even now, as I found in 1884, immense quantities of old Japanese copper cash are in daily use—were instructed to permit Japanese trade. But preparations for war still went on, and the head-quarters of the army were fixed at Liao-yang, where General Kuropatkin fixed his more recently. Naval preparations were particularly active during 1279, and Corea was invited to make arrangements for boats to be built in that country, where timber was so plentiful—evidently alluding to the Russian "concessions" on the Yalu. Large numbers of ships were also constructed in Central China. During this year a defeated Chinese general in Mongol employ, named Fan Wen-hu, advised that the war against Japan should be postponed "until the result of our mission, accompanied by the Japanese priest carrying our letters, shall be known." When this priest was appointed, by whom, and to do what, there is nothing to show. To a certain extent this enigmatical sentence is supported by the Japanese annals, which announce that "in the summer of 1279 the Mongol generals Hia Kwei and Fan Wen-hu came and sent aides-de-camp to Dazai Fu to discuss peace, but Tokimune (the regent) had them decapitated at Hakata in Chikuzen."

Hia Kwei was certainly another defeated Chinese general, but I do not think he ever went to Japan. It is in the spring of 1280 that the Chinese record the execution by the Japanese of "Tu Shi-chung," etc. But it is quite evident that Fan Wen-hu cannot possibly have been executed in 1279, for later on, in 1280, after Hung Ts'a-k'iu and others had been appointed to the Japan expedition, "it was decided to wait a little, and Fan Wen-hu was consulted as to the best means of attack; meanwhile prisoners of war, criminals, Mussulmans, etc., were enlisted, and volunteers were called for." It is difficult to account for "Mussulmans" in such company, for the villanous "Saracen" Achmat was just then at the height of his power. The King of Corea meanwhile personally paid a visit to Peking, and gave the assurance that he was raising thirty thousand extra soldiers to serve in the Japan war. Fan Wen-hu was now placed in supreme command of one hundred thousand men. "The King of Corea with ten thousand soldiers, fifteen thousand sea-men, nine hundred war-ships, and one hundred and ten thousand hundred-weight of grain, proceeded against Japan. Hung Ts'a-k'iu and his colleagues were provided with weapons, Corean armor, jackets, etc. The troops were given strict instructions not to harass the inhabitants of Corea. Corean generals received high rank, and the King was given extra honors."

In 1281 the generals Hung Ts'a-k'iu and Hintu (a Ouigour Turk) went in command of a naval force of forty thousand men via "Kin Chouin Corea." Another force of one hundred thousand men was sent across the sea from modern Ningpo and Tinghai, the two forces arranging to meet at the islands of Iki and Hirado.

Alouhan (a Mongol) and Fan Wen-hu received in anticipation the honorary titles of "Left and Right Governors of Japan province"; and when they and the other generals took leave of Kublai, the Emperor said: "As they had sent us envoys first, we also sent envoys thither; but then they kept our envoys, and would not let them go; hence I send you, gentlemen, on this errand. I understand the Chinese say that when you take another people's country, you need to get both the people and the land. If you go and slay all the people, and only secure the land, what use is that? There is another matter, upon which I feel truly anxious—that is, I fear want of harmony among you, gentlemen! If the natives of that country come to discuss any matter with you, gentlemen, you should join your minds for one common plan, and reply as though one mouth only had to speak."

When the army, after a week's sail from Tinghai, reached the islands of Ku-tsi (off Masanpho) and Tsushima, some Japanese stranded fishermen were caught and forced to sketch a map of the localities; and meanwhile it had been agreed that the island of Iki was a better rendezvous than "Kin Chou in Corea," on account of the then prevailing winds. From the Japanese sailors' sketch it appeared that a little west of the Dazai Fu was the island of Hirado, which, being surrounded on all sides with plenty of water, afforded a good anchorage for the ships. It was decided—subject, apparently, to Kublai's approval—to occupy Hirado first, and then summon General Hung, etc., from Iki, to join in a general attack. Kublai replied by the messenger in effect: "I cannot judge here of the situation there. I presume Alouhan and his colleagues ought to know, and they must decide for themselves."

Meanwhile Alouhan—written also Alahan—had fallen sick, and died at Ningpo, and another Mongol, named Atahai—written also Antahai—was sent to replace him. Now comes the sudden collapse of the whole expedition, recorded, unfortunately, in most laconic and unsatisfactory terms.

1. Chapter on Japan.—"Eighth moon. The generals, having before coming in sight of the enemy lost their entire force, got back. They said that, 'having reached Japan, they wished to attack Dazai Fu, but that a violent wind smashed the ships. That they were still bent on discussing operations, when three of the commanders [Chinese names] declined to accept their orders any more, and made off. The provincial staff conveyed the rest of the army to Hoh P'u [probably = Masanpho], whence they were dismissed back to their homes.' But one of the defeated soldiers, who succeeded in escaping home, gave the following account: 'The imperial armies in the 6th moon put to sea. In the 7th moon they reached Hirado Island, and then moved to Five Dragon Mountains [the Japanese pronunciation would be Go-riu Shima, or Yama, and perhaps it means the Goto Islands]. On the 1st of the 8th moon the wind smashed the ships. On the 5th day Fan Wen-hu and the other generals each made selection of the soundest and best boats, and got into them, and abandoned the soldiers, to the number of over one hundred thousand, at the foot of the hills. The soldiers then agreed to select the centurion Chang as general in command, and styled him 'General Chang,' submitting themselves to his orders. They were just engaged in cutting down trees to make boats to come back in, when, on the 7th day, the Japanese came and gave battle. All were killed except 20,000 or 30,000 who were carried off prisoners. On the 9th day these got to the Eight Horn Islands [the Japanese pronunciation would be Hakkaku Shima], where all the Mongols, Coreans, and men of Han [—North China] were massacred. As it was understood that the newly recruited army consisted of men of T'ang [= Cantonese, etc.], they were not killed, but turned into slaves, of whom deponent was one. The trouble arose from want of harmony and subordination in the general staff, in consequence of which they abandoned the troops and returned. After some time two other stragglers got back; that is out of a host of 100,000 only three ever returned.'"

2. Chapter on the Ouigour General, Siang-wei.—"In 1281 the sea-force of 100,000 men under Fan Wen-hu, etc., took seven days and nights to reach Bamboo Island [the Japanese pronunciation would be Chikushima; perhaps is another form of Tsushima], where they effected a junction with the forces of the provincial staff from Liao-yang. It was the intention to first attack the Dazai Fu, but there was vacillation and indecision. On the 1st day of the 8th moon a great typhoon raged, and 60 or 70 per cent. of the army perished. The Emperor was furious, etc."

3. Chapter on Li T'ing, a Shan Tung man, who was on Fan Wen-hu's staff.—"In 1281 the army encamped on Bamboo Island, but, a storm arising, the vessels were all smashed. Li T'ing escaped ashore on a piece of wreckage, collected the remains of the host, and returned via Corea to Peking. Only 10 to 20 per cent. of the soldiers escaped alive [apparently referring to the 40,000, not to the 100,000]."

4. Chapter on the Chih-Li-man-Chang-Hi.—"He accompanied Fan Wen-hu and Li T'ing with the naval force which crossed the sea against Japan. Chang Hi, on arrival, at once left his boats, and set to work intrenching on the island of Hirado. He also kept his war-ships at anchor at a cable's length from each other, so as to avoid the destructive action of wind and waves. When the great typhoon arose in the 8th moon, the galleons of Fan and Li were all smashed; only Chang Hi's escaped uninjured. When Fan Wen-hu, etc., suggested going back, Chang Hi said: 'Half the soldiers are drowned, but those who have escaped death are all sturdy troops. Surely it is better for us to take advantage of this moment, before they have begun to think regretfully of home, to live on the enemy's country and advance?' Fan Wen-hu, etc., would not agree to this and said: 'When we see the Emperor, we will bear all the blame; you have no share in it.' Chang Hi gave them a number of his boats. At that instant there were 4,000 soldiers encamped on Hirado Island without any boats. Chang Hi said, 'How can I bear to leave them?' And then he jettisoned all the seventy horses in the boats in order to enable them to get back. When they got to Peking, Fan Wen-hu, etc., were all disgraced. Only Chang Hi escaped punishment."

5. Chapter on Ch'u Ting, an An Hwei man.—"He was with Fan Wen-hu's force when the sudden storm arose. His craft was smashed, but Ch'u Ting got hold of a piece of wreckage, and drifted about for three days and three nights, until he fell in with Fan Wen-hu's ship at a certain island, and was thus able to get to Kin Chou in Corea. The soldiers encamped in the Hoh P'u bay also drifted in, and were collected and taken home by him."

Chapter on Hung Tsun-k'i, alias Hung Ts'a-k'iu, a Corean of ancient Chinese descent.—"[After recounting how Kublai placed him in charge of the well-disposed Corean troops, how he served in the Corean and Quelpaert campaigns, and against Japan in 1274 and 1277, the Mongol History goes on:] In 1281, in company with Hintu [a Ouigour], he led a naval force of 40,000 men via Kin Chou and Hoh-P'u in Corea to join the 100,000 men coming by sea from Ningpo under Fan Wen-hu. Forces were joined at the Iki, Hirado, and other islands of Japan; but before the hostile forces were encountered, in the 8th month, a storm smashed the ships, and he returned."

Extract from Japanese Riokuji, or Historical Handbook.—"In the 5th moon of 1281 the Mongols raided us on a wholesale scale. Our troops were unsuccessful in resisting them at Iki and Tsushima. The enemy advanced and occupied Five Dragon Mountains in Hizen. The Hojo-tandai led the troops bravely to the fight. The enemy retired upon Takashima. In the intercalary 7th moon a great wind blew. The enemy's war-ships were all broken to pieces. Our troops energetically attacked and cut them up, the sea being covered with prostrate corpses. Of the Mongol army of 100,000 only three men got back alive. Henceforward the Mongols were unable to pry about our coasts again."

MARCO POLO

Of so great celebrity was the wealth of Cipango (Japan), that a desire was excited in the breast of the grand khan Kublai, now reigning, to make the conquest of it, and to annex it to his dominions. In order to effect this, he fitted out a numerous fleet, and embarked a large body of troops, under the command of two of his principal officers, one of whom was named Abba-catan, and the other Vonsancin.[76]

The expedition sailed from the ports of Zaitun and Kinsai,[77] and, crossing the intermediate sea, reached the island in safety; but in consequence of a jealousy that arose between the two commanders, one of whom treated the plans of the other with contempt and resisted the execution of his orders, they were unable to gain possession of any city or fortified place, with the exception of one only, which was carried by assault, the garrison having refused to surrender.

Directions were given for putting the whole to the sword, and in obedience thereto the heads of all were cut off, excepting of eight persons, who, by the efficacy of a diabolical charm, consisting of a jewel or amulet introduced into the right arm, between the skin and the flesh, were rendered secure from the effects of iron, either to kill or wound, Upon this discovery being made, they were beaten with a heavy wooden club, and presently died.[78]

It happened, after some time, that a north wind began to blow with great force, and the ships of the Tartars, which lay near the shore of the island, were driven foul of each other. It was determined thereupon, in a council of the officers on board, that they ought to disengage themselves from the land; and accordingly, as soon as the troops were re-embarked, they stood out to sea. The gale, however, increased to so violent a degree that a number of the vessels foundered. The people belonging to them, by floating upon pieces of the wreck, saved themselves upon an island lying about four miles from the coast of Cipango.

The other ships, which, not being so near to the land, did not suffer from the storm, and in which the two chiefs were embarked, together with the principal officers, or those whose rank entitled them to command a hundred thousand or ten thousand men, directed their course homeward, and returned to the Grand Khan.

Those of the Tartars who remained upon the island where they were wrecked, and who amounted to about thirty thousand men, finding themselves left without shipping, abandoned by their leaders, and having neither arms nor provisions, expected nothing less than to become captives or to perish; especially as the island afforded no habitations where they could take shelter and refresh themselves. As soon as the gale ceased and the sea became smooth and calm, the people from the main island of Cipango came over with a large force, in numerous boats, in order to make prisoners of these shipwrecked Tartars, and, having landed, proceeded in search of them, but in a straggling, disorderly manner. The Tartars, on their part, acted with prudent circumspection, and, being concealed from view by some high land in the centre of the island, while the enemy were hurrying in pursuit of them by one road, made a circuit of the coast by another, which brought them to the place where the fleet of boats was at anchor. Finding these all abandoned, but with their colors flying, they instantly seized them, and, pushing off from the island, stood for the principal city of Cipango, into which, from the appearance of the colors, they were suffered to enter unmolested.[79]

Here they found few of the inhabitants besides women, whom they retained for their own use, and drove out all others. When the King was apprised of what had taken place, he was much afflicted, and immediately gave directions for a strict blockade of the city, which was so effectual that not any person was suffered to enter or to escape from it during six months that the siege continued. At the expiration of this time the Tartars, despairing of succor, surrendered upon the condition of their lives being spared.

These events took place in the course of the year 1264.[80] The Grand Khan having learned some years after that the unfortunate issue of the expedition was to be attributed to the dissension between the two commanders, caused the head of one of them to be cut off; the other he sent to the savage island of Zorza,[81] where it is the custom to execute criminals in the following manner. They are wrapped round both arms, in the hide of a buffalo fresh taken from the beast, which is sewed tight. As this dries, it compresses the body to such a degree that the sufferer is incapable of moving or in any manner helping himself, and thus miserably perishes.

THE SICILIAN VESPERS

A.D. 1282

MICHELE AMARI[82]

Under Frederic II, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, Sicily had been governed wisely. His son Conrad succeeded him as King of Sicily in 1250, but went to Germany, where his crown was being contested by William of Holland, leaving his illegitimate brother Manfred to administer Sicily. Conrad and his brother Henry died in 1254. Manfred continued to rule Sicily as regent for his nephew Conradin, son of Conrad, but in 1258, upon a rumor of Conradin's death, assumed the crown.

Pope Alexander IV and his successor Urban IV, a Frenchman, would not recognize Manfred as ruler. Urban offered the Sicilian crown to a brother of Louis IX of France, Charles, Count of Anjou, who promised to hold Sicily as a fief of the holy see. Charles was compelled to conquer his new kingdom, and with a large army of Frenchmen invaded Sicily. Manfred was defeated and slain in a sanguinary battle at Grandella, near Benevento, and Charles soon made himself master of the kingdom. Young Conradin was still living, but was defeated at Tagliacozzo in 1268, and was beheaded at Naples by order of Charles.

The French earned the scarcely veiled hatred of the Sicilians by their tyranny and cruelties, and a conspiracy arose to give the crown to Pedro, King of Aragon, who had married Constance, daughter of Manfred. Charles of Anjou was not ignorant of the fact that his throne was in danger, nor was he totally unprepared. The overthrow of the French power in Sicily, however, was precipitated by an incident at Palermo on Easter Monday, the 30th of March, 1282, which led to the wholesale massacre known to history as the "Sicilian Vespers," because of its commencement at the hour of vespers.

The Sicilians endured the French yoke—though cursing it—until the spring of 1282. The military preparations of the King of Aragon were not yet completed, nor, even if partially known in Sicily, could they inspire any immediate hope. The people were overawed by the immense armaments of Charles destined against Constantinople; and forty-two royal castles, either in the principal cities or in situations of great natural strength, served to keep the island in check. A still greater number were held by French feudatories; the standing troops were collected and in arms; and the feudal militia, composed in great part of foreign subfeudatories, waited only the signal to assemble. In such a posture of affairs, which the foresight of the prudent would never have selected for an outbreak, the officers of Charles continued to grind down the Sicilian people, satisfied that their patience would endure forever.

New outrages shed a gloom over the festival of Easter at Palermo, the ancient capital of the kingdom, detested by the strangers more than any other city as being the strongest and the most deeply injured. Messina was the seat of the King's viceroy in Sicily, Herbert of Orleans; Palermo was governed by the Justiciary of Val di Mazzara, John of St. Remigio, a minister worthy of Charles. His subalterns, worthy both of the Justiciary and of the King, had recently launched out into fresh acts of rapine and violence. But the people submitted. It even went so far that the citizens of Palermo, seeking comfort from God amid their worldly tribulations, and having entered a church to pray, in that very church, on the days sacred to the memory of the Saviour's passion, and amid the penitential rites, were exposed to the most cruel outrages. The ban-dogs of the exchequer searched out among them those who had failed in the payment of the taxes, dragged them forth from the sacred edifice, manacled, and bore them to prison, crying out, insultingly, before the multitude attracted to the spot, "Pay, faterini, pay!" And the people still submitted.

The Monday after Easter, which fell on the 30th of March, there was a festival at the Church of Santo Spirito. On that occasion a heinous outrage against the liberties of the Sicilians afforded the impulse, and the patience of the people gave way.

Half a mile from the southern wall of the city, on the brink of the ravine of Oreto, stands a church dedicated to the Holy Ghost, concerning which the Latin fathers have not failed to record that on the day on which the first stone of it was laid, in the twelfth century, the sun was darkened by an eclipse. On one side of it were the precipice and the river; on the other, the plain extending to the city, which in the present day is in great part divided by walls and dotted with gardens; while a square enclosure of moderate size, shaded by dusky cypresses, honeycombed with tombs, and adorned with urns and other sepulchral monuments, surrounds the church. This is a public cemetery, laid out toward the end of the eighteenth century, and fearfully filled in three weeks by the dire pestilence which devastated Sicily in 1837. On the Tuesday following Easter, at the hour of vespers, religion and custom drew crowds of people to this cheerful plain, then carpeted with the flowers of spring. Citizens, wending their way toward the church, divided into numerous groups. They walked, sat in clusters, spread the tables, or danced upon the grass; and—whether it were a defect or a merit of the Sicilian character—threw off, for the moment, the recollection of their sufferings.

Suddenly the followers of the Justiciary appeared among them, and every bosom thrilled with a shudder of disgust. The strangers came with their usual insolent demeanor, as they said, to maintain tranquillity; and for this purpose they mingled with the groups, joined in the dances, and familiarly accosted the women; pressing the hand of one, taking unwarranted liberties with others; addressing indecent words and gestures to those more distant, until some temperately admonished them to depart, in God's name, without insulting the women; and others murmured angrily; but the hot-blooded youths raised their voices so fiercely that the soldiers said to one another, "These insolent paterini must be armed, that they dare thus to answer," and replied to them with the most offensive insults, insisting, with great insolence, on searching them for arms, and even here and there striking them with sticks or thongs. Every heart already throbbed fiercely on either side, when a young woman, of singular beauty and of modest and dignified deportment, appeared with her husband and relations, bending her steps toward the church. Drouet, a Frenchman, impelled either by insolence or license, approached her as if to examine her for concealed weapons; seized her and searched her bosom. She fell fainting into her husband's arms, who, in a voice almost choked with rage, exclaimed, "Death, death to the French!" At the same moment a youth burst from the crowd which had gathered round them, sprang upon Drouet, disarmed and slew him; and probably, at the same moment, paid the penalty by the loss of his own life, leaving his name unknown and the mystery forever unsolved—whether it were love for the injured woman, the impulse of a generous heart, or the more exalted flame of patriotism that prompted him thus to give the signal of deliverance.

Noble example has a power far beyond that of argument or eloquence to rouse the people; and the erstwhile abject slaves awoke at length from their long bondage. "Death, death to the French!" they cried; and the cry—say the historians of the time—reechoed, like the voice of God, through the whole country, and found an answer in every heart.

Above the corpse of Drouet were heaped those of the slain on either side. The crowd expanded itself, closed in, and swayed hither and thither in wild confusion. The Sicilians, with sticks, stones, and knives, rushed with desperate ferocity upon their fully armed opponents. They sought for them and hunted them down. Fearful tragedies were enacted amid the preparations for festivity, and the overthrown tables were drenched with blood. The people displayed their strength and conquered. The struggle was brief, and great the slaughter of the Sicilians; but of the French there were two hundred—and two hundred fell!

Breathless, covered with blood, brandishing the plundered weapons, and proclaiming the insult and its vengeance, the insurgents rushed toward the tranquil city, "Death to the French!" they shouted, and as many as they found were put to the sword. The example, the words, the contagion of passion, in an instant aroused the whole people. In the heat of the tumult Roger Mastrangelo, a nobleman, was chosen—or constituted himself—their leader. The multitude continued to increase; dividing into troops they scoured the streets, burst open doors, searched every nook, every hiding-place, and shouting "Death to the French!" smote them and slew them, while those too distant to strike added to the tumult by their applause. On the outbreak of this sudden uproar the Justiciary had taken refuge in his strong palace; the next moment it was surrounded by an enraged multitude crying aloud for his death; they demolished the defences and rushed furiously in, but the Justiciary escaped them. Favored by the confusion and the closing darkness, he succeeded, though wounded in the face, in mounting his horse unobserved, with only two attendants, and fled with all speed. Meanwhile the slaughter continued with increased ferocity; even the darkness of night failed to arrest it, and it was resumed the next day more furiously than ever. Nor did it finally cease because the thirst for vengeance was slaked, but because victims were wanting to appease it. Two thousand French perished in this first outbreak. Even Christian burial was denied them, but pits were afterward dug to receive their despised remains, and tradition still points out a column surmounted by an iron cross, raised by compassionate piety on one of these spots, probably long after the perpetration of the deed of vengeance.

Tradition, moreover, relates that the sound of a word, like the Shibboleth of the Hebrews, was the cruel test by which the French were distinguished in the massacre; and that, if there were found a suspicious or unknown person, he was compelled, with a sword to his throat, to pronounce the word ciciri, and the slightest foreign accent was the signal for his death. Forgetful of their own character, and as if stricken by fate, the gallant warriors of France neither fled nor united nor defended themselves. They unsheathed their swords and presented them to their assailants, imploring, as if in emulation of each other, to be the first to die. Of one common soldier it is recorded that, having concealed himself behind a wainscot, and being dislodged at the sword's point, he resolved not to die unavenged, and, springing forth with a wild cry upon the ranks of his enemies, slew three of them before he himself perished. The insurgents broke into the convents of the Minorites and Preaching Friars, and slaughtered all the monks whom they recognized as French. Even the altars afforded no protection; tears and prayers were alike unheeded; neither old men, women, nor infants were spared. The ruthless avengers of the ruthless massacre of Agosta swore to root out the seed of the French oppressors throughout the whole of Sicily; and this vow they cruelly fulfilled, slaughtering infants at their mothers' breasts and after them the mothers themselves, not sparing even pregnant women, but, with a horrible refinement of cruelty, ripping up the bodies of Sicilian women who were with child by French husbands, and dashing against the stones the fruit of the mingled blood of the oppressors and the oppressed. This general massacre of all who spoke the same language, and these heinous acts of cruelty, have caused the Sicilian Vespers to be classed among the most infamous of national crimes.

The very atrocity of the Vespers proved the salvation of Sicily, by cutting off all possibility of compromise. On that same bloodstained night of the 31st of March, the people of Palermo assembled in parliament, and, divided between the triumph of vengeance and terror at their own daring act, advanced still more decidedly in the path they had chosen. They abolished monarchy, and resolved to establish a commonwealth under the protection of the Church of Rome. They were moved to this determination by deadly hatred against Charles and his government, and the recollection of the stern rule of the Swabian dynasty on the one hand, and, on the other, by grateful remembrance of the liberty enjoyed in 1254; by the example of the Tuscan and Lombard republics, and by the natural pride of a powerful city, which having freed itself from a detested yoke confided in its own strength. The name of the Church was added in order to disarm the wrath of the Pope, to tempt his ambition, or to justify the rebellion under the pretext that in driving out their more immediate but criminal ruler they contemplated no infraction of loyalty to the suzerain from whom he held his power. Roger Mastrangelo, Henry Barresi, and Niccoloso of Ortoleva (knights), and Niccolo of Ebdemonia were proclaimed captains of the people with five counsellors. By the glare of torchlight on the bloody ground, amid the noise and throng of the armed multitude, and with all the sublime pomp of tumult, the republican magistrates were inaugurated. Trumpets and Moorish kettle-drums sounded, and thousands upon thousands of voices uttered the joyous cry of "The Republic and Liberty!" The ancient banner of the city—a golden eagle in a red field—was unfolded to wave amid new glories; and in homage to the Church the keys of St. Peter were quartered upon it.

At midnight, John of St. Remigio stayed his rapid flight at Vicari, a castle thirty miles distant from the capital; where, knocking loudly and hurriedly, he was with difficulty recognized by the garrison, half-drunk from the celebration of the same festival which had bred so fearful a slaughter in Palermo. Having admitted him, they were transfixed with amazement at seeing their Justiciary at so unreasonable an hour, unescorted, breathless, and covered with blood. John refused all explanation at the time, but the next morning at daybreak he called to arms all the French of the neighborhood—a feudal militia well inured to warfare—and breaking silence urged them to resist, and perhaps to avenge, the fate of their comrades. It was not long before the forces of Palermo, which had set out at dawn in pursuit of the fugitive—whose traces they had discovered—arrived at full speed beneath the walls of Vicari, and surrounded the city in disorder, impatient for the assault; but not perceiving how it was to be made, they had recourse to threats, and demanded immediate surrender, promising to the inhabitants the safety of their persons, and to John and his followers permission, on laying down their arms, to embark for Aigues-Mortes, in Provence. They, however, disdaining such conditions, and regarding the mob of assailants with contempt, made a vigorous sortie. At first military discipline obtained the advantage, and the Sicilians gave way, but the tide of battle was turned by a power beyond that of human skill, by the spirit which had given birth to the Vespers, and which suddenly blazed up again in the scattered squadrons. They paused—they looked at one another, "Death—death to the French!" they cried, and rushing upon them with irresistible fury, they drove back the veteran warriors into the fortress, defeated and in confusion. After this it was in vain that the French proposed terms of surrender. Heedless of the rules of war the young archers of Cacamo shot the Justiciary as he presented himself upon the walls, and, seeing him fall, the whole multitude rushed to the assault, occupied the fortress, put the garrison to the sword, and flung their corpses, piecemeal, to the dogs and to the vultures. This done, the host returned to Palermo.

Meanwhile, the fame of what had occurred spread rapidly from town to town, and the first in that neighborhood to rise was Corleone, as chief in population and importance, and also because of its numerous Lombard inhabitants, who held the names of Angevins and Guelfs in abhorrence, and of the intolerable burdens imposed upon it by the near neighborhood of the royal farms. This city, afterward surnamed the Valiant, boldly following the example of the capital, sent William Basso, William Corto, and Giugliono de Miraldo as orators to Palermo, to propose terms of alliance and fraternity between the two cities; mutual assistance in arms, forces, and money; reciprocal privileges of citizenship, and enfranchisement from all burdens laid upon such as were not citizens. It is not known whether the idea of the league originated with the republican rulers of Palermo or with the patriots of Corleone; but whichever may have been the case, it clearly exhibits the preponderance in those early days of the municipal tendency, and the exchange of feudal relations for the federal union of communities, the banner under which the revolution spread itself throughout the entire island. The assembled people of Palermo, with one voice, accepted the terms, and by their desire, on the 3d of April, they were sworn to on the Gospels by the captains and counsellors of the city, with the deputies of Corleone, and officially registered among the public acts; Palermo binding herself, moreover, to assist her ally in the destruction of the strong fortress of Calata Mauro.

Meanwhile, one Boniface, elected captain of the people of Corleone, went forth with three thousand men to scour the surrounding country. The royal farms were plundered and devastated; the herds, which had been carefully fattened for the army of the East, were confiscated to the service of the Sicilian revolution; the castles of the French were stormed, their houses sacked, and the massacre so ruthless that, according to Saba Malaspina, it seemed as if every man either had the death of a father, son, or brother to revenge, or firmly believed that the slaughter of a Frenchman was an act well pleasing to God. Thus, in a very few days, the movement propagated itself many miles around owing to the similarity of sentiments, the force of example, and the energy of the insurgents. In many places it assumed a character which must be inexplicable to those who, in spite of all that has been already stated, would persist in regarding these tumultuous outbreaks as the result of conspiracy; while the people showed the utmost readiness to put the foreigners to the sword, yet they feared to disown the name of King Charles. Their hesitation lasted but a few days, for they were carried away by the impulse of universal feeling and by the strength of the rebels; so that all, by degrees, declared themselves elected chiefs to lead their forces against the French, and captains of the people whom they sent to the capital, the fame of whose example had roused their courage, and which was now the centre of all their confidence, of all their hopes.

This first nucleus of the representatives of the nation being thus assembled in Palermo, they became imbued with the same valor which in one short night had raised a popular tumult to the dignity of a revolution. They were further encouraged by the manly energy of the people, who, mingled with insurgents from the surrounding towns, traversed the city to and fro, eagerly relating to one another the outrages they had suffered, and crying aloud, "Death rather than the yoke of the French!" So that no sooner were the syndics of the greater part of Val di Mazzara assembled in parliament, than they agreed to the establishment of the republican form of government conducted in the name of the Church. The people without responded with loud acclamations and shouts of "The Republic and Liberty!" All encouraged each other to venture everything, when Roger Mastrangelo, bent on urging them on so far that all retreat should be cut off and that they might be able to control the course of events, rose and boldly thus addressed the assembly:

"Citizens! I hear daring words and solemn oaths, but I see no symptoms of action, as if the blood that has been shed were the seal of victory rather than the provocation to a long and deadly struggle. Do you know Charles and his thousands of executioners, and can you yet amuse yourselves with the decoration of banners? Not far distant on the mainland are armies and navies ready for the Grecian war: there are the French panting for vengeance, and in a few days they will burst upon us. If they find our ports open for their disembarkation; if our inertness or our faults favor their progress they will soon spread throughout the whole of Sicily; they will subdue the irresolute people by force of arms, deceive them with reports of our unhappy divisions, seduce them with promises, and drag them back to the shameful yoke of bondage or drive them to raise their parricidal weapons against ourselves. You have sworn to die or to be free, and you will become slaves and will not all die—for the butchers will at length be weary—and will reserve the herd of survivors to exercise upon them their despotic will. Sicilians! remember the days of Conradin. To halt now will be destruction; to pursue our course, glory, and deliverance. Our forces are sufficient to raise the whole country as far as Messina, and Messina must not belong to the foe; we share the same origin, the same language, the same past glory and present shame, the same experience that slavery and misery are the result of division.

"All Sicily is stained with the blood of the strangers. She is strong in the courage of her sons, in the ruggedness of her mountains, in the protection of the seas, which are her bulwarks. Who then shall set foot upon her soil, except to find in it a yawning grave? Christ, who preached liberty to mankind, who inspired you to effect this blessed deliverance, now extends to you his almighty hand—if you will but act like men in your own defence. Citizens, captains of the people, it is my counsel that messengers be sent to all the other towns inviting them to unite with us for the maintenance of the commonwealth, that by force of arms, by daring, and by rapidity of action we should aid the weak, determine the doubtful, and combat the froward. For this purpose, let us divide into three bands which may simultaneously traverse the whole island, then let a general parliament mature our counsels, unite our views, and regulate the form of government; for I call God to witness that Palermo aspires, not to dominion, but seeks only liberty for all, and for herself the glory of being foremost in peril."

"And the people of Corleone," replied Boniface, "will follow the fortunes of this noble city—the fortress and ornament of Sicily. Corleone sends hither three thousand of her warriors to conquer or to die with you. But if our fate be to perish, let all those perish with us who would take part with the stranger in the day of the deliverance of Sicily. Thou, Roger, valiant in fight and sage in counsel, thou hast spoken words of safety. Henceforward he who lingers is a traitor to his country; let us arm ourselves and go forth."

"Forward, forward!" thundered the voice of the people in answer to his words, and with marvellous celerity the messengers were despatched; the forces assembled and sent forth in three divisions—one to the left toward Cefalu, one to the right upon Calatafimi, and the third toward the centre of the island, through Castro Giovanni. They displayed the banner of the commonwealth with the keys of St. Peter depicted around them, and their fame went before them, awakening hope and desire in all hearts. Hence every city and town unhesitatingly renounced its allegiance to Charles with a degree of unity which was admirable—except in regard to the slaughter of the French.

They were hunted down in the mountains and forests, assaulted and vanquished in the castles, and pursued with such fury that even to those who had escaped from the hands of the Sicilians life became a burden; and from the most impregnable fortresses, from the remotest hiding-places, they gave themselves up into the hands of the people who summoned them to die. Some even precipitated themselves from the towers of their strongholds. A very few, aided either by fortune or by their own valor, escaped with their lives, but were despoiled of everything, and these sought refuge in Messina. But the fate of William Porcelet merits especial remembrance. He was Lord or Governor of Calatafimi, and, amid the unbridled iniquity of his countrymen, was distinguished for justice and humanity. On the day of vengeance, in the full flush of its triumph and fury, the Palermitan host appeared at Calatafimi, and not only spared the life of William and of his family, but treated him with distinguished honor and sent him back to Provence—a fact which goes to prove, that for the excesses committed by the people, ample provocation had not been wanting.

Meanwhile the great object toward which every effort was directed was to gain over Messina to the cause of the revolution, for all comprehended the importance of her situation, of her seaport, and of the powerful and wealthy city herself—obviously marked out as the key-stone of the war—as well as the pressing necessity of obtaining her alliance or of making a desperate effort to subdue her by force of arms. Negotiations were therefore commenced. Of those which were private and the most efficacious no record has been handed down to us; but of those publicly conducted, a letter is still extant, dated from Palermo, the 13th of April, and despatched by messengers to Messina, which begins thus: "The Palermitans to the noble citizens of the illustrious city of Messina, bondsmen under Pharaoh in dust and mire—greeting, and deliverance from the servile yoke by the arm of liberty.

"Rise!" continues the epistle. "Rise, O daughter of Zion, and reassert thy former strength; … cease thy lamentations, which only awaken contempt; take thy weapons, thy quiver and thy bow, and unbind the fetters from thy neck." It proceeds to speak of Charles as a Nero, a wolf, a lion, and a ferocious dragon; then reverting to Messina, it exclaims: "The voice of God says to thee, 'Take up thy bed and walk!' for thou art whole." And again it exhorts her citizens "to struggle with the old serpent, and, being regenerate, like new-born babes to suck the milk of liberty, to seek justice, and to fly from calamity and ignominy."

While the Palermitans sought to gain over the citizens by these Biblical metaphors, Herbert of Orleans strengthened himself with foreign arms and with the support of the Messinese nobles—who by abuses and oppression had exalted themselves above their fellow-citizens, and therefore now resolutely sided with the Vicar. But first he sent seven Messinese galleys to attack Palermo under the command of Richard de Riso, who in 1268 had dared with a few vessels to confront the whole Pisan fleet, and who was now to lose in civil war his honor as a citizen and his reputation as a leader; for uniting with four galleys from Amalfi, under the command of Matthew del Giudice and Roger of Salerno, he proceeded to blockade the port of Palermo, and, as he was unable to effect anything else, approached the walls and caused the name of Charles to be shouted aloud, together with insults and menaces to the citizens. They, however, with the long-suffering of conscious strength, replied that "they would neither return the insults nor his blows; the Messinese and Palermitans were brothers; the French oppressors their only enemies, and they would do better to turn their arms against the tyrants." With these words they hoisted the standard of the cross of Messina upon the walls beside the eagle of Palermo.

The city of Messina—or rather those who wielded the municipal authority—in order to prove their loyalty, on the 15th of April sent five hundred cross-bowmen, under the command of Chiriolo, a knight of Messina, to garrison Taormina and prevent its occupation by the insurgents. The people, on the other hand, felt their Sicilian blood boil as they received the news of the rising in Palermo and in the other cities, of the progress of the insurgents through the island, and of the slaughter and flight of the French, heightened by many false or exaggerated reports; and when they beheld the fugitives enter Messina, destitute and terror-stricken, they began to murmur and show animosity against the soldiers of Herbert. These, feeling themselves no longer safe in the city, withdrew—some to the castle of Matagrifone, some to the royal palace where Herbert resided. The latter, in an evil hour, decided on a display of energy. He sent ninety horsemen under Micheletto Gatta to occupy the defences of Taormina, as if unable to repose confidence in the Messinese garrison, and the latter, seeing them approach in such arrogant and almost hostile guise, and incited by a citizen named Bartholomew, received them with a cry of insulting defiance and a shower of arrows. The contest being thus engaged, forty of the French remained on the field. The rest fled precipitately for refuge to the castle of Scaletta; and the Sicilians, tearing down the banners of Charles, marched upon Messina to compel her to join the rebellion. In the city thousands were willing, but none had courage, for the work, till a man of the people—Bartholomew Maniscalco by name—conspired with several others to give the signal of action. Meanwhile, forces were preparing to repulse the insurgents from Taormina, and the more prudent of the citizens deplored the impending effusion of the blood of their brethren. The people were on the alert, nor did the conspirators hold back.

Perhaps the entrance into the port of a Palermitan galley, and the slaughter by her crew of a few French who had fallen into their hands, hastened the event. It was the 28th of April when, from the midst of the tumultuous crowd, broke forth the cries of "Death to the French! Death to those who side with them!" and the massacre commenced. The victims, however, were but few, as the previous threatening aspect of the people had cleared the city of the greater number of the French. Maniscalco meanwhile, with his confederates, hoisted the cross of Messina in the place of the detested banner of Anjou; for a brief space he was captain of the people, but owing either to his own modesty or to the influence of the more powerful citizens, which always prevailed in the industrial city of Messina, that same night, by their advice, he resigned the government to Baldwin Mussone, a noble returned but a few hours before, with Matthew and Baldwin de Riso, from the court of King Charles. On the following day, the municipal council having been assembled in form, Mussone was hailed captain by the entire people; and calling on the sacred name of Christ, the republic was proclaimed, under the protection of the Church. The gonfalon, or great banner of the city, was displayed with the utmost pomp. The judges Raynald de Limogi and Nicoloso Saporito, the historian Bartholomew of Neocastro, and Peter Ansalone were elected as counsellors of the new government; and all the public officers, even to the executioners, were likewise elected—as if to show that henceforward the sword of justice was to rule in place of disorder and violence. But it was yet too soon for so complete a revolution.

On the 30th of April the galleys were recalled from Palermo, whither messengers of friendship and alliance were despatched in their stead. Herbert, feeling himself no longer secure in the castle, had recourse to the old manoeuvre of fomenting divisions, but with no better success. He despatched Matthew, a member of the family of Riso—which from consciousness of guilt had allied itself with him—to endeavor to gain over Baldwin Mussone. Matthew accordingly sought him and in presence of all the other counsellors admonished him, using the arguments of a crooked policy, to reflect on the great power of the King, and that this insane tumult would deprive Messina of the advantages that would naturally accrue to her from the rebellion of Palermo. What were the Palermitans to him that he should share their madness? In what had Charles injured him or his city? "How is it possible," continued he, "that thou who wast but yesterday loyal to the King, a friend to us, and the companion of our journey, shouldst have secretly nourished such hatred in thy heart? and now, far from restraining the people from rushing to their ruin, shouldst spur them wildly on? For thy own sake, for that of thy country, return to thy senses—it is yet time."

But Baldwin, with a clearer comprehension of the honor and interests of the city, which were identical with those of Sicily, answered him indignantly, and neither counsellors nor citizens hesitated for a moment whether to prostitute Messina to the stranger or bid her share the freedom of the sister-cities of the island. Rejecting, therefore, these deceptive arguments, Baldwin, in the presence of Matthew de Riso, solemnly renewed his oath to maintain the liberty of Sicily or perish, and exhorted him to join in support of the same sacred cause. In conclusion, he desired him to return to Herbert, and offer him security for his own life and that of his soldiers, if leaving their arms, horses, and accoutrements, they would sail direct for Aigues-Mortes in Provence, binding themselves not to touch anywhere on the Sicilian or other neighboring coasts. The Viceroy agreed to these terms, but had no sooner traversed half the strait with two vessels than he broke them, and full of hostile designs landed in Calabria in order to join Peter of Catanzaro, who being advised of what was going forward had embarked before them with his Calabrians, abandoning his horses and baggage to the fury of the people. Theobald de Messi, castellan of the fortress of Matagrifone, and Micheletto—with those who had taken refuge at Scaletta—subsequently surrendered, with all their followers, on the terms granted to the Viceroy. The former, having embarked on board a small vessel, set sail several times, but was driven into port by contrary winds or adverse fate. The latter was shut up in the castle, and his soldiers in the palace, to protect them from the fury of the multitude. But these precautions availed not to save them. On the 7th of May the galleys returned from Palermo, bringing captive with them two of those of Amalfi which had accompanied them in the expedition, and the crew, inflamed either by example or indignation at the unnatural and useless attempt in which they had been employed against their fellow-countrymen, loudly demanded French blood to slake their thirst for vengeance. The citizens, meanwhile, were no less exasperated by Herbert's breach of faith; so that, as the galley of Natale Pancia, entering the port, grazed the vessel of Theobald de Messi, the crew, on a signal from the shore, sprang upon her deck, seized and bound the prisoners and flung them overboard to perish.

On beholding this spectacle the former fury blazed up afresh within the city; the mob, rushing to the palace, massacred the soldiers taken at Scaletta; the alarm-bells rang; the few partisans of the French concealed themselves in terror; the armed and bloodstained people poured in torrents through the streets, even the rulers of the city made no attempt to quell their fury; for Neocastro, who undoubtedly shared in their counsels, writes that they, on the contrary, advanced the more boldly in the path of revolution when they beheld the multitude so inextricably engaged.

EXPULSION OF JEWS FROM ENGLAND

A.D. 1290

HENRY HART MILMAN

Long persecuted in so-called Christian lands, the people without a country—the Jews—first appeared in England during the latter half of the eleventh century, a colony, it is said, having been taken from Rouen to London by William the Conqueror. These first-comers were, we are told, special favorites of William Rufus. Little is seen of them under Henry I, but in the reign of Stephen they are found established in most of the principal towns, but dwelling as a people apart, not being members of the State, but chattels of the King, and only to be meddled with, for good or for evil, at his bidding. Exempt from taxation and fines, they hoarded wealth, which the King might seize at his pleasure, though none of his subjects could touch it. The Jew's special capacity—in which Christians were forbidden by the Church to employ themselves through fear of the sin of usury—-was that of money-lender.

In this status the Jews remained without eventful history until the latter part of the twelfth century, when the crusading spirit had aroused a more intense hatred of the race. At the coronation of Richard I (1189) certain of the Jews intruded among the spectators, causing a riot, in which the Jewish quarter was plundered; and this violence was followed by a frenzy of persecution all over the land. A rumor spread that the Jews were accustomed to crucify a Christian boy at Easter, and this aroused the populace to fury against them. Murder and rapine prevailed in several places. Five hundred Jews, who were allowed to take refuge in the castle at York, were there besieged by the townsmen, in whom no offers of ransom could appease the thirst for blood. These avengers were led on by their own clergy, with the cry, "Destroy the enemies of Christ!" A rabbi addressed his countrymen: "Men of Israel, it is better that we should die for our law than to fall into the power of those that hate it, and our law prescribes that we may die by our own hands. Let us voluntarily render up our souls to our Creator." Then all but a few of them burned or buried their effects, and, after setting fire to the castle in many places, the men cut the throats of their wives and children, and then their own.

Richard I had special dealings with the Jews, the effectual results of which were more securely to bind them as crown chattels and to add to the royal emoluments. King John, well estimating the importance of the Jews as a source of revenue, began his reign by heaping favors upon them, which only made his subjects in general look upon them with more jealousy. Under Henry III both the wealth of the Jews and the oppressions which laid exactions upon it increased; and during the half-century preceding their expulsion from the realm, their condition, as shown by Milman, became more and more intolerable.

Jewish history has a melancholy sameness—perpetual exactions, the means of enforcing them differing only in their degrees of cruelty. Under Henry III the Parliament of England began, 1250, to consider that these extraordinary succors ought at least to relieve the rest of the nation. They began to inquire into the King's resources from this quarter, and the King consented that one of the two justices of the Jews should be appointed by parliament. But the barons thought more of easing themselves than of protecting the oppressed. In 1256 a demand of eight thousand marks was made, under pain of being transported, some at least of the most wealthy, to Ireland; and, lest they should withdraw their families into places of concealment, they were forbidden, under the penalty of outlawry and confiscation, to remove wife or child from their usual place of residence, for their wives and children were now liable to taxation as well as themselves. During the next three years sixty thousand marks more were levied. How, then, was it possible for any traffic, however lucrative, to endure such perpetual exactions?

The reason must be found in the enormous interest of money, which seems to have been considered by no means immoderate at 50 per cent.; certain Oxford scholars thought themselves relieved by being constrained to pay only twopence weekly on a debt of twenty shillings. In fact, the rivalry of more successful usurers seems to have afflicted the Jews more deeply than the exorbitant demands of the King. These were the "Caorsini," Italian bankers, though named from the town of Cahors, employed by the Pope to collect his revenue. It was the practice of these persons, under the sanction of their principal, to lend money for three months without interest, but afterward to receive 5 per cent, monthly till the debt was discharged; the former device was to exempt them from the charge of usury. Henry III at one time attempted to expel this new swarm of locusts; but they asserted their authority from the Pope, and the monarch trembled.

Nor were their own body always faithful to the Jews. A certain Abraham, who lived at Berkhampstead and Wallingford, with a beautiful wife who bore the heathen name of Flora, was accused of treating an image of the Virgin with most indecent contumely; he was sentenced to perpetual imprisonment, but released, on the intervention of Richard, Earl of Cornwall, on payment of seven hundred marks. He was a man, it would seem, of infamous character, for his brethren accused him of coining, and offered one thousand marks rather than that he should be released from prison. Richard refused the tempting bribe, because Abraham was "his Jew." Abraham revenged himself by laying information of plots and conspiracies entered into by the whole people, and the more probable charge of concealment of their wealth from the rapacious hands of the King. This led to a strict and severe investigation of their property. At this investigation was present a wicked and merciless Jew, who rebuked the Christians for their tenderness to his brethren, and reproached the King's officers as gentle and effeminate. He gnashed his teeth, and, as each Jew appeared, declared that he could afford to pay twice as much as was exacted. Though he lied, he was useful in betraying their secret hoards to the King.

The distresses of the King increased, and, as his parliament resolutely refused to maintain his extravagant expenditure, nothing remained but to drain still further the veins of the Jews. The office was delegated to Richard, Earl of Cornwall, his brother, whom, from his wealth, the King might consider possessed of some secret for accumulating riches from hidden sources. The rabbi Elias was deputed to wait on the Prince, expressing the unanimous determination of all the Jews to quit the country rather than submit to further burdens: "Their trade was ruined by the Caorsini, the Pope's merchants—the Jew dared not call them usurers—who heaped up masses of gold by their money-lending; they could scarcely live on the miserable gains they now obtained; if their eyes were torn out and their bodies flayed, they could not give more." The old man fainted at the close of his speech, and was with difficulty revived.

Their departure from the country was a vain boast, for whither should they go? The edicts of the King of France had closed that country against them, and the inhospitable world scarcely afforded a place of refuge. Earl Richard treated them with leniency and accepted a small sum. But the next year the King renewed his demands; his declaration affected no disguise: "It is dreadful to imagine the debts to which I am bound. By the face of God, they amount to two hundred thousand marks; if I should say three hundred thousand, I should not go beyond the truth. Money I must have, from any place, from any person, or by any means." The King's acts display as little dignity as his proclamation. He actually sold or mortgaged to his brother Richard all the Jews in the realm for five thousand marks, giving him full power over their property and persons; our records still preserve the terms of this extraordinary bargain and sale.

Popular opinion, which in the worst times is some restraint upon the arbitrary oppressions of kings, in this case would rather applaud the utmost barbarity of the monarch than commiserate the wretchedness of the victims; for a new tale of the crucifixion of a Christian child, called Hugh of Lincoln, was now spreading horror throughout the country. The fact was confirmed by a solemn trial and the conviction and execution of the criminals. It was proved, according to the mode of proof in those days, that the child had been stolen, fattened on bread and milk for ten days, and crucified with all the cruelties and insults of Christ's Passion, in the presence of all the Jews in England, summoned to Lincoln for this especial purpose; a Jew of Lincoln sat in judgment as Pilate. But the earth could not endure to be an accomplice in the crime; it cast up the buried remains, and the affrighted criminals were obliged to throw the body into a well, where it was found by the mother. A great part of this story refutes itself, but among the ignorant and fanatic Jews there might be some who, exasperated by the constant repetition of this charge, might brood over it so long as at length to be tempted to its perpetration.

I must not suppress the fearful vengeance wreaked on the supposed perpetrators of this all-execrated crime. The Jew into whose house the child, it was said, had gone to play, tempted by the promise of life and security from mutilation, made full confession, and threw the guilt upon his brethren. The King, indignant at this unauthorized covenant of mercy, ordered him to execution. The Jew, in his despair or frenzy, entered into a still more minute and terrible denunciation of all the Jews of the realm, as consenting to the act. He was dragged, tied to a horse's tail, to the gallows; his body and his soul delivered to the demons of the air. Ninety-one Jews of Lincoln were sent, to London as accomplices, and thrown into dungeons. If some Christians felt pity for their sufferings, their rivals, the Caorsini, beheld them with dry eyes.

The King's inquest declared all the Jews of the realm guilty of the crime. The mother made her appeal to the King. Eighteen of the richest and most eminent of the Lincoln Jews were hung on a new gallows; twenty more were imprisoned in the Tower awaiting the same fate. But if the Jews of Lincoln were thus terribly chastised, the church of Lincoln was enriched and made famous for centuries. The victim was canonized; pilgrims crowded from all parts of the kingdom, even from foreign lands, to pay their devotions at the shrine, to witness and to receive benefit from the miracles which were wrought by the martyr of eight years old. How deeply this legend sank into the popular mind may be conceived from Chaucer's Prioress' Tale.

The rest of the reign of Henry III passed away with the same unmitigated oppressions of the Jews; which the Jews, no doubt, in some degree revenged by their extortions from the people. The contest between the royal and ecclesiastical jurisdiction over the Jews was arranged by certain constitutions, set forth by the King in council. By these laws no Jew could reside in the kingdom but as king's serf. Service was to be performed in the synagogue in a low tone, so as not to offend the ears of Christians. The Jews were forbidden to have Christian nurses for their children. The other clauses were similar to those enacted in other countries: that the Jew should pay all dues to the parson; no Jew should eat or buy meat during Lent; all disputes on religion were forbidden; sexual intercourse between Jews and Christians interdicted; no Jew might settle in any town where Jews were not accustomed to reside, without special license from the King.

The barons' wars drew on, fatal to the Israelites as compelling the King, by the hopeless state of his finances, to new extortions, and tempting the barons to plunder and even murder them as wickedly and unconstitutionally attached to the King. How they passed back from Richard of Cornwall into the King's jurisdiction as property appears not. It is not likely that the King redeemed the mortgage; but in 1261 they were again alienated to Prince Edward. The King's object was apparently by this and other gifts to withdraw the Prince from his alliance with the barons. The justiciaries of the Jews are now in abeyance. The chancellor of the exchequer was to seal ail writs of Judaism, and account to the attorneys of the Prince for the amount. But this was not the worst of their sufferings or the bitterest disgrace; the Prince, in his turn, mortgaged them to certain of their dire enemies, the Caorsini, and the King ratified the assignment by his royal authority.

But for this compulsory aid, wrung from them by violence, the Jews were treated by the barons as allies and accomplices of the King. When London, at least her turbulent mayor and the populace, declared for the barons; when the Grand Justiciary, Hugh le Despenser, led the city bands to destroy the palaces of the King of the Romans at Westminster and Isleworth, threw the justices of the king's bench and the barons of the exchequer into prison, and seized the property of the foreign merchants, five hundred of the Jews,[83] men, women, and children, were apprehended and set apart, but not for security. Despenser chose some of the richest in order to extort a ransom for his own people, the rest were plundered, stripped, murdered by the merciless rabble. Old men, and babes plucked from their mothers' breasts, were pitilessly slaughtered. It was on Good Friday that one of the fiercest of the barons, Fitz John, put to death Cok ben Abraham, reputed to have been the wealthiest man in the kingdom, seized his property, but, fearful of the jealousy of the other barons surrendered one-half of the plunder to Leicester in order to secure his own portion.

The Jews of other cities fared no better, were pillaged, and then abandoned to the mob by the Earl of Gloucester; many at Worcester were plundered and forced to submit to baptism by the Earl of Derby. At an earlier period the Earl of Leicester (Simon de Montfort) had expelled them from the town of Leicester; they sought refuge in the domains of the Countess of Winchester. Robert Grostête, the wisest and best churchman of the day, then Archdeacon of Leicester, hardly permitted the Countess to harbor this accursed race; their lives might be spared, but all further indulgence, especially acceptance of their ill-gotten wealth, would make her an accomplice in the wickedness of their usuries.[84]

After the battle of Lewes, 1264, the King, with the advice of his barons—he was now a prisoner in their camp—issued a proclamation to the Lord Mayor and sheriffs of London, in favor of the Jews. Some had found refuge, during the tumult and massacre, in the Tower of London; they were permitted to return with their families to their homes. All ill-usage or further molestation was prohibited under pain of death. Orders of the same kind were issued to Lincoln; twenty-five citizens were named by the King and the barons their special protectors; so also to Northampton. The King—Prince Edward was now at war with the barons, who had the King in their power—revoked the grant of the Jews to his son; with that the grant to the Caorsini, which had not expired, was cancelled. The justiciaries appointed by the Prince to levy the tallage upon them were declared to have lost their authority; the Jews passed back to the property of the King. The King showed his power by annulling many debts and the interest due upon them to some of his faithful followers, avowedly in order to secure their attachment.

It was now clearly for the King's interest that such profitable subjects should find, we may not say justice, but something like restitution, which might enable them again to become profitable. The King in the parliament, which commenced its sittings immediately after the battle of Lewes, and continued till after the battle of Evesham, August 4, 1265, restored the Jews to the same state in which they were before the battle of Lewes. As to the Jews in London, the constable of the Tower was to see not only that those who had taken refuge in the Tower, but those who had fled to other places, were to return to their houses, which were to be restored, except such as had been granted away by the King; and even all their property which could be recovered from the King's enemies. Excepting that some of the barons' troops, flying from the battle of Evesham, under the younger Simon de Montfort, broke open and plundered the synagogue at Lincoln, where they found much wealth, and some excesses committed at Cambridge, the Jews had time to breathe. The King, enriched by the forfeited estates of the barons, spared the Jews. We only find a tallage of one thousand pounds, with promise of exemption for three years, unless the King or his son should undertake a crusade.

Their wrongs had, no doubt, sunk deep into the hearts of the Jews. It has been observed that oppression, which drives even wise men mad, may instigate fanatics to the wildest acts of frenzy; an incident at Oxford will illustrate this. Throughout these times the Jews still flourished, if they may be said to have flourished, at Oxford. In 1244 certain clerks of the university broke into the houses of the Jews and carried away enormous wealth. The magistrates seized and imprisoned some of the offenders. Grostete, as bishop of the diocese—Oxford was then in the diocese of Lincoln—commanded their release, because there was no proof of felony against them. We hear nothing of restitution. The scholars might indeed hate the Jews whose interest on loans was limited by Bishop Grostete to twopence weekly in the pound—between 40 and 50 per cent. Probably the poor scholars' security was not overgood. Later, the studies in the university are said to have been interrupted, the scholars being unable to redeem their books pledged to the Jews.

Twenty-four years after the outbreak of the scholars, years of bitterness and spoliation and suffering, while the chancellor and the whole body of the university were in solemn procession to the reliques of St. Frideswide, they were horror-struck by beholding a Jew rush forth, seize the cross which was borne before them, dash it to the ground, and trample upon it with the most furious contempt. The offender seems to have made his escape in the tumult, but his people suffered for his crime. Prince Edward was then at Oxford; and, by the royal decree, the Jews were imprisoned, and forced, notwithstanding much artful delay on their part, to erect a beautiful cross of white marble, with an image of the Virgin and Child, gilt all over, in the area of Merton College, and to present to the proctors another cross of silver to be borne at all future processions of the university. The Jews endeavored to elude this penalty by making over their effects to other persons. The King empowered the sheriff to levy the fine on all their property.

The last solemn act of Henry of Winchester was a statute of great importance. Complaints had arisen that the Jews, by purchase, or probably foreclosure of mortgage, might become possessed of all the rights of lords of manors, escheat wardships, even of presentation to churches. They might hold entire baronies with all their appurtenances. The whole was swept away by one remorseless clause. The act disqualified the Jews altogether from holding lands or even tenements, except the houses of which they were actually possessed, particularly in the city of London, where they might only pull down and rebuild on the old foundations. All lands or manors were actually taken away; those which they held by mortgage were to be restored to the Christian owners, without any interest on such bonds. Henry almost died in the act of extortion; he had ordered the arrears of all charges to be peremptorily paid, under pain of imprisonment. Such was the distress caused by this inexorable mandate that even the rival bankers, the Caorsini, and the friars themselves, were moved to commiseration, though some complained that the wild outcries raised in the synagogue on this doleful occasion disturbed the devotion of the Christians in the neighboring churches.

The death of Henry released the Jews from this Egyptian bondage; but they changed their master, not their fortune. The first act of Edward's reign, after his return from the Holy Land, regulated the affairs of the Jews exactly in the same spirit; a new tallage was demanded, which was to extend to the women and children; the penalty of nonpayment, even of arrears, was exile, not imprisonment. The defaulter was to proceed immediately to Dover, with his wife and children, leaving his house and property to the use of the King. The execution of this edict was committed, not to the ordinary civil authorities, but to an Irish bishop (elect) and to two friars.

This edict was followed up by the celebrated Act of Parliament Concerning Judaism,[85] the object of which seems to have been the same with the policy of Louis IX of France, to force the Jews to abandon usury, and betake themselves to traffic, manufactures, or the cultivation of land. It positively prohibited all usury and cancelled all debts on payment of the principal. No Jew might distress beyond the moiety of a Christian's land and goods; they were to wear their badge, a badge now of yellow, not white, and pay an Easter offering of threepence, men and women, to the King. They were permitted to practise merchandise or labor with their hands, and—some of them, it seems, were still addicted to husbandry—to hire farms for cultivation for fifteen years. On these terms they were assured of the royal protection. But manual labor and traffic were not sources sufficiently expeditious for the enterprising avarice of the Jews. Many of them, thus reduced, took again to a more unlawful and dangerous occupation, clipping and adulterating the coin. In one day, November 17, 1279, all the Jews in the kingdom were arrested. In London alone two hundred and eighty were executed after a full trial; many more in other parts of the kingdom. A vast quantity of clipped coin was found and confiscated to the King's use. The King granted their estates and forfeitures with lavish hand.

But law, though merciless and probably not overscrupulous in the investigation of crime, did not satisfy the popular passions, which had been let loose by these wide and general accusations. The populace took the law into their own hands.

Everywhere there was full license for plunder and worse than plunder. The King was obliged to interpose. A writ was issued, addressed to the justiciaries who had presided at the trials for the adulteration of the coin, Peter of Pentecester, Walter of Heylynn, John of Cobham, appointed justiciaries for the occasion. It recited that many Jews had been indicted and legally condemned to death and to the forfeiture of their goods and chattels; but that certain Christians, solely on account of religious differences, were raising up false and frivolous charges against men who had not been legally arraigned, in order to extort money from them by fear. No Jew against whom a legal indictment had not been issued before May 1, 1280, was to be molested or subject to accusation. Those only arrested on grave suspicion before that time were to be put upon their trial. Jewish tradition attributes the final expulsion of the Jews to these charges, which the King, it avers, did not believe, yet was compelled to yield to popular clamor.

But not all the statutes, nor public executions, nor the active preaching of the Dominican friars, who undertook to convert them if they were constrained to hear their sermons—the king's bailiffs, on the petition of the friars, were ordered to induce the Jews to become quiet, meek, and uncontentious hearers—could either alter the Jewish character, still patient of all evil so that they could extort wealth, or suppress the still increasing clamor of public detestation, which demanded that the land should cast forth from its indignant bosom this irreclaimable race of rapacious infidels. Still worse, if we may trust a papal bull, the presence and intercourse of the Jews were dangerous to the religion of England. In the year 1286 the Pope (Honorius IV) addressed a bull to the Archbishop of Canterbury and his suffragans, rebuking them for the remissness of the clergy in not watching more closely the proceedings of the Jews. The Archbishop, indeed, had not been altogether so neglectful in the duty of persecution. The number and the splendor of the synagogues in London had moved the indignation, perhaps the jealousy, of Primate Peckham. He issued his monition to the Bishop of London to inhibit the building any more of these offensively sumptuous edifices, and to compel the Jews to destroy those built within a prescribed time.

The zeal of the Bishop of London (Robert de Gravesend) outran that of the Archbishop; he ordered them all to be levelled to the ground. The Archbishop, prevailed on by the urgent supplications of the Jews, graciously informed the Bishop that he might conscientiously allow one synagogue, if that synagogue did not wound the eyes of pious Christians by its magnificence.

But the bull of Honorius IV was something more than a stern condemnation of the usurious and extortionate practices of the Jews; it was a complaint of their progress, not merely in inducing Jewish converts to Christianity to apostatize back to Judaism, but of their not unsuccessful endeavors to tempt Christians to Judaism. "These Jews lure them to their synagogues on the Sabbath—are we to suppose that there was something splendid and attractive in the synagogue worship of the day?—and in their friendly intercourse at common banquets, the souls of Christians, softened by wine and good eating and social enjoyment, are endangered." The Talmud of the Jews, which they still persist in studying, is especially denounced as full of abomination, falsehood, and infidelity.

The King at length listened to the public voice, and the irrevocable edict of total expulsion from the realm was issued. Their whole property was seized at once, and just money enough left to discharge their expenses[86] to foreign lands, perhaps equally inhospitable. The 10th of October was the fatal day. The King benignantly allowed them till All Saints' Day; after which all who delayed were to be hanged without mercy. The King, in the execution of this barbarous proceeding, put on the appearance both of religion and moderation. Safe-conducts were to be granted to the sea-shore from all parts of the kingdom. The wardens of the Cinque Ports were to provide shipping and receive the exiles with civility and kindness. The King expressed his intention of converting great part of his gains to pious uses, but the Church looked in vain for the fulfilment of his vows.

He issued orders that the Jews should be treated with kindness and courtesy on their journey to the sea-shore.

But where the Prince by his laws thus gave countenance to the worst passions of human nature, it was not likely that they would be suppressed by his proclamations. The Jews were pursued from the kingdom with every mark of popular triumph in their sufferings; one man, indeed, the master of a vessel at Queenborough, was punished for leaving a considerable number on the shore at the mouth of the river, when, as they prayed to him to rescue them from their perilous situation, he answered that they had better call on Moses, who had made them pass safe through the Red Sea, and, sailing away with their remaining property, left them to their fate. The number of exiles is variously estimated at fifteen thousand and sixty and sixteen thousand five hundred and eleven; all their property, debts, obligations, mortgages, escheated to the King.

Yet some, even in those days, presumed to doubt whether the nation gained by the act of expulsion, and even ventured to assert that the public burdens on the Christians only became heavier and more intolerable. Catholics suffered in the place of the enemies of the Cross of Christ. The loss to the Crown was enormous.[87] The convents made themselves masters of the valuable libraries of the Jews, one at Stamford, another at Oxford, from which the celebrated Roger Bacon is said to have derived great information; and long after, the common people would dig in the places they had frequented, in hopes of finding buried treasure.

EXPLOITS AND DEATH OF WILLIAM WALLACE, THE "HERO OF SCOTLAND"

A.D. 1297-1305

SIR WALTER SCOTT

When the granddaughter and sole heiress of King Alexander III of Scotland was betrothed, in her sixth year, 1288, to the son of Edward I of England, an early union of the English and Scottish crowns seemed assured. But the death of the little princess, two years later, left the throne of Scotland vacant, and was followed by the rise of thirteen claimants, three of whom were entitled to serious regard—John de Baliol, Lord of Galloway; Robert Bruce, Lord of Annandale; and John Hastings, Lord of Abergavenny, all descended from David, brother of William the Lion, King of Scotland, 1165-1214.

Edward I of England at once assumed all the rights of a feudal suzerain until the disputed claims should be settled. Finally the claim of Baliol was recognized, he did homage to Edward for his services to the realm of Scotland, and for a time peace prevailed. But when Edward called upon the Scottish nobles to serve in his foreign wars, and made other demands implying the dependence of Scotland, the resentment of Baliol's subjects forced him into an attitude of war. In 1295 he made an alliance against Edward with Philip the Fair of France. In 1296 Edward invaded Scotland, took Berwick and slaughtered eight thousand of its citizens; defeated the Scots at Dunbar; occupied Edinburgh, Stirling, and Perth; compelled Baliol to surrender, and sent him to the Tower of London. Edward then made Scotland a dependency of his crown.

This submission was not the act of the people, but of their leaders. "The Scots assembled in troops and companies, and betaking themselves to the woods, mountains, and morasses, prepared for a general insurrection against the English power."

They found their leader in the outlawed knight, William Wallace. Wallace was born about 1274. Popular tradition, which "delights to dwell upon the beloved champion of the people," has invested him with many striking qualities, ascribing to him a gigantic stature and enormous strength, as well as extraordinary courage. Little, if anything, is really known of his personality and private life; while all that belongs to history concerning him is told by his celebrated and admiring fellow-countryman, Sir Walter Scott, in the following narrative.

Wallace is believed to have been proclaimed an outlaw for the slaughter of an Englishman in a casual fray. He retreated to the woods, collected around him a band of men as desperate as himself, and obtained several successes in skirmishes with the English. Joined by Sir William Douglas, who had been taken at the siege of Berwick, but had been discharged upon ransom, the insurgents compelled Edward to send an army against them, under the Earl of Surrey, the victor of Dunbar. Several of the nobility, moved by Douglas' example, had joined Wallace's standard, but overawed at the approach of the English army, and displeased to act under a man, like Wallace, of comparatively obscure birth, they capitulated with Sir Henry Percy, the nephew of Surrey, and in one word changed sides.

Wallace kept the field at the head of a considerable army, partly consisting of his own experienced followers, partly of the smaller barons or crown tenants, and partly of vassals even of the apostate lords, and volunteers of every condition. By the exertion of much conduct and resolution, Wallace had made himself master of the country beyond Forth, and taken several castles, when he was summoned to Stirling to oppose Surrey, the English Governor of Scotland. Wallace encamped on the northern side of the river, leaving Stirling bridge apparently open to the English, but resolving, as it was long and narrow, to attack them while in the act of crossing. The Earl of Surrey led fifty thousand infantry and a thousand men-at-arms. Part of his soldiers, however, were the Scottish barons who had formerly joined Wallace's standard, and who, notwithstanding their return to that of Surrey, were scarcely to be trusted.

The English treasurer, Cressingham, murmured at the expense attending the war, and, to bring it to a crisis, proposed to commence an attack the next morning by crossing the river. Surrey, an experienced warrior, hesitated to engage his troops in the defile of a wooden bridge, where scarce two horsemen could ride abreast; but, urged by the imprudent vehemence of Cressingham, he advanced, contrary to common-sense as well as to his own judgment. The vanguard of the English was attacked before they could get into order; the bridge was broken down, and thousands perished in the river and by the sword. Cressingham was slain, and Surrey fled to Berwick to recount to Edward that Scotland was lost at Stirling in as short a time as it had been won at Dunbar. In a brief period after this victory, almost all the fortresses of the kingdom surrendered to Wallace.

Increasing his forces, Wallace, that he might gratify them with plunder, led them across the English border, and sweeping it lengthwise from Newcastle to the gates of Carlisle, left nothing behind him but blood and ashes. The nature of Wallace was fierce, but not inaccessible to pity or remorse. As his unruly soldiers pillaged the church of Hexham, he took the canons under his immediate protection. "Abide with me," he said, "holy men, for my people are evil-doers, and I may not correct them." When he returned from this successful foray, an assembly of the states was held at the Forest Church in Selkirkshire, where Wallace was chosen guardian of the kingdom of Scotland. The meeting was attended by Lennox, Sir William Douglas, and some few men of rank: others were absent from fear of King Edward, or from jealousy of an inferior person, like Wallace, raised to so high a station.

Conscious of the interest which he had deservedly maintained in the breast of the universal people of Scotland, Wallace pursued his judicious plans of enforcing general levies through the kingdom and bringing them under discipline. It was full time, for Edward was moving against them. The English monarch was absent in Flanders when these events took place, and, what was still more inconvenient, before he could gain supplies from his parliament to suppress the Scottish revolt, Edward found himself obliged to confirm Magna Charta, the charter of the forest, and other stipulations in favor of the people; the English being prudent, though somewhat selfishly disposed to secure their own freedom before they would lend their swords to destroy that of their neighbors.

Complying with these demands, Edward, on his return from the Low Countries, found himself at the head of a gallant muster of all the English chivalry, forming by far the most superb army that had ever entered Scotland. Wallace acted with great sagacity, and, according to a plan which often before and after proved successful in Scottish warfare, laid waste the intermediate country between Stirling and the frontiers, and withdrew toward the centre of the kingdom to receive the English attack, when their army should be exhausted by privation.

Edward pressed on, with characteristic hardihood and resolution. Tower and town fell before him; but his advance was not without such inconvenience and danger as a less determined monarch would have esteemed a good apology for retreat. His army suffered from want of provisions, which were at length supplied in small quantities by some of his ships. As the English King lay at Kirkliston, in West Lothian, a tumult broke out between the Welsh and English in his army, which, after costing some blood, was quelled with difficulty. While Edward hesitated whether to advance or retreat, he learned, through the treachery of two apostate Scottish nobles, the earls of Dunbar and Angus, that Wallace, with the Scottish army, had approached so near as Falkirk.

This advance was doubtless made with the purpose of annoying the expected retreat of the English. Edward, thus apprised that the Scots were in his vicinity, determined to compel them to action. He broke up his camp, and, advancing with caution, slept the next night in the fields along with the soldiers. But the casualties of the campaign were not yet exhausted. His war-horse, which was picketed beside him, like that of an ordinary man-at-arms, struck the King with his foot and hurt him in the side. A tumult arose in the camp, but Edward, regardless of pain, appeased it by mounting his horse, riding through the cantonments, and showing the soldiers that he was in safety.

Next morning, July 22, 1298, the armies met. The Scottish infantry were drawn up on a moor, with a morass in front. They were divided into four phalanxes or dense masses, with lances lowered obliquely over each other, and seeming, says an English historian, like a castle walled with steel. These spearmen were the flower of the army, in whom Wallace chiefly confided. He commanded them in person, and used the brief exhortation, "I have brought you to the ring; dance as you best can."

The Scottish archers, under the command of Sir John Stewart, brother of the Steward of Scotland, were drawn up in the intervals between the masses of infantry. They were chiefly brought from the wooded district of Selkirk. We hear of no Highland bowmen among them. The cavalry, which amounted to only one thousand men-at-arms, held the rear.

The English cavalry began the action. The Marshal of England led half of the men-at-arms straight upon the Scottish front, but in doing so involved them in the morass. The Bishop of Durham, who commanded the other division of the English cavalry, was wheeling round the morass on the east, and, perceiving this misfortune, became disposed to wait for support. "To mass, Bishop!" said Ralph Basset of Drayton, and charged with the whole body. The Scottish men-at-arms went off without couching their lances; but the infantry stood their ground firmly. In the turmoil that followed, Sir John Stewart fell from his horse and was slain among the archers of Ettrick, who died in defending or avenging him.

The close bodies of Scottish spearmen, now exposed without means of defence or retaliation, were shaken by the constant showers of arrows; and the English men-at-arms finally charging them desperately while they were in disorder, broke and dispersed these formidable masses. The Scots were then completely routed, and it was only the neighboring woods which saved a remnant from the sword. The body of Stewart was found among those of his faithful archers, who were distinguished by their stature and fair complexions from all others with which the field was loaded. Macduff and Sir John the Grahame, "the hardy wight and wise," still fondly remembered as the bosom friend of Sir William Wallace, were slain in the same disastrous action.

Popular report states this battle to have been lost by treachery; and the communication between the earls of Dunbar and Angus and King Edward, as well as the disgraceful flight of the Scottish cavalry without a single blow, corroborates the suspicion. But the great superiority of the English in archery may account for the loss of this as of many another battle on the part of the Scots. The bowmen of Ettrick Forest were faithful; but they could only be few. So nearly had Wallace's scheme for the campaign been successful, that Edward, even after having gained this great battle, returned to England, and deferred reaping the harvest of his conquest till the following season. If he had not been able to bring the Scottish army to action, his retreat must have been made with discredit and loss, and Scotland must have been left in the power of the patriots.

The slaughter and disgrace of the battle of Falkirk might have been repaired in other respects, but it cost the Scottish kingdom an irredeemable loss in the public services of Wallace. He resigned the guardianship of the kingdom, unable to discharge its duties, amid the calumnies with which faction and envy aggravated his defeat. The Bishop of St. Andrew's, Bruce, Earl of Carrick, and Sir John Comyn were chosen guardians of Scotland, which they administered in the name of Baliol. In the mean time that unfortunate Prince was, in compassion or scorn, delivered up to the Pope by Edward, and a receipt was gravely taken for his person from the nuncio then in France. This led to the entrance of a new competitor for the Scottish kingdom.

The Pontiff of Rome had been long endeavoring to establish a claim, to whatsoever should be therein found, to which a distinct and specific right of property could not be ascertained. The Pontiff's claim to the custody of the dethroned King being readily admitted, Boniface VIII was encouraged to publish a bull claiming Scotland as a dependency on the see of Rome because the country had been converted to Christianity by the relics of St. Andrew.

The Pope, in the same document, took the claim of Edward to the Scottish crown under his own discussion, and authoritatively commanded Edward I to send proctors to Rome to plead his cause before his holiness. This magisterial requisition was presented by the Archbishop of Canterbury to the King, in the presence of the council and court, the prelate at the same time warning the sovereign to yield unreserved obedience, since Jerusalem would not fail to protect her citizens, and Mount Zion her worshippers. "Neither for Zion nor Jerusalem," said Edward, in towering wrath, "will I depart from my just rights while there is breath in my nostrils."

Accordingly he caused the Pope's bull to be laid before the Parliament of England, who unanimously resolved "that in temporals the King of England was independent of Rome, and that they would not permit his sovereignty to be questioned." Their declaration concludes with these remarkable words: "We neither do, will, nor can permit our sovereign to do anything to the detriment of the constitution, which we are both sworn to and are determined to maintain"—a spirited assertion of national right, had it not been in so bad a cause as that of Edward's claim of usurpation over Scotland.

Meantime the war languished during this strange discussion, from which the Pope was soon obliged to retreat. There was an inefficient campaign in 1299 and 1300. In 1301 there was a truce, in which Scotland as well as France was included. After the expiry of this breathing space, Edward I, in the spring of 1302, sent an army into Scotland of twenty thousand men, under Sir John Seward, a renowned general. He marched toward Edinburgh in three divisions, leaving large intervals between each.

While in this careless order, Seward's vanguard found themselves suddenly within reach of a small but chosen body of troops, amounting to eight thousand men, commanded by Sir John Comyn, the guardian, and a gallant Scottish knight, Sir Simon Fraser. Seward was defeated, but the battle was scarce over when his second division came up. The Scots, flushed with victory, reestablished their ranks, and having cruelly put to death their prisoners, attacked and defeated the second body also. The third division came up in the same manner. Again it became necessary to kill the captives, and to prepare for a third encounter. The Scottish leaders did so without hesitation, and their followers, having thrown themselves furiously on the enemy, discomfited that division likewise, and gained—as their historians boast—three battles in one day.

But the period seemed to be approaching in which neither courage nor exertion could longer avail the unfortunate people of Scotland. A peace with France, in which Philip the Fair totally omitted all stipulations in favor of his allies, left the kingdom to its own inadequate means of resistance, while Edward directed his whole force against it. The castle of Brechin, under the gallant Sir Thomas Maule, made an obstinate resistance. He was mortally wounded and died in an exclamation of rage against the soldiers, who asked if they might not then surrender the castle. Edward wintered at Dunfermline, and began the next campaign with the siege of Stirling, the only fortress in the kingdom that still held out. But the courage of the guardians altogether gave way; they set the example of submission, and such of them as had been most obstinate in what the English King called rebellion, were punished by various degrees of fine and banishment.

With respect to Sir William Wallace, it was agreed that he might have the choice of surrendering himself unconditionally to the King's pleasure, provided he thought proper to do so; a stipulation which, as it signified nothing in favor of the person for whom it was apparently conceived, must be imputed as a pretext on the part of the Scottish nobles to save themselves from the disgrace of having left Wallace altogether unthought of. Some attempts were made to ascertain what sort of accommodation Edward was likely to enter into with the bravest and most constant of his enemies; but the demands of Wallace were large, and the generosity of Edward very small. The English King broke off the treaty, and put a price of three hundred marks on the head of the patriot.

Meantime Stirling castle continued to be defended by a slender garrison, and, deprived of all hopes of relief, continued to make a desperate defence, under its brave governor, Sir William Olifaunt, until famine and despair compelled him to an unconditional surrender, when the King imposed the harshest terms on this handful of brave men.

But what Edward prized more than the surrender of the last fortress which resisted his arms in Scotland was the captivity of her last patriot. He had found in a Scottish nobleman, Sir John Monteith, a person willing to become his agent in searching for Wallace among the wilds where he was driven to find refuge. Wallace was finally betrayed to the English by his unworthy and apostate countryman, who obtained an opportunity of seizing him at Robroyston, near Glasgow, by the treachery of a servant.

Sir William Wallace was instantly transferred to London, where he was brought to trial in Westminster Hall, with as much apparatus of infamy as the ingenuity of his enemies could devise. He was crowned with a garland of oak, to intimate that he had been king of outlaws. The arraignment charged him with high treason, in respect that he had stormed and taken towns and castles, and shed much blood. "Traitor," said Wallace, "was I never." The rest of the charges he confessed and proceeded to justify them. He was condemned, and executed by decapitation, 1305. His head was placed on a pinnacle on London bridge, and his quarters were distributed over the kingdom.

Thus died this courageous patriot, leaving a remembrance which will be immortal in the hearts of his countrymen. This steady champion of independence having been removed, and a bloody example held out to all who should venture to tread in his footsteps, Edward proceeded to form a species of constitution for the country, which, at the cost of so much labor, policy, and bloodshed, he had at length, as he conceived, united forever with the English crown.

Ten commissioners chosen for Scotland and twenty for England composed a set of regulations for the administration of justice, and enactments were agreed upon by which the feudal law, which had been long introduced into Scotland, was strengthened and extended, while the remains of the ancient municipal customs of the original Celtic tribes, or the consuetudinary laws of the Scots and Bretts—the Scotto-Irish and British races—were finally abrogated. This was for the purpose of promoting a uniformity of laws through the islands. Sheriffs and other officers were appointed for the administration of justice. There were provisions also made for a general revision of the ancient laws and statutes of Scotland.

FIRST GREAT JUBILEE OF THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH

A.D. 1300

FERDINAND GREGOROVIUS

Benedetto Gaetani, born at Anagni, Italy, about 1228—whom contemporary poets and historians also consigned to infamy—occupied the pontifical throne but ten years, 1294-1303, but those were years of almost continual strife. It is indeed likely that partisanship painted him, in some respects, with colors too black, attributing to him crimes of which he was not guilty. But even these exaggerations of dispraise were due to the unquestioned facts of his character and career. When at length Boniface was worsted in his quarrel with Philip the Fair, a widespread reaction began on the part of the laity against ecclesiastical assumptions, and the great dramatic act by which, under Hildebrand, the papacy first displayed its power had its counterpart in the manner of its decline. "The drama of Anagni is to be set against the drama of Canossa."

But Boniface enjoyed one year of triumph scarcely paralleled in all the experience of his fellow-pontiffs. This was the closing year of the thirteenth century. Taking advantage of a fresh wave of religious enthusiasm which then swept over Europe, the Pope called upon the Christian world—almost at peace from long warfare—to celebrate a jubilee. The institution of the Catholic jubilee is generally considered as dating from this celebration, though some writers refer its establishment to the pontificate of Innocent III, a century earlier.

Boniface VIII inaugurated the fourteenth century with a pilgrimage festival which has become renowned. The centennial jubilee had been celebrated in ancient Rome by magnificent games; the recollections of these games, however, had expired, and no tidings inform us whether the close or beginning of a century was marked in Christian Rome by any ecclesiastical festival. The immense processions of pilgrims to St. Peter's had ceased during the crusades; the crusades ended, the old longing reawoke among the people and drew them again to the graves of the apostles. The pious impulse was fostered in no small degree by the shrewdness of the Roman priests.

About the Christmas of 1299—and with Christmas, according to the style of the Roman curia, the year ended—crowds flocked both from the city and country to St. Peter's. A cry, promising remission of sins to those who made the pilgrimage to Rome, resounded throughout the world and forced it into movement. Boniface gave form and sanction to the growing impulse by promulgating the bull of jubilee of February 22, 1300, which promised remission of sins to all who should visit the basilicas of St. Peter and St. Paul during the year. The pilgrimage of Italians was to last for thirty days, that of foreigners for fifteen. The enemies of the Church were alone excluded. As such the Pope designated Frederick of Sicily, the Colonnas and their adherents, and, curiously enough, all Christians who held traffic with Saracens. Boniface consequently made use of the jubilee to brand his enemies and to exclude them from the privileges of Christian grace.

The pressure toward Rome was unexampled. The city presented the aspect of a camp where crowds of pilgrims, that resembled armies, thronged incessantly in and out. A spectator standing on one of the heights of the city might have seen swarms like wandering tribes approach along the ancient Roman roads from north, south, east, and west; and, had he mixed among them, might have had difficulty in discovering their home. Italians, Provençals, Frenchmen, Hungarians, Slavs, Germans, Spaniards, even Englishmen came.

Italy gave free passage to pilgrims and kept the Truce of God. The crowds arrived, wearing the pilgrim's mantle or clad in their national dress, on foot, on horseback, or on cars, leading the ill and weary, and laden with their luggage. Veterans of a hundred were led by their grandsons; and youths bore, like Æneas, father or mother on their shoulders. They spoke in many dialects, but they all sang in the same language the litanies of the Church, and their longing dreams had but one and the same object.

On beholding in the sunny distance the dark forest of towers of the holy city they raised the exultant shout, "Rome, Rome!" like sailors who after a tedious voyage catch their first glimpse of land. They threw themselves down in prayer and rose again with the fervent cry, "St. Peter and St. Paul, have mercy." They were received at the gates by their countrymen and by guardians appointed by the city to show them their quarters; nevertheless, they first made their way to St. Peter's, ascended the steps of the vestibule on their knees, and then threw themselves in ecstasies on the grave of the apostle.

During an entire year Rome swarmed with pilgrims and was filled with a perfect babel of tongues. It was said that thirty thousand pilgrims entered and left the city daily, and that daily two hundred thousand pilgrims might have been found within it. An exemplary administration provided for order and for moderate prices. The year was fruitful, the Campagna and the neighboring provinces sent supplies in abundance. One of the pilgrims who was a chronicler relates that "bread, wine, meat, fish, and oats were plentiful and cheap in the market; the hay, however, was very dear; the inns so expensive that I was obliged to pay for my bed and the stabling of my horse (beyond the hay and oats) a Tornese groat a day. As I left Rome on Christmas eve, I saw so large a party of pilgrims depart that no one could count the number. The Romans reckon that altogether they have had two millions of men and women. I frequently saw both sexes trodden under foot, and it was sometimes with difficulty that I escaped the same fate myself."

The way that led from the city across the bridge of St. Angelo to St. Peter's was too narrow; a new street was therefore opened in the walls along the river, not far from the ancient tomb known as Meta Romuli. The bridge was covered with booths, which divided it in two, and in order to prevent accidents it was enacted that those going to St. Peter's should keep to one side of the bridge; those returning, to the other. Processions went incessantly to St. Paul's without the walls and to St. Peter's, where the already renowned relic, the handkerchief of Veronica, was exhibited. Every pilgrim laid an offering on the altar of the apostle, and the same chronicler of Asti assures us, as an eye-witness, that two clerics stood by the altar of St. Paul's, day and night, who with rakes in their hands gathered in untold money.

The marvellous sight of priests, who smilingly shovelled up gold like hay, caused malicious Ghibellines to assert that the Pope had appointed the jubilee solely for the sake of gain. Boniface in truth stood in need of money to defray the expenses of the war with Sicily, which swallowed up incalculable sums. If instead of copper, the monks in St. Paul's had lighted on gold florins, they would necessarily have collected fabulous wealth, but the heaps of money, both in St. Peter's and St. Paul's, consisted mainly of small coins, the gifts of poor pilgrims.

Cardinal Jacopo Stefaneschi pointedly comments on the fact, and laments the change of times, when only the poor gave offerings, and when kings no longer, like the three magi, brought gifts to the Saviour. The receipts of the jubilee, which the Pope was able to devote to the two basilicas for the purchase of estates, were sufficiently considerable. If in ordinary years the gifts of pilgrims to St. Peter's amounted to thirty thousand four hundred gold florins, we may conclude how much greater must have been the gains of the year of jubilee. "The gifts of pilgrims," wrote the chronicler of Florence, "yield treasures to the Church, and the Romans all grow wealthy by the sale of their goods."

The year of jubilee was for them indeed a year of wealth. The Romans, therefore, treated the pilgrims with kindness, and nothing is heard of any act of violence. If the fall of the house of Colonna had aroused enemies to the Pope in Rome, he disarmed them by the immense profits which accrued to the Romans who have always lived solely on the money of foreigners. Their senators at this time were Richard Anibaldi of the Colosseum, from which the Anibaldi had already expelled the Frangipani, and Gentile Orsini, whose name may still be read on an inscription in the Capitol. These gentlemen did not permit the pious enthusiasm of the pilgrimage to prevent them from making war in the neighborhood. They allowed the pilgrims to pray at the altars, but they themselves advanced with the Roman banners against Toscanella, which they subjugated to the Capitol.

We may imagine on how vast a scale Rome sold relics, amulets, and images of saints, and at the same time how many remains of antiquity, coins, gems, rings, statues, marble remains, and also manuscripts were carried back by the pilgrims to their homes. When they had sufficiently satisfied their religious instincts, these pilgrims turned with astonished gaze to the monuments of the past.

Ancient Rome, through which they wandered, the book of the Mirabilia in their hand, exercised its profound spell upon them. Besides the recollections of antiquity other memories of the deeds of popes and emperors, from the time of Charles the Great, animated this classic theatre of the world in the year 1300. Every mind, alive to the language of history, must have felt deeply the influence of the city at this time, when troops of pilgrims from every country, wandering in this world of majestic ruins, bore living testimony to the eternal ties which bound Rome to mankind. It can scarcely be doubted that Dante beheld the city in these days, and that a ray from them fell on his immortal poem which begins with Easter week of the year 1300.

The sight of the capital of the world inspired the soul of another Florentine. "I also found myself," writes Giovanni Villani, "in that blessed pilgrimage to the holy city of Rome, and as I beheld the great and ancient things within her, and read the histories and the great deeds of the Romans—which Vergil, Sallust, Lucan, Titus Livius, Valerius, Paul Orosius, and other great masters of history have described—I took style and form from them, although as a pupil I was not worthy to do so great a work. And thus in 1300, returned from Rome, I began to write this book to the honor of God and St. John and to the commendation of our city of Florence." The fruit of Villani's creative enthusiasm was his history of Florence, the greatest and most naive chronicle that has been produced in the beautiful Italian tongue; and it is possible that many other talented men may have received fruitful impressions from Rome at this time.

For Boniface the jubilee was a real victory. The crowds that streamed to Rome showed him that men still retained their belief in the city as the sacred temple of the united world. The monster festival of reconciliation seemed to flow like a river of grace over its own past, and to wipe away the hated recollection of Celestine V, of his war with the Colonnas, and all the accusations of his enemies. In these days he could revel in a feeling of almost divine power, as scarcely any pope had been able to do before him. He sat on the highest throne of the West, adorned by the spoils of empire, as the "vicar of God" on earth. As the dogmatic ruler of the world, the keys of blessing and destruction in his hand, he beheld thousands from distant lands come before his throne and cast themselves in the dust before him as before a higher being. Kings, however, he did not see. Beyond Charles Martel, no monarch came to Rome to receive, as a penitent, absolution for his sins. This shows that the faith, which the battles of Alexander III and Innocent III had formerly won, was extinguished at royal courts.

Boniface VIII closed the memorable festival on Christmas Eve of the year 1300. It forms an epoch in the history of the papacy, as in that of Rome. The year of jubilee and enthusiasm was followed, in terrible contrast, by the tragic end of the Pope, the fall of the papacy from its height, and the decline of Rome to a condition of awful solitude.

CHRONOLOGY OF UNIVERSAL HISTORY

EMBRACING THE PERIOD COVERED IN THIS VOLUME

A.D. 1162-1300

JOHN RUDD, LL.D.

CHRONOLOGY OF UNIVERSAL HISTORY

EMBRACING THE PERIOD COVERED IN THIS VOLUME A.D. 1162-1300

JOHN RUDD, LL.D.

Events treated at length are here indicated in large type; the numerals following give volume and page.

Separate chronologies of the various nations, and of the careers of famous persons, will be found in the INDEX VOLUME, with volume and page references showing where the several events are fully treated.

A.D.

1162. Surrender and destruction of the city of Milan; the whole of Lombardy submits to Frederick.

Thomas Becket, appointed archbishop of Canterbury, resigns the chancellorship. See "ARCHIEPISCOPATE OF THOMAS BECKET," vi, i. Flight of Pope Alexander III into France.

1163. Council of Tours; Alexander declares void all the acts of his opponents; stringent decrees against the heretics of Southern France, called Manicheans, Paulicians, and afterward Albigenses.

1164. Henry II convokes an assembly of barons and prelates; they enact the Constitutions of Clarendon. See "ARCHIEPISCOPATE OF THOMAS BECKET," vi, i.

1167. General league of the Lombard cities formed; Milan rebuilt. Emperor Frederick Barbarossa defeats the Sicilian auxiliaries of Pope Alexander, captures Rome, and seats Antipope Paschal.

1168. Success of the Lombard League; they found a new city, named Alessandria, in honor of the Pope. See "THE PEACE OF CONSTANCE," vi, 28.

1169. Richard Strongbow, with other knights, begins the English conquest of Ireland; Wexford, Waterford, and Dublin captured.

1170. Peter Waldo, a citizen of Lyons, founds a preaching society, afterward called Waldenses.

1171. End of the Fatimite dynasty in Egypt; Saladin, acting for Noureddin, becomes supreme head.

Henry II lands with an army at Waterford, Ireland; his own knights and many Irish chiefs do homage to him for their lands.

1173. Henry II appears before the papal legates and receives absolution for Becket's death; his Queen, Eleanor, jealous of Fair Rosamond, incites her sons to rebel against their father; Louis, King of France, supports them, and David of Scotland invades England.

Henry II does penance at Becket's tomb; he defeats and captures the
King of Scotland, and quells the insurrection of his sons. The Leaning
Tower of Pisa commenced.

1176. Frederick I is defeated at Legnano by the forces of the Lombard League. See "THE PEACE OF CONSTANCE," vi, 28.

Peter Coleman commences the erection of the first stone bridge across the Thames at London.

1177. Meeting of Emperor Frederick and Pope Alexander; a treaty is concluded between them.

Henry II divides England into six circuits, through which he sends justices twice a year to administer the law in each county.

1178. A fleet is sent by the King of Sicily to assist the Christians in Palestine.

1179. Eleventh general council, Third of the Lateran, declares that the true pope must be elected by two-thirds of the cardinals; one of its canons condemns the Waldenses, and their translation of their Bible is suppressed.

1180. Death of Louis VII; his son Philip Augustus succeeds to the French throne.

Henry the Lion, placed under the ban of the empire, has his Bavarian domains sequestered and his Saxon kingdom partitioned.

1183. Lombard cities secure their freedom. See "THE PEACE OF CONSTANCE," vi, 28.

Baldwin IV, disabled by leprosy, resigns the crown of Jerusalem to his nephew, Baldwin V.

1184. Diet of Mainz; the functions and dignities of the electors of Germany settled.

1185. Tumults at Constantinople; Andronicus murdered, which ends the Comneni dynasty; Isaac Angelus made emperor.

Prince Arthur, grandson of Henry II, born after the death of his father, Geoffrey, Duke of Brittany.

1186. Marriage of the Emperor's son, Henry, to Constance, heiress of the throne of the Two Sicilies; they are crowned king and queen of Italy at Milan.

1187. Battle of Tiberias. See "SALADIN TAKES JERUSALEM FROM THE CHRISTIANS," vi, 41.

1188. Imposition of the "tithe of Saladin," on behalf of the crusaders in England. King Richard says he "would sell London itself" to aid the cause. See "THE THIRD CRUSADE," vi, 54.

Tancred, natural son of Roger, is invited by the Sicilians to occupy the throne; he is supported by the Pope against Constance and her husband.

Frederick Barbarossa sets out on the Third Crusade. See "THE THIRD
CRUSADE," vi, 54.

1190. King Richard of England claims the dowry of his sister, Joan, widow of the late King of Sicily.

Emperor Frederick is drowned. See "THE THIRD CRUSADE," vi, 54. A wealthy German, to aid his poor countrymen at Acre, founds the order of Teutonic Knights. See "THE TEUTONIC KNIGHTS," vi, 68.

1191. Pope Celestin III allows the Romans to destroy Tusculum; the expelled inhabitants build Frascati.

1192. The Order of the Garter said to have been originated by Richard I of England at Acre.

After leaving Palestine, Richard is shipwrecked near Aquileia; he is imprisoned and held for ransom by Emperor Henry VI.

1193. Pope Celestin III threatens to excommunicate the princes who hold King Richard in captivity.

John Lackland, brother of Richard, King of England, attempts to usurp the throne; he is resisted by the barons.

1194. Richard, after having been a captive for more than a year, is released for a ransom of 150,000 marks, raised by his subjects. He returns to England, declares war against Philip Augustus, and invades Normandy. He pardons his brother John.

Emperor Henry VI puts an end to the Norman line in Sicily; he founds the Hohenstaufen dynasty there.

1195. Battle of Alarcos; Alfonso the Noble, King of Castile, defeated by the Moors.

1198. Contest for the crowns of Germany and Italy between Philip of Swabia, supported by the Ghibellines, and Otho of Brunswick, son of Henry the Lion, aided by the Guelfs.

Battle of Gisors, France; Richard Coeur de Lion defeats the French; his war-cry, "Dieu et mon droit" later became the motto to the arms of England.

1199. Richard Coeur de Lion is slain while contesting with one of his
French vassals. John usurps the throne of England to the exclusion of
Prince Arthur. See "PHILIP OF FRANCE WINS THE FRENCH DOMAINS
OF THE ENGLISH KINGS," vi, 86.

A quarrel between Parma and Placentia inflames a general war among the cities of Lombardy.

1200. King John and Philip Augustus, the latter forsaking Arthur's cause, come to terms.

Pope Innocent III compels Philip Augustus to take back his queen, whom he had divorced.

1201. Fourth Crusade undertaken by Baldwin of Flanders, Simon de Montfort, and Boniface of Montserrat; treaty of the nobles of France and Flanders with Venice.

1202. Venice secures the help of the crusaders by agreeing to transport them to Palestine, in place of a part of the payment, in the conquest of the city of Zara, then in rebellion.

Prince Arthur made prisoner by his uncle, King John, who murders him. See "PHILIP OF FRANCE WINS THE FRENCH DOMAINS OF THE ENGLISH KINGS," vi, 86.

1203. Constantinople attacked and taken by the Venetians and crusaders, who restore the emperor Isaac Angelus.

A great Mongol empire raised by Ghengis Khan. See "FOUNDING OF THE
MONGOL EMPIRE BY GHENGIS KHAN," vi, 103.

1204. Constantinople in revolt. See "VENETIANS AND CRUSADERS TAKE CONSTANTINOPLE," vi, 121.

Loss of Normandy and other French possessions by King John of England. See "PHILIP OF FRANCE WINS THE FRENCH DOMAINS OF THE ENGLISH KINGS," vi, 86.

Foundation of the Latin Empire of the East. See "LATIN EMPIRE OF THE
EAST," vi, 140.

1206. Henry of Flanders elected emperor of Constantinople; he vainly attempts to remedy the civil and ecclesiastical confusion in his dominions.

Theodore Lascaris, son-in-law of Alexius III, establishes the Greek empire of Nicaea.

1207. Stephen Langton consecrated archbishop of Canterbury by Innocent III; resistance of King John. See "INNOCENT III EXALTS THE PAPAL POWER," vi, 156.

An interdict laid on England as King John persists in rejecting
Stephen Langton. See "INNOCENT III EXALTS THE PAPAL POWER," vi, 156.

Assassination of Philip of Swabia by Otho, Count of Wittelsbach; Otho
IV becomes emperor of Germany in place of his father.

Salinguerra, leader of the Ghibellines at Ferrara, expels the marquis
Azzo and the Guelfs.

Massacre of the Albigenses by the crusaders, at Beziers, France. See
"INNOCENT III EXALTS THE PAPAL POWER," vi, 156.

1210. Emperor Otho IV claims Sicily of Frederick II of Hohenstaufen; he attempts its conquest. He is excommunicated by the Pope.

Fourteen heretics are condemned to the flames by the Council of Paris; the works of Aristotle are ordered to be burned, and the future translation and reading of them forbidden.

1212. Frederick of Hohenstaufen, supported by Innocent III, wars with Otho for the German crown.

Battle of Navasde Tolosa; the kings of Castile, Aragon, and Navarre crush the Moors and destroy the Almohade power in Spain.

1213. King John of England submits to the Pope. See "INNOCENT III EXALTS THE PAPAL POWER," vi, 156.

Subjugation of the Albigenses by Simon de Montfort, who is awarded the principality of Toulouse,

1214. Battle of Bouvines; victory of Philip Augustus over Otho IV, supported by English and Flemish auxiliaries.

1215. Transubstantiation declared, by the twelfth general council, to be a doctrine of the Church; auricular confession enforced; it transfers the greater part of the lands of Count Raymond, the late Albigenses leader, to Simon de Montfort.

1216. Invited by the English barons, Louis, son of Philip Augustus, lands in England with an army; King John marches to meet him; he loses his baggage and many men in the Lincolnshire quicksands; he flees to Newark and there dies of chagrin. Henry III succeeds John; the Earl of Pembroke Protector.

1217. A fifth crusade; Andrew II, King of Hungary, and other princes head the expedition.

Simon de Montfort, during a revolt, is slain at the siege of Toulouse.
Louis is defeated by the Protector, Pembroke, and returns to France.

1218. Andrew withdraws from the crusade; it is continued by William I, Count of Holland, and John of Brienne.

A bull of Pope Honorius III forbids the teaching of the civil law in the University of Paris.

1220. Imperial coronation of the Hohenstaufen Frederick II. Turkestan is overrun by the Mongols, who capture Bokhara and Samarkand.

1222. Signing of the Golden Bull of Hungary. See "THE GOLDEN BULL, 'HUNGARY'S MAGNA CHARTA,' SIGNED," vi, 191.

1223. Death of Philip Augustus; his son, Louis VIII, succeeds to the French throne.

Pope Honorius III convenes a congress at Florence; Emperor Frederick pledges himself to proceed on the crusade within two years, and to marry John de Brienne's daughter, Yolanthe.

1224. Victory over the Russians by the Mongols on the Kalka. See "RUSSIA CONQUERED BY THE TARTAR HORDES," vi, 196.

Frederick, after obtaining a further delay of two years for his crusade, marries Yolanthe. See "THE SIXTH CRUSADE," vi, 208.

1226. Death of Louis VIII; his son, Louis IX (St. Louis), succeeds under the regency of his mother, Blanche of Castile.

1227. Death of Pope Honorius III; Gregory IX, who succeeds him, urges the crusade; Frederick's first expedition miscarries. See "THE SIXTH CRUSADE," vi, 208.

Great disorders in Italy; the Gyelf partisans are driven out of Verona and Vicenza.

1228. Death of Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury; his successor, Edmund, preserves Magna Charta from being infringed.

1230. Reconciliation of Emperor Frederick II and Pope Gregory IX. First arrival of the Teutonic Knights in Prussia.

Theodor, Emperor of Thessalonica, defeated, made prisoner, and blinded by Asan, King of Bulgaria; his brother, Manuel, usurps the throne.

1231. Summoned to assist the Poles, the Teutonic Knights defeat the pagan Prussians and found their dominions on the shores of the Baltic.

Four hundred families of Oghusian Tartars, driven from Khorassan, effect a settlement near Mount Olympus; from these the Ottomans descend.

1232. Distracted by civil wars the Moors in Spain are defeated at Seville by Ferdinand III of Leon and Castile, and lose the Balearic Islands to James, King of Aragon.

1233. Conrad of Marburg, the first inquisitor of Germany, put to death for his cruelty.

1234. Pope Gregory IX driven from Rome by the senate and citizens, who resist his temporal power and seize his revenues; he appeals to Emperor Frederick II for assistance.

1235. Marriage of Frederick II to Isabella, sister of Henry III of England. He forbids the extravagant payments usually made on such occasions to buffoons, mimics, and players.

1236. Ezzelino da Romano, the Ghibelline leader, joins Emperor Frederick II in war upon the Lombard League.

Union of the Knights Swordbearers, founded 1186, with the Teutonic
Knights in Prussia; they extend their conquests.

1239. Frederick II, having married his natural son, Enzio, to Adelaide, heiress of the two principalities of Torri and Gallura, creates him king of Sardinia. Pope Gregory IX claims the island and excommunicates the Emperor, denouncing him as a heretic and absolving his subjects from their allegiance.

1240. Emperor Frederick II advances against Pope Gregory IX and threatens Rome. The Pope declares a crusade against him.

Batu Khan, at the head of Mongols of the Golden Horde, overruns and devastates Russia.

On the Neva, Alexander, Prince of Novgorod, gains a great victory over the Swedes.

1241. Hamburg and Lubeck form an alliance to protect their commerce. See "RISE OF THE HANSEATIC LEAGUE," vi, 214.

Central Europe is invaded by the Mongols, or Tartars, who vanquish the Silesians, Poles, and Teutonic Knights at Wahlstatt; they defeat the Hungarians on the Sajo.

A Pisan and Sicilian fleet, by order of Frederick II, captures twenty-two Genoese galleys in which cardinals, prelates, and ambassadors, summoned by the Pope, were proceeding to hold a council at Rome; the prisoners were held at Naples and Apulia.

Alexander Nevski, son of Jaroslav, defeats the Swedes and Knights
Swordbearers at Lake Peipus.

1243. Frederick II urges the cardinals to appoint a pope; he releases some of his prisoners to attend the conclave.

Pope Innocent IV escapes from Rome and fixes his court at Lyons.
Earliest use of the word "parliament" in England.

1245. Thirteenth general council (Lyons) convened by Pope Innocent IV; it proclaims the deposition of Frederick II. A new crusade is ordered.

1248. First crusade of Louis IX of France. See "Louis IX LEADS THE LAST CRUSADE," vi, 275.

1250. Battle of Mansourah; total defeat of the crusaders by the Egyptians; King Louis IX captured with his army; they are released on restoring Damietta and promising to abstain from future hostilities.

Turan Shah, Sultan of Egypt, assassinated by the mamelukes. See
"MAMELUKES USURP POWER IN EGYPT," vi, 240.

Death of Emperor Frederick II; his son Conrad succeeds as king of Italy; he is acknowledged as king of Germany by most of the temporal princes. William II, Count of Holland, assisted by the ecclesiastical states and the papal party, contests the imperial dignity.

Waldeman, King of Sweden, introduces the mariner's compass among the navigators of the Baltic.

Florence adopts a democratic government; peace obtained between the
Guelfs and Ghibellines.

1251. Ottocar, son of Wenceslaus I of Bohemia, acquires Austria. Pope Innocent IV returns to Italy; he visits Genoa, Milan, and other cities, and fixes his residence in Perugia.

1252. Crusading movement of the "Pastors." This originated in France on receipt of the news of St. Louis' expedition; there occurred an outbreak of fanaticism as insensate as that of the Children's Crusade. A Hungarian, named Jacob, proclaimed that Christ rejected the great ones of the earth, and that the deliverance of the Holy City must be accomplished by the poor and humble. Shepherds left their flocks, laborers laid down the plough, to follow his footsteps. "Pastors" was the name given to these village crusaders.

1253. Founding of the Sorbonne in Paris for secular ecclesiastics; its decisions on religious questions were deemed final.

1254. Death of Conrad IV, last of the Hohenstaufen emperors; his heir is Conradin, his infant son. In Germany, William is acknowledged; Pope Innocent IV attempts to wrest the Two Sicilies from the Hohenstaufens; he is defeated by the regent Manfred, uncle of Conradin.

1255. Bills of exchange in favor of Italian merchants drawn at Rome on the English bishops and abbots, which they are compelled to pay.

1257. Rival election in Germany of Richard, Earl of Cornwall, and Alfonso of Castile as kings of the Romans. The reign of both is only nominal.

1258. In England the barons form a council to advise or command the King. See "THE MAD PARLIAMENT," vi, 246.

Genoa and Venice engage in their first great conflict; the combined fleets of Venice and Pisa defeat the Genoese.

Hulaku Khan founds the Mongol empire of the Ilkhans and ends the caliphate of Bagdad.

1259. Treaty of Abbeville between Henry III, King of England, and Louis IX (St. Louis) of France.

1261. Overthrow of the Latin Empire of the East; Michael Palaeologus, assisted by Genoese forces, instals the Palaeologi dynasty on the Eastern throne; recovery of Constantinople by the Greeks. The Genoese are given important naval stations, and the Venetians are excluded from the Black Sea.

1262. Beginning of the barons' war in England; the kingly power is restored to Henry III by parliament; his son Edward brings in a foreign army to support him.

1263. Last invasion of Scotland by the Norwegians repulsed by King Alexander III.

1264. Henry III and his brother, Richard of Cornwall, are defeated and taken prisoners at Lewes by Simon de Montfort at the head of the English barons.

1265. Representation of the commons in parliament is granted by Simon de Montfort. At the battle of Evesham he is defeated and slain; the authority of the King is restored.

1266. Magnus, King of Norway, cedes the Hebrides and the Isle of Man to Scotland.

Florentine nobles (Grandi) are excluded from all part in the government of Florence.

1267. Conradin enters Italy with an army; a large part of Sicily declares in his favor.

1268. In attempting to recover the Two Sicilies from Charles, Conradin, the last of the Hohenstaufens, is captured and executed.

Beibars, Sultan of Egypt and Syria, conquers the Christian principalities of Antioch and Joppa. See "MAMELUKES USURP POWER IN EGYPT," vi, 240.

Louis IX, by a pragmatic sanction, resists the papal claim to nominate bishops in France.

1270. Louis IX, of France, by his "establishments," suppresses the wager of battle and provides for a regular administration of justice.

Venice levies a toll on the goods of Bolognese merchants; payment is refused; war between the two states follows.

1271. Crusade of Prince Edward of England; he drives Beibars from the siege of Acre and takes Mazareth; an attempt is made to murder him.

Marco Polo sets out on his travels. See "HEIGHT OF THE MONGOL POWER IN
CHINA," vi, 287.

1272. Prince Edward concludes a truce with Beibars for ten years; he leaves Palestine. End of the crusades.

A patent of nobility is granted to his silversmith by Philip III, King of France.

1273. Election of Rudolph as emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. See "FOUNDING OF THE HOUSE OF HAPSBURG," vi, 298.

1274. After a long stay in France Edward I lands in England; is crowned with his Queen, Eleanora, at Westminster.

Death of Thomas Aquinas, the "Angelic Doctor," while on his way to attend the council of Lyons.

1276. Ottocar II, of Bohemia, is vanquished by Rudolph of Hapsburg. See "FOUNDING OF THE HOUSE OF HAPSBURG," vi, 298.

Lombardy distracted by civil wars, earthquakes, floods, famine, and pestilence, followed by a severe winter of four months.

Edward I subdues Wales as far as Snowdon. See "EDWARD I CONQUERS
WALES," vi, 316.

Rudolph defeats Ottocar II at Marchfeld; he is slain. See "FOUNDING OF
THE HOUSE OF HAPSBURG," vi, 298.

1279. Edward I, of England, gives up Normandy to Philip III of France. The English Parliament passes the first statute of mortmain; it forbids the alienation in mortmain of real property to religious houses or other corporations.

1280. Kublai Khan, grandson of Ghengis Khan, completes the Mongol conquest of China.

1281. Tartars attempt the conquest of Japan. See "JAPANESE REPEL THE TARTARS," vi, 327.

Edward I further extends his conquest in Wales. See "EDWARD I
CONQUERS WALES," vi, 316.

1282. Rudolph of Hapsburg invests his sons, Albert and Rudolph, with the duchies of Austria, Styria, and Carniola, founding the house of Austria. See "FOUNDING OF THE HOUSE OF HAPSBURG," vi, 298.

A great inundation of the sea forms the Zuyder Zee, a large gulf in the Netherlands, formerly covered with forests and towns; thousands of lives are lost and all the towns and villages submerged.

1283. After a struggle of fifty years the Teutonic Knights complete their power over the Prussians.

Queen Eleanora gives birth to a son at Carnarvon castle, Wales, afterward Edward II, from whom the eldest son of the King of England takes the title of Prince of Wales. See "EDWARD I CONQUERS WALES," vi, 316.

1285. Death of Philip III of France; his son, Philip IV, succeeds. Florence is appealed to for protection by the citizens of Pisa.

1287. Destruction of the shipping and magazines in the harbor of Pisa by the Genoese.

1288. Othman, from whose name are derived the terms Ottoman and Osmanli, lays the foundation of the Turkish empire in Asia Minor.

1289. The Ghibellines of Arezzo and their allies are defeated by the Florentines at Campaldino.

1290. Edward I expels the Jews from England. See "EXPULSION OF JEWS FROM ENGLAND," vi, 356.

Death of the "Maid of Norway," Queen of Scotland; John Balliol, Robert
Bruce, and others dispute the succession.

Ladislaus of Hungary assassinated; he is succeeded by Andrew III, called the Venetian, from the place of his birth.

1291. Edward I, of England, decides the disputed succession in Scotland; he claims and receives homage from the competitors as their suzerain.

In Switzerland the three Forest Cantons confederate, these being Uri,
Schwyz, and Unterwalden.

Siege and conquest of Acre from the Christians by Malek el-Ashref; end of the Christian realm of Jerusalem.

1292. Edward I awards the crown of Scotland to John Balliol, who does homage to him.

1294. Under Nicolo Spinola the Genoese capture a Venetian fleet and take Canea, in the isle of Candia.

1295. Philip the Fair of France, and John Balliol, King of Scotland, make war on England.

Pope Boniface VIII issues his bull (Clericus laicos) against the taxation of the property of the Church without the consent of the holy see. Philip the Fair of France refuses to comply with it.

1297. Great victory of the Scots, under William Wallace, at Stirling. See "EXPLOITS AND DEATH OF WILLIAM WALLACE," vi, 369.

Philip the Fair is excommunicated because his law against the export of coin stops the papal revenues derived from France.

Pope Boniface VIII prohibits the dissection of dead bodies for the study of anatomy at Bologna.

1298. Adolphus of Nassau defeated and slain by Rudolph's son, Albert, who is elected king by the German electors.

Wallace defeated at Falkirk by Edward I. See "EXPLOITS AND DEATH OF
WILLIAM WALLACE," vi, 369,

1299. Defeat of the Turks at Hems by the allied forces of the Templars and Mongols; recovery of Jerusalem for a short period.

1300. Institution of the jubilee by Pope Boniface VIII. See "FIRST GREAT JUBILEE OF THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH," vi, 378.

Guy, Count of Flanders, defeated and made prisoner by Philip's brother, Charles de Valois.

A charitable society at Antwerp is first given the name of Lollards, because they lulled the sick by singing to them.

FOOTNOTES:

5. See Philip of France Wins the French Domains of the English Kings, page 86.

28. A tax originally levied by Ethelred II to maintain forces against the Danes.

30. The King knew not how to behave to the murderers. To punish them for that which they had understood he wished them to do, appeared ungenerous; to spare them was to confirm the general suspicion that he had ordered the murder. He left them therefore to the judgment of the spiritual courts. In consequence they travelled to Rome, and were enjoined by Alexander to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, where some, if not all, of them died.

31. Guy—Guido of Lusignan—was King of Jerusalem, the kingdom founded by the crusaders in 1099. When Saladin took the city, in 1187, he imprisoned Guy.

34. According to R. Coggeshall, Philip virtually declared himself
still ignorant on the point six months later.

35. These were the alternative versions proposed by John's friends,
according to M. Paris.

36. Johannem Mollegladium. This nickname is no doubt a translation of one which must have been applied to John in French, though unluckily its vernacular form is lost. It has been suggested that "if the phrase had any English equivalent, it would probably be something embracing a more direct metaphor than 'Softsword'—something like 'Tinsword,' or, better still, if the thirteenth century knew of putty, 'John Puttysword.'"

37. In 1199, by acknowledging Arthur as their liege lord and Richard's lawful heir.

38. I.e., "May the band that binds the felts and spars of the yurt never decay"; in other words, may he ever be prosperous—a favorite Mongol wish.

40. The Petrion, which is repeatedly mentioned by contemporary writers, was a district built on the slope of a hill running parallel to the Golden Horn for about one-third of the length of the harbor walls eastward from Blachern. It had apparently been a neglected spot during the early centuries of the history of Constantinople, but had lately come to be the residence of numerous hermits, and the site of several monasteries and convents. A great part is now occupied by the Jewish colony of Galata.

44. The remarkable church of this monastery still exists as a mosque, and is known as Eski imaret Mahallasse. It still bears witness to its having been arranged for both monks and nuns. It is on the Fourth Hill, just above the Phanar.

46. It was the quarter about the gate in the harbor walls, now known as Zindan Capou, near the dried-fruit market.

48. The Great Church, dedicated to the "Divine Wisdom"; the Santa Sophia, built by Justinian.

49. This office still exists. The principal duty of the person who holds it is to recite the creed in great religious services when the patriarch officiates.

52. By a similar manoeuvre did the Spaniards rob King René two hundred years later of the city of Naples.

53. Peter's Patrimony was an administrative division of the Papal States, situated in Central Italy northwest of the Roman Campagna.—ED.

55. Matilda, Countess of Tuscany, also ruler of a large part of Northern Italy, died about 1115, bequeathing her possessions to the papacy, which she had supported in its struggle with the Empire. The execution of her will had been prevented by the Imperial power.

56. This seems a very strong proof that the house of commons was not then in being; otherwise the knights and burgesses from the several counties could have given in to the lords a list of grievances, without so unusual an election.

57. Novgorod was for centuries the chief commercial city of Russia. It was an independent republic, holding sway over extensive territories around the Baltic Sea.

58. Suzdal was at this time the principal state of Central Russia, with a capital of the same name.

60. Thus was gradually introduced what has since been considered the constitutional method of opposing the measures of the Crown, the refusal of the supplies for the current year. Henry's predecessors were too rich to depend on the aid of their vassals: to resist their will with any hope of success it was necessary to have recourse to the sword. But his poverty compelled him annually to solicit relief, and to purchase it by concessions to his parliament.

61. The Earl of Gloucester also massacred the Jews in Canterbury; and the Earl of Derby destroyed their houses at Worcester and compelled them to receive baptism. As a justification, it was pretended that they were attached to the King, had Greek fire in their possession, kept false keys to the gates, and had made subterraneous passages from their houses leading under the walls.

63. The military tenants were ordered under the penalty of felony to bring into the field not only the force specified by their tenures, but all the horsemen and infantry in their power: every township was compelled to send eight, six, or four footmen well armed with lances, bows and arrows, swords, crossbows, and hatchets, who should serve forty days at the expense of the township; and the cities and burghs received orders to furnish as many horsemen and footmen as the sheriff might appoint. No excuse was to be allowed on account of the shortness of the time, the approach of the harvest, or any other private inconvenience.

64. It is amusing to compare the opposite writers of this period. Wikes and the letter-writer in Westminster are royalists, and severely censure the ambition and treason of Leicester, but, in the estimation of the chroniclers of Dunstable and of Waverly, he lived a saint and died a martyr.

65. By these we are to understand Northern and Southern China, separated by the great Hoang-ho on the eastern, and by the southern limits of Shen-si on the western side.

66. This conduct toward the professors of the several systems of faith is perfectly consistent with the character of Kublai, in which policy was the leading feature. It was his object to keep in good humor all classes of his subjects, and especially those of the capital or about the court, by indulging them in the liberty of following unmolested their own religious tenets, and by flattering each with the idea of possessing his special protection. Many of the highest offices, both civil and military, were held by Mahometans.

67. Neither do those who profess the Mussulman faith regard Mahomet as a divinity, nor do the Jews so regard Moses; but it is not to be expected that a Tartar emperor should make very accurate theological distinctions.

68. This word, probably much corrupted by transcribers, must be intended for one of the numerous titles of Buddha.

69. The saggio of Venice being equal to the sixth part of an ounce,
these consequently weighed twenty ounces, and the others in
proportion up to fifty ounces.

70. In many parts of the East, the parasol or umbrella with a long
handle, borne by an attendant, is a mark of high distinction, and
even denotes sovereignty when of a particular color.

71. This is Polo's name for Kublai's capital—Khan-Balig ("the Khan's city")—the Chinese Peking, captured by the Mongols in 1215. In 1264 Kublai made it his chief residence, and in 1267 he built a new city—Marco Polo's Tai-du, more properly Ta-tu—a little to the northeast of the old one.

74. It is said that Edward promised the Welsh "a native prince; one who could not speak a word of English," and then presented to their astonished gaze the new-born infant.

75. A British diplomat who has been for many years director of the imperial maritime customs of China.

76. These names appear to be intended for Abaka-khan, a Mongol or Mogul, and Vang-san-chin, a Chinese. Many of the latter nations were employed by Kublai, both in civil and military capacities, and rendered him good service.

77. By the port of Zaitun is probably meant Amoy, and by Kinsai the port of Ningpo or of Chusan, which are at the entrance of the river which flows by Hang-chau, the Kinsai of Polo.

78. The idea of being rendered invulnerable by the use of amulets is common among the natives of the eastern islands.

79. If the original operations were directed, as might be presumed, against the ancient capital, we should infer that the city here spoken of was Ozaka, situated at the mouth of the river upon which, at some distance from the coast, Kioto stands, and which is known to have been formerly much frequented by Chinese shipping. But, according to P. Gaubil, the island was that of Firando, near the city of Nagasaki, not then a place of so much importance as it has since become.

80. There is here a manifest error in the date, which instead of 1264 should rather be 1284. In the early Venice epitome it is 1269, as well as in the early texts printed by the Paris Geographical Society; and in the Basel edition, 1289. Polo cannot be made accountable for these contradictions among his transcribers.

81. No clew presents itself by which to discover the island meant by the name of Zorza or—allowing for the Venetian pronunciation—Jorja. Some suppose it to be in one of the lakes of Tartary.

83. In his charter to the city, King Henry exempts his Jews, who were to remain the exclusive property of himself and his successors.

84. The remarkable letter of Robert Grostête, then Archdeacon of Leicester, afterward the famous Bishop of Lincoln, to the Countess on this subject, shows the feelings of the most enlightened churchman in those times toward the Jews. His mercy, if it was mercy, would spare their lives. "As murderers of the Lord, as still blaspheming Christ and mocking his Passion, they were to be in captivity to the princes of the earth. As they have the brand of Cain, and are condemned to wander over the face of the earth, so were they to have the privilege of Cain, that no one was to kill them. But those who favored or harbored them were to take care that they did not oppress Christian subjects by usury. It was for this reason that Simon de Montfort had expelled them from Leicester. Whoever protected them might share in the guilt of their usuries."

85. This act, translated from the Norman French, is remarkable in that the King admits that they (the Jews) are, and have been, very profitable to him and his ancestors.

86. The act for the expulsion of the Jews has not come down to us; we know not, therefore, the reasons alleged for the measure. Of the fact there can be no doubt (see Report on the Dignity of a Peer, p. 180), and there are many documents relating to the event, as writs to the authorities in Gloucester and York, to grant them safe-conduct to the ports where they were to embark.

87. "Great," writes the author of Anglia Judaica, "were the spoils they left behind them. Whole rolls, full of patents relating to their estates, are still remaining in the Tower, which, together with their rents in fee and their mortgages, all escheated to the King."

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