A Ai Oi o! u ^^sl 8 Gl( 8 g 1 6 1> 9 > 7 7 r-^ ■MM i' ')■ ,n c (V n HISTORICAL ESSAYS ^0?m. HISTORICAL ESSAYS BY THE LATE EDWARD /^EEEiMAN, M.A., Hon. D.C.L. & LL.D. REGIUS PROFESSOR OP MODERN HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD " Gallorum levitas Germanos justijieahit ; Italics gravitas Gallos confusa necahit ; Succumbet Gallus, aquil(S victricia regna Mundus adorabit, erit urbs vix prcBsule digna. % * Sf it^ if * * Papa cito moritur, Ccssar regnabit ubique. Sub quo tunc vana cessabit gloria cleri." Peter Langtoft, ii. 450 FIRST SERIES. -FIFTH EDITION LONDON MACMILLAX AND CO. AND NEW YORK 1896 [The Right of Translation and Beproduction is reserved'] First Edition, 1871 ; Second, 187a; Third, 1875 ; Fourth, 1886 ; Fifth. i8q6. OXKOKI) : HORACE HART PIMNIKK 10 rilU UNIVES.SITV CONTENTS. PACK The Mythical and Eomantic Elements in Eably English History [Fortnightly Review, May 1866) ... 1 The Continuity or English History' {Edinburgh Eevieiv, July i860) ........ 40 The Relations between the Crowns oi'' England and Scotland {Fortnightly Pceview, June 1867) . . . 53 Saint Thomas of Canterhukt and his Biographers {Xational Review, April i860) ..... 80 The Reign of Edward the Third {Fortnightly Review, :\Iay 1869) 116 The Holy Roman Empire {yorth British Review, jMarcb 1865) 128 The Franks and the Gauls {National Review, October i860) 164 The Early Sieges of Paris {British Quarterly Reviev.\ January 1871) . . . . . . . .212 Frederick the First, King of Italy {National Review, January 1861) ........ 257 The Emperor Frederick the Second {North British Review, December 1866) ....... 290 Charles the Bold {National Review, April 1864, and Fortnightly Revieiv, October 1868) . . . . 323 Presidential Government {National Revieiv, November 1864) 384 PREFACE TO THE FODETH EDITION, I FIND, a little to my surprise, that a fourth edition of this first series of essays is needed, while the second series still remains in the second edition and the third remains in the first. I should have thought that the last, containing writings at once more mature and on the whole on fresher subjects, would have been the favourite of the three. But I must take facts as I find them. In looking again through these papers, written mostly from twenty to thirty years back, and of which the last edition is dated eleven years back, what chiefly comes home to me is how things have changed since they were first written. I believe I may take for granted that both myself and my readers have advanced ; if I were to make fresh discourses on the same subject now, I might assume many things which I had then to insist on. We have now to deal with another map of Europe from that of i860 or even that of 1866. I had then to speak of wrongs which have since been redressed, while I was but little called on to speak of wrongs which have since come to the front. To me at least it seems that whatever value the essays have is chiefly as a record of progress. I have therefore, in revising writings which have already become somewhat antiquated, dealt with them as in some sort things of the past. I have corrected some things, but I have improved viii PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION. nothing. I have struck out or changed a few lines here and there, which I thought actually wrong or likely to mislead ; I have not struck out or changed anything merely because I could now put it better or because it referred to a state of things which has now passed away. On one point at least the essays have become historical. In 1 860 I had still to speak of the Austrian power as the enemy of Italy, the oppressor of Venetia. In 1871 I had been led into hopes which have certainly not been fulfilled, but the fulfilment of which was possible as late as 1875. I have left what I wrote at both times. But I may still be allowed to wonder why it is that a reference to the bondage of Milan and Venice stirred every heart in those days, while a reference to the bondage of Ragusa and the betrayal of Cattaro and Crivoscia stirs so few hearts now. On the subject of one piece, that on " Saint Thomas of Canterbury and his Biographers," I have had, since 1875, to wage another controversy on behalf of truth and historic justice. But I have let the old essay still stand just as it was first written. In the essay on Presidential Government there is comparatively little in the main subject which would call for any change now, though at every step there is much to remind one of the time which has passed, and of the change in the world during the last three-and-twenty years. Everything brings home to us that we live in a time of the world's history which yields to few in the number and importance of the events which have happened within the memory of men who are yet hardly old. If I had the same call to revise my third series of Essays, though it deals largely with later events, I should PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION. ix doubtless find that much has changed even since 1878. The intermediate volume stands on a different ground, except so far as even that might suggest new parallels in later times, which might throw light on the facts, though themselves unchangeable, which are dealt with in it. 16 St. Giles', Oxford, March IZrd, 1886. PEEFACE TO THE FIEST EDITION. The following essays have been chosen out of a much larger number which have appeared in various periodical works. The principle on which they were chosen was that of selecting papers which referred to comparatively modern times, or, at least, to the existing states and nations of Europe. It is by a sort of accident that a large number of the pieces chosen have thrown themselves into something like a continuous series bearing on the historical causes of the great events of the last and the present year. In revising the essays, I have commonly let passages referring to the state of European politics ten or fifteen years back stand as they were written at first, merely adding a note whenever a note seemed to be called for. I have done the same whenever change of circumstances or increase of knowledge on my own part has led me to change my views on any point. But whenever I could gain in accuracy of statement or in force or clearness of expression, I have freely changed, added to, or left out, what I wrote in the first instance. To many of the essays I have added a short notice of the circumstances under which they were written. I have to thank Messrs. Longman for allowing me to reprint the essay which stands second in the series, the only one among several contributions of mine to the PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. xi Edinburgh Review which seemed to come within the scope of the present volume, I have also to thank the pub- lishers and editors of the Fortnightly, British Quarterly, North British, and National Reviews for leave to reprint the articles which appeared in their pages. It is much to be regretted that two of the Reviews which I have just mentioned have now to be reckoned among things of the past. If the present venture should prove successful, I hope that it may be followed by a further selection from among my smaller writings, whether from among essays of the same class as those now reprinted, but bearing on earlier periods of history, or from among smaller pieces on various subjects not always strictly historical. SOMEKLEAZE, WeLLS, August 9th, 1871- HISTORICAL ESSAYS. THE MYTHICAL AND ROMANTIC ELEMENTS IN EARLY ENGLISH HISTORY. I DO not intend in the present Essay to enter into any- full examination of the nature of mythical narratives, or systematically to compare those which we meet with in early English history with those which we meet with in the early history of other nations. The origin of mythical narratives in general, and the relation of the myths of one nation to those of others, is an important and fascinating subject, and one which has lately been zealously taken up by a special school of inquirers. The doctrine of the compara- tive mythologists traces the myths of at least all Aryan nations to a certain common stock of sayings, expressive of the chief phaenomena of nature. These sayings, set forth in the simple poetical language of an early age, have gra- dually grown into narratives of the adventures of personal beings. Zeus, for instance, is the Sky, Apollo the Sun, and the legends of Zeus and Apollo resolve themselves into poetical descriptions of those processes of nature in which the sky and the sun are concerned. This view must not be confounded with that of an earlier school of mytholo- gists, who saw in the Grecian legends a system of physical truths set forth under the veil of allegory. The compara- tive school admits of nothing like conscious allegory. In the view of its followers the physical truth grows into the mythical story by a process perfectly gradual and uncon- scious. The doctrine is new and fascinating, and, as put 2 THE MYTHICAL AND ROMANTIC ELEMENTS [Essay forth by Professor Max Muller and by Mr. G. W. Cox, it is in the highest degree capable of poetical treatment. But I must confess that I can as yet accept it only in a modified form. I must make a distinction between legends of the Gods and legends of the Heroes — between myths which are qitasi-i\\.Qo\ogicQ\ and myths which are quasi-hi^ioYicdl. I can fully believe that Zeus is the Sky and that Demeter is the Earth, and that the legends of Zeus and Demeter arose from poetical statements of physical phsenomena re- lating to the sky and the earth. But I confess that I have some difficulty in accepting the doctrine that the mythical histories of Herakles, of Meleagros, of Paris, of Achilleus, and of Odysseus, are all of them mythical ways of describing the daily course of the sun. The idea is most ingenious, and the way in which it is carried out is, in many of its details, not only ingenious, but highly beautiful. But I confess that I am as yet only half a believer. Perhaps I am under the influence of a dread that, if Achilleus and Odysseus are ruled to be the sun, later heroes of mythology and romance, Arthur and Hengest and Cerdic and the Great Karl himself, may some day be found out to be the sun also. The fear is natural on the part of one who does not scruple to confess that he sees a certain historical element alike in Hellenic and in Teutonic legend. Yet I am told that the fear is an unreasonable one, inasmuch as the two views are really not inconsistent. I am given to understand that Achilleus may be the sun, and yet that I may see, if I please, in Achilleus' conquest of Lesbos a fragment, however exaggerated and distorted, of the real primitive tradition of the Hellenic conquest of the land which that conquest turned into Aiolis. Nay, I believe it is allowed that, if the Charlemagne of romance should also turn out to be the sun, the position of the his- torical Emperor Karl will be in no way damaged by the discovery. I mention all this only to show why I do not feel called on to enter into any scientific explanation of such mythical I.] IN EARLY ENGLISH HISTORY. 3 stories as I have here to deal with. I leave them to in- quirers of another class, and I shall be well pleased if I find that my line of inquiry, though wholly different, is held by them not to be necessarily inconsistent with their own. But when I say that I recognize a certain historical ele- ment in the myths, I wish especially to guard against a probable misconception. I have as little sympathy with the old pragmatizing or Euhemeristic school of mytholo- gical interpretation as the comparative mythologists have with the old physical school. The pragmatizers take a mythical story; they strip it by an arbitrary process of whatever seems impossible ; they explain or allegorize miraculous details; and, having thus obtained something which possibly may have happened, they give it out as something which actually did happen. This system has been thoroughly rooted up by Mr, Grote. It will never do to take the tale of Troy, to leave out all intervention of the Gods, and to give out the remnant as a piece of real Grecian history. It will never do, as Thucydides did, to piece out whatever seems unlikely by possible, but perfectly arbitrary, conjectures of our own. And yet I cannot but think that Mr. Grote goes too far in censuring all attempts to extract a certain amount of historical truth from the Trojan legend, or from any other legend. I will explain my notions on this head a little more fully. But to do so, I must first explain the nature of what I understand by romantic as distinguished from mijthkal narratives. I divide then the statements contained in our early EngKsh history, or in any other history which may be chosen for our illustrations, into four classes — historical, romantic, traditional, and mythical. Of these I look on the mythical statements as standing to the traditional in the same relation in which the romantic statements stand to the historical. I shall therefore first inquire into the relation of these last two classes to one another, and then, arguing from the known to the unknown, attempt to point out more briefly the light which these relations cast B 3 4 THE MYTHICAL AND ROMANTIC ELEMENTS [Essay on the obscurer relation between traditional and mythical statements. By historical statements I mean those which we accept as undoubtedly true, as resting on contemporary or other sufficient evidence : say, that Eadward the Elder died in the year 925, and that iEthelstan his son was chosen King in his stead. Or perhaps the words " undoubtedly true " may be too strong ; for we often meet with statements which we must set down as historical, which we nevertheless receive with a certain hesitation, as resting on a mere balance of evidence. Owing to the natural imperfection of all human testimony, owing to unavoidable errors, to men's different ways of looking at things, to the way in which statements are, sometimes wilfully, sometimes unconsciously, coloured by party spirit or other interested feelings — owing to all these causes, we often find contradictory statements of facts, between which we have to judge as we best can, but where there is nothing mythical or romantic about either version. Thus, in the whole career of Godwine and Harold, we have to pick our way between the opposite statements of friends and enemies. Both versions cannot be true ; but the version which we reject is not myth or romance, but mistake or calumny, as may happen. The true statement is historical — the false one we may call psevdo-Iiislorical ; it assumes the form of history, and it is put forth in the hope and belief that it will be accepted as true. Such misstatements are, in a later stage, often adorned with romantic details— such, for instance, as we shall presently find in the legend of the death of Godwine — • but in their original state they arc not romance, but history misconceived or misrepresented. By romanlic statements I understand stories about his- torical persons, which we set aside, sometimes as merely doubtful, sometimes as positively untrue, by other tests than those by which we distinguish historical from pseudo- historical statements. Around many famous men there gathers a mass of tales and anecdotes, the evidence for I.] IN EARLY ENGLISH HISTORY. 5 which is insufficient. Sometimes all that we can say is that the evidence is insufficient. The story may be neither im- probable in itself, nor inconsistent with the recorded actions and character of the person spoken of. Of this kind is a large proportion of the personal anecdotes handed down to us by Plutarch. They may have happened, but we cannot feel certain that they did happen. We know that anecdotes are often invented, and that they are often im- proved in the telling. We know that the fact of an anecdote being probable and characteristic is no proof of its historical truth. For clever anecdote-mongers always take care that their anecdotes shall be probable and charac- teristic. Many a living man has heard stories about him- self, some of which are pure invention, some of which contain a kernel of truth, but which in both cases illustrate, if only by caricature, some real feature in his character. Stories of this sort, where a distinct play of fancy is at work, set us down within the borders of the land of romance. In j)S€udo-h\^tor\c,&\ statements, the narrator is either himself deceived, or he intentionally seeks to deceive others ; in purely romantic statements deception hardly comes in either way. The teller and the heai'er have no set purpose to contradict historical truth ; they are simply careless about historical truth. They tell an attractive story, heedless whether it be true or false ; the tale may be coloured by the narrator's passions or opinions, but it is not a direct pleading on the side of those passions or opinions, as are the statements which I have caXle^ j^iseudo- historical. If the teller and the hearer have knowledge and tact enough, they will take care that the story, if not true, shall be at least characteristic. But in more careless hands no such propriety is aimed at. The tale may, in such a case, be utterly improbable from the beginning, or, though it may have been characteristic at starting, it may, in process of telling, get incrusted with circumstances which make it no longer even characteristic. Every detail is exaggerated, improved, or corrupted ; and circumstances 6 THE MYTHICAL AND ROMANTIC ELEMENTS [Essay are brought in from other stories about other people. In this last process we come across one of the most fertile sources of legendary matter. There is a class of stories which seem to be the common property of mankind, and which may be said to go about the world with blanks for the names, dates, and places, ready to be filled up as occasion may serve. We meet with abundance of these stories both in undoubted mythology and in what professes to be history. Stories, for instance, of women falsely accusing men who have refused their favours, stories of kings' daughters betraying their country for love of in- vaders who in the end punish their treachery, turn up, with little more than the change of name, in all times and in all places. Now stories of this sort we instinctively doubt, even in their earliest form, and in every later form we unhesitatingly reject them. It comes indeed within the compass of belief, and even of probability, that such a story may have happened once. In some cases indeed we may be sure that one form of the story is historical, the later repe- titions only being legendary ; nay, it is within the compass of physical possibility that such a story may have happened several times. It is even possible, especially when a story occurs both in legend and in history, that the later story may be a conscious repetition of the earlier. Alexander maj/, as Mr. Grote believes, have dragged Eatis at his chariot- wheels, in conscious imitation of the treatment of the body of Hektor by Achilleus. But the chances are always strongly against any tale of the kind. Knowing, as we do, the way in which stories grow and wander about, we need the strongest contemporary evidence to make us believe any of them. Take, for instance, one of the best known of the class. There is nothing actually impossible in the story of a father being set to shoot an apple off his son's head. We should have no difficulty in believing the fact on sufficient evidence. But when we see the story turning up in various forms in various places, when in some instances it is evidently a mere tale, when in I.] IN EARLY ENGLISH HISTORY. 7 no instance does it rest upon any convincing testimony, we set it down as simply one of the stories which make the round of the world. Another point must be mentioned, namely that, when we have two or more stories of this sort, there is no need to suppose that any one of them is borrowed from any other. So to argue is like deriving Greek from Sanscrit, or French from Italian. Those who told the story of Palnatoki could not have heard the story of William Tell, and it is not likely that those who told the story of William Tell had heard the story of Palnatoki. It is far more prob- able that both are portions of that general stock of romantic narrative which is the common property of mankind. By romantic narratives then I understand stories about historical persons, which are neither historical nor psendo- historical, neither real truth nor invention with a purpose, but mere plays of fancy, in which historical truth is simply disregarded. In most of them there is probably a kernel of truth ; in some of them we can see what the kernel of truth is ; but aU the colouring, all the circumstances, everything which gives life to the story, are, at the best, doubtful, and are in many cases clearly fictitious. The story, at its best, cannot be proved to be true, and in many cases it can be proved to be false. Such a story may be laudatory, or it may be calumnious. In such a case we may feel sure that, in its first form, it was put forth by the friends or by the enemies of the person spoken of ; but as the story grows, virtues are heightened, vices are blackened, new good actions and new crimes are attributed to the hero, by the mere process of mythopoeic growth, without any regard to truth, but without any intentional departure from it. Truth and falsehood, as I have before said, are matters foreign to the state of mind both of the teller and of his hearers. Of this state of mind Mr. Grote gives a lucid explanation in the chapter on mythical narratives to which I have already referred. Stories of this sort, as long as they are acknowledged to be mere stories, may often be told and heard with real pleasure. The evil begins when 8 THE MYTHICAL AND ROMANTIC ELEMENTS [Essay they are mistaken for history, as they constantly are, and that sometimes at a time surprisingly near to the period at which they are said to have happened. Our early English history, and all early history, is full of them. To show their true character is one of the highest duties of the historian ; but none of his duties runs more distinctly counter to popular prejudice^ there is none in the discharge of which the results of his labour are more distasteful to large classes of his readers. With most people our early history is a mere collection of legends. Alfred is simply the King who forgot to turn the cakes, or, in another form, the King who invented trial by jury. Eadgar is the King who imposed a tribute of wolves' heads upon the Welsh, or the King who slew ^thelwald and married his widow. Dunstan is the monk who took the devil by the nose, or possibly the Archbishop who caused .^Ifgifu to be put to a horrible death. In all these cases history is simply sacri- ficed to silly stories. The real actions of very remarkable men are utterly forgotten, because their names have got inseparably attached to legends which at best are doubtful, and which in most cases can be shown to be untrue. Yet many people cry out as if some wrong were done to them, as if the grounds of all human belief were shaken, when they are simply asked to accept history and to reject fable, to see which statements rest on evidence and which do not, and to believe or disbelieve according as such a test requires. People deliberately set themselves against the truth ; some- times because truth contradicts some prejudice, sometimes merely to escape the trouble of inquiry. But the case becomes worse when the prejudice to be fought against takes the form of some political or provincial point of honour. For instance, the character of the greatest of England's later Kings is blackened in popular estimation, because people will accept late legends and ballads rather than the undoubted history written down at the time. History sets before us William Wallace as quldam latro piihUms, the savage devastator of England ; it sets before us L] IN EARLY ENGLISH HISTORY. 9 Kobert Bruce as a traitor in turn to every cause, as a par- doned rebel, who at last took to patriotism as his only- chance to escape the punishment of a treacherous private murder. It sets before us the great Edward as simply asserting: the acknowledo-ed rig-hts of more than three hun- dred years — rights as fully acknowledged by his Scottish vassals as by his English subjects * It sets him before us as acting throughout with a justice and a disinterestedness to which his age, or any age, affords few parallels — as acting throughout in strict adherence to law and right, and, after repeated provocations, staining his conquest with the smallest amount of bloodshed on record. But it makes a prettier story to tell of the hairbreadth scapes of hunted patriots tnan to record the real actions of a wise and righteous King. The legend therefore turns out the his- tory. Scotch people make it a point of provincial honour to reject the truth, and English people — more unpardonably still — reject it simply because the legend is thought to be prettier. To crown the whole thing, novelists not only substitute the legend for the history, but alter the history itself to make the tale more convenient still. I believe there is a Scotch story-book which makes the great Edward, and not his wretched son, fight the losing fight of Bannockburn, and I dare say there are people, both Scotch and English, who believe that it really was so. This is the sort of difficulty against which simple historic truth has to struggle. In many cases it illustrates the pro- verb that there are none so deaf as those who will not hear. * Nothing could be more strictly just than Edward's whole dealing in the affair of the disputed fief. His singular disinterestedness stands out most clearly in the refusal of the proposal to divide the kingdom made by Hastings and the elder Bruce. Nothing could have been more tempting than such a proposal to a suzerain whose clear interest it was to have three weak vassals rather than one powerful one. But Edward, as ever, stuck to his motto — pactum servn ; he scorned all such considerations, and adjudged the whole fief to the lawful heir. If any one wishes to see the difference between an honest man and a rascal, let him compare the dealings of Edward with John of Balliol in the matter of Scotland, and the dealings of PhiUp of France with Edward iu the matter of Aquitaine. 10 THE MYTHICAL AND ROMANTIC ELEMENTS [Essay To those who are accustomed to look facts in the face, it is hard to understand the clinging to a story as a truth simply because the story is pretty. As an avowed fable, as a mere novel, it would bo just as pretty to hear. A romance without a shadow of truth may be exquisitely beautiful as a story, and the most severe historian has no wish to interfere with any one enjoying his favourite legend on those terms. All that he asks is that truth should never be tampered with, when truth, and not artistic beauty, is the question at issue. Belief is purely a matter of evidence, not a matter of taste or of preju- dice. But disbelief of a story as a matter of historic reality is consistent with the fullest appreciation of the artistic beauties of the tale which is pronounced to be histo- rically false. The historic mind is never offended by either myth or romance as such, but only when people obstinately cling to them to the rejection of historic truth. Thus the legends of iElfred are singularly beautiful ; the legends of Dunstan are disgustingly absurd. We can, as a matter of taste, enjoy the one and despise the other, while, as a matter of historic truth, we hold both to be equally worthless. The legend of William Tell throws a halo over the marketplace of Altdorf, and the legend of Achilleua throws a halo over the plains of Ilios, which can be as fully entered into by those who distinguish between history and legend, as by those who make their prejudices the measure of their belief. In fact, the lovers of legendary lore lose nothing by accepting the historic standard. A new source of enjoyment is opened to them, and the old one is not taken away. I will now take two well-known legends in early English history, and attempt to dissect them, and to trace their several elements to their respective sources. In both cases we shall find a certain kernel of truth round which a whole tissue of romance has been woven. In the year 933 the .ZEtheling Eadwine, son of King Eadward the ]. 14. 70 THE BELATIONS BETWEEN THE CROWNS [Essat certain what was before uncertain. Edward pnt forth his claim, a good and honest claim, urged in good faith. No doubt an equally honest answer might on some points have been made to the claim ; but no answer was made. After a little hesitation, all the competitors for the crown ad- mitted Edward's claims to the superiority in the fullest extent, and they gave him, as surely was reasonable, the temporary possession of the kingdom in dispute. And, if any man's conduct ever was marked by thorough justice and disinterestedness, that of King Edward was so marked throughout the whole business. Every claimant was fully and fairly heard ; judgement was given in favour of the claimant who clearly had the best right ; the new King was at once put into full possession of his kingdom and all its appurtenances. Most princes of that age, and of many other ages, would have devised some excuse for detaining the kingdom itself, or some castle in it, or some other material hold over it. That is to say, most princes would have acted in the matter of Scotland as Philip the Fair did act to Edward himself in the matter of Aquitaine. Edward's conduct was throughout honest and aboveboard. He required the acknowledgement of his claims ; he re- ceived it ; he then acted justly and honourably according to the theory of his own position which he had put forth, and which all the competitors had acknowledged. And, more than all, he rejected the tempting proposal of Hastings and Bruce to divide the kingdom. Had Edward wished to take any unfair advantage, here was his chance. Two of the competitors, when their claim to the whole kingdom was rejected, demanded a share, according to the English usage in the case of female fiefs. No proposal could have been more tempting, had Edward sought anything but what he honestly held to be his due. It was clearly his interest to liave three weak vassals rather than one power- ful one. But Edward, as he did throughout the case, calmly inquired into law and precedent, and ruled, in conformity with at least later law and precedent, that the Kingdom of in.] OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 71 Scotland could not be divided. Edward may have taken a wrong view of his own rights ; but of anything like un- fair or underhand dealing no man stands more thoroughly acquitted. The competitors then, the new King, the great men of the realm generally, accepted Edward's claims. But it may be, and it has been, doubted how far they really spoke the voice of the Scottish nation. We must never forget who these competitors and other great men really were. None of the competitors, and comparatively few of the great men of the realm, were genuine Scots in either the older or the later sense. Setting aside foreign princes like Eric of Norway and Florence of Holland, the competitors, Bruce, Balliol, Comyn, Hastings, and the rest, were neither Dah'iadic Scots, nor Welshmen of Strathclyde, nor Englishmen of Lothian. They were Norman nobles, holding lands both in England and in Scotland, who might throw in their lot with England or Scotland at pleasure, but who did much more commonly throw in their lot with England. Balliol and the elder Bruce were essentially Englishmen — Eng- lishmen, that is, in the sense in which any other English noble of Norman descent was an Englishman. John Comyn of Buchan was throughout a faithful adherent of Edward ; John Comyn of Badenoch and the younger Bruce identified themselves more freely with Scotland. But none of them were Scots in the ethnological sense ; none of them were Scots even in the sense of being natives and inhabitants of Scotland, with no interests beyond its borders. John Balliol had lands alike in Scotland, England, and France. After being a king in Scotland and a prisoner in England, he retired to live as a private French noble on his French property. Such men did not, and could not, really repre- sent the feelings of any part of the Scottish people. The event proved that in the heart of the nation there was a feehng against English dominion in any shape which the great nobles did not share. But the apparent consent was universal. Edward might boast, like his great namesake 72 THE RELATIONS BETWEEN THE CROWNS [Essay and ancestor, that the King of Scots, and all the people of Scots, chose him to father and to lord. And again we may ask, Who were the Scottish people 1 It is plain that the whole affair was one in which the original Scots took no share, or a share hostile to what is commonly looked on as the Scottish cause. The Scots who resisted Edward were the English of Lothian, The true Scots, out of hatred to the " Saxons" nearest to them, leagued with the "Saxons" further off. Candid Scottish writers allow that the true Scots of the Highlands were bitterly hostile to the younger Bruce, and strongly favourable to Edward. No doubt, had Edward kept possession, he would soon have become the object of their hostility. As it was, the true Scots were the faithful allies of Edward against the English of Lothian. We thus see Edward the acknowledged Lord Superior, and John of Balliol, undoubtedly the lawful heir, reigning as his vassal. Then comes the question of the appeals. It does not appear that any appeal had ever before been carried from the court of the King of Scots to the court of the King of England. We may be quite sure that no such subtleties were ever di-eamed of in the tenth century. But the idea of an appeal to the court of the overlord naturally grew out of the principles of the new feudal jurisprudence. Edward himself, as Duke of Aquitaine, was often summoned to the courts of the King of France, and he does not seem to have disputed the right of the King of France so to summon him. But we may be quite sure that Edward's predecessors in Aquitaine in the tenth century as little thought of paying any such sign of submission to then- lord at Laon or Paris as his predecessors in Wessex at the same time thought of requiring any such sign of submission from their vassal beyond the Forth. The whole notion of an elaborate system of courts, such as could allow of such appeals, is later than the earliest homage paid either foi" Aquitaine or for Scotland. It could not be part of the original bargain in either case, but in both cases the claim grow up with the gradual developement of feudal ideas. And, after all, it was the III.] OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 73 Scots themselves who, from the fact of Edward's superiority over the kingdom, drew the inference that they might appeal to his courts. Two Scottish subjects in very different positions, Roger Bartholomew, burgess of Berwick, and Macduff, a near kinsman of the Earl of Fife — surely a genuine Scot, if there ever was one — dissatisfied with the justice to be had in the courts of the King of Scots, appealed to the courts of his acknowledged feudal superior. The thing was a novelty; but it was an obvious conse- quence from a state of things which was now universally admitted, and it was not a novelty of Edward's devising. Ordinary human nature on Edward's part was not likely to refuse what would seem to be so fair and honourable a way of increasing his power. But ordinary human nature on the Scottish part could hardly fail to be offended with what would seem to be a further humiliation of Scotland. Next came the Scottish alliance with France, then at war with England, an alliance which gradually led to a series of mutual hostilities, which I need not recount at length, as they do not immediately bear on the relations between the two crowns. The important points are, that the first hostili- ties were the act of the Scots, and that the King of Scots, as soon as the war had actually begun, renounced his homage. The assertion of national independence might be just and expedient ; but the attempt to assert it by a process of feudal law was simply absurd. Then Edward, in i 296, conquered Scotland, and received the abdication of the King and the general submission of the country. The kingdom was his by conquest in a lawful war not of his seeking. I am not saying that the Scots might not be fully justified in revolting against him. All I say is that Edward was fully justified in occupying Scotland, and in putting down such revolts. With the conquest in 1296 the history of the old relations between the Crowns comes to an end. From 1296 to 1328 the question was, not whether Scotland should be held by its own King in feudal dependence on England, but whether Scotland should become, as Northumberland and Wales had 74 THE RELATIONS BETWEEN THE CROWNS [Essay in different ages become, an integral portion of the English kingdom. Meanwhile a new dynasty, that of Bruce, had arisen in Scotland. In 1328 the legitimacy of the new dynasty and the independence of the Scottish kingdom were fully acknowledged by England. From that day forth, wars between England and Scotland must be judged by the same principles as wars between any other two independent nations. The renunciation of 1328 wiped out the fii'st commendation of 924 ; it wiped out what we may call the second commendation of 1292; it wiped out the conquest of 1296. The attempts made by the English Kings to fall back on the earlier state of things, to claim again a homage which they had expressly surrendered, to set up pretenders ' against a dynasty whose rights they had expressly acknow- ledged, were all simply dishonest. The charges of craft, bad faith, and the like, which Scottish writers most un- justly bring against Edward the First, may all be brought with perfect justice against Edward the Third. The little space I have left I will give to point out one or two popular misconceptions. I fancy that people in general quite mistake the chronology of the case. They fancy that the whole of Edward's reign was taken up in an attempt to conquer Scotland. Instead of this, it was only the latter part of his reign which was occupied by Scottish matters at all. Edward began to reign in 1272. In the nineteenth year of his reign, 1291, the conference at Nor- ham began. In 1296 came the first hostilities and the first conquest. In 1297 came the revolt of William Wallace and his victory at Stirling. In 129H the battle of Falkirk crushed the revolt, but the war lingered till the surrender of Stirling in 1304. In that year Edward was again un- disputed lord of all Scotland. Scotland was annexed to England as an integral part of the kingdom, and was to be represented in the English Parliament. In 1306, the year before Edward's death, came the murder of Comyn, the revolt and coronation of the younger Bruce. At Edward's death, in 1307, the new King was again a fugitive. III.] OF EIs^GLAND AND SCOTLAND. 75 I speak of the wars of Wallace and Bruce as revolts. Their revolts may, like many other revolts, have been justifiable, but they were revolts. Neither of them, Bruce far less than Wallace, was resisting an invader. As for William Wallace, we need not look upon him either as the faultless hero which he appears in Scottish romance, nor yet as the vulgar rufiian which he appears in English history. His tenure of power in Scotland was very short, but for a man who started, as he did, from nothing, to rise, even for a moment, to the command of armies, and even to the government of the kingdom, shows that he must have possessed some very great qualities. That the great nobles mostly shrank from him, or supported him very faintly, is rather to his ci'edit ; it sets him forth more distinctly as a national champion. On the other hand, it is impossible to deny the fiendish brutalities practised by him in England, brutalities which fully explain the intense hatred with which every English writer speaks of him, and which were certainly not retaliation for any cruelties on the part of Edward. Candid Scottish writers allow that no useless slaughter or ravages can be laid to Edward's charge. In the whole course of his warfare he stands chargeable with nothing which even our age would call cruelty, unless it be in the storming of Berwick, where the personal insults of the besieged seem to have stirred him up to fury. At other times we find nothing of the kind, but we do find him checking and reproving the cruelties of others, including his own unworthy son. As for the execution of William Wallace, it should be remembered that his was the only Scottish blood shed by an English executioner before the murder of Comyn, and that he brought his fate upon himself. Every other man in Scotland had submitted. Wallace was invited to surrender to the King's mercy. That mercy had been extended to every man who had sought it, including many who had broken their oaths to Edward over and over again. Wallace refused, and refused with insult. He was seized by Sir John Menteith, 76 THE RELATIONS BETWEEN THE CROWNS [Essay Edward's commander at Dumbarton, an act of official duty which has been strangely turned into a betrayal.''^ He could now hardly look for the mercy which he had scorned. In the eyes of Edward and of every Englishman he was simply a traitor, robber, murderer, of the blackest dye. On such men the law took its course in 1305 just as it did in 1745. The revolt of Robert Bruce was, in every way, far less justifiable than that of William Wallace. Wallace was certainly a native Scotsman in the wider sense of the word. His name seems to imply that he was a Welsh- man of Strathclyde. By his own account he had never sworn fealty to Edward. The position of Eobert Bruce was very different. He has become so thoroughly mythical a being that it may be necessary to explain to many people who he was. One Scottish romance goes so far as to make him defeat Edward the First at Bannockburn ! Another, of older date, identifies him with his own grandfather, makes him the competitor for the crown, but makes him also proudly refuse to do homage for it. We have seen that Robert Bruce the grandfather was an Englishman, a faithful subject of Edward, eager to admit Edward's su- premacy, ready to have the kingdom divided. His son was an utterly obscure person, who plays no part in the politics of the time. His grandson, the future King, pos- sessor of great Scottish estates through his mother, seems always to have inclined to Scotland rather than to Eng- land. Still he was Edward's subject ; he had sworn to him and served under him over and over again. At last, when the country was at peace, when Edward's govern- ment was universally submitted to, Robert Bruce treacher- ously and sacrilegiously murdered John Comyn, the man, be it remembered, who, after the male line of Balliol, was midoubtodly the heir of the Scottish crown. After such * Wallace was "betrayeil," not hy Meiiteith, but to Menteith, by liis own servant Jack Short. From this the English chronicler Peter Langtoft drawd the moral that there ih no honour among thieves. III.] OF EXGLASD AND SCOTLAND. 77 a crime there could be no hope of pardon. Bruce then threw a desperate stake ; he assumed kingship ; while the great Edward lived he lived the life of an outlaw and a vagabond; over Edward's wretched son he won an easy triumph. Robert Bruce undoubtedly proved himself in the end a great captain and a great king ; but that fact should bhnd no one to the infamous beginning of his career. That all who were concerned in the murder of Comyn met with their merited punishment, who can wonder 1 Who can wonder that lesser degrees of punish- ment fell on the other ringleaders of the revolt ? The nature of punishments, the form of death, the degree of the severity of imprisonment, are questions between the habits of one age and those of another ; but it is quite certain that Edward punished no man or woman who would not be held liable to punishment at the present moment. Indeed, when we look at the atrocities which living Englishmen have committed and justified in India and in Jamaica, King Edward need not blush for the com- parison. The man who pardoned his enemies over and over again, who checked the cruelties of his own son, who, in the suppression of three rebellions, put no man to death who had not added murder to treason, who, save in one case of a stormed town, everywhere carried on war with unparalleled clemency, would hardly have worshipped at the shrine of a Hodson or joined in the festive reception of an Eyre. One word more. I do not regret that Scotland won her independence. I cannot regret the formation of a nation, a nation essentially of English blood and speech, a nation which soon developed many noble qualities, and showed itself fully worthy of the independence which it won. On the field of Bannockburn I can almost bring myself to sympathize with the great and wise King of Scots against the foolish and cowardly heir of the greatest of later Englishmen. But these things do not touch the character of the great Edward. The real honour of Scotland in no 78 THE RELATIONS BETWEEN THE CROWNS [Essay way requires the perversion of historical truth, or the depreciation of a King whose object was to unite our island as we see it united now. The vassalage of Scotland to England ought by this time to be looked on as calmly as the vassalage of Northumberland and Mercia to Wessex. An Englishman born north of the Tweed should deem himself as little bound to malign Edward as an English- man born north of the Thames deems himself bound to malign Ecgberht. Or, if a southern victim must be had, let Scottish indignation spend itself on brutal devastators of Scotland like Henry the Eighth and Protector Somerset, not on the noble prince of whom the contemporary^ poet so truly sang: — " Totus Christo traditiu- rex noster Eilwardus ; Velox est ad veniam, ad vindictam tardus." I have now merely sketched out my line of argument both as to the general constitutional question, and as to the personal character of the great Edward. I trust some day or other to work out the whole matter more fully, as fully as I have worked out the two or three points on which I have entered into direct controversy with Mr. Robertson. In the meanwhile, I would recommend to all who are interested in the matter a careful study of the original chronicles and documents, and a comparison of these with the later romances which have supplanted them. As a guide in such a task, I will not venture to recommend a book for which I must nevertheless confess a certain liking, the anonymous volume called " The Greatest of the Plantagenets." The book has much in it that is good and useful ; but it is too much of a mere panegyric ; the writer tliroughout holds, what I certainly do not hold, that the honour of Edward requires the sacrifice of every one who, either in England or Scotland, in any way withstood him. I will rather choose my expositor in the ranks of the enemy. I will send students of the original authorities to a really learned and candid Scottish historian as their III.] OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 79 harmonist. In Mr. Burton's lately published History of Scotland the matter is treated in a way which does honour to the writer. Mr. Burton has not wholly triumphed over national prejudices, though in many passages he does justice to Edward on particular points in a way in which I suspect that no Scottish writer has forestalled him. In many cases the inferences which I draw from the facts are very different from those which Mr. Burton draws. But his facts and my facts are the same throughout. Mr. Burton's learning hinders him from neglecting any fact ; his candour hinders him from concealing or misrepre- senting any fact. How far such a book may be accept- able to the less informed and more deeply prejudiced classes of Mr. Burton's own countrymen, I do not profess to know. I hail it as a great step towards the fair examina- tion of a great historical question, which should now be looked on purely as an historical question, not as involving the honour of either of two portions of one happily united realm. 80 SAINT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY [Essay IV. SAINT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY AND HIS BIOGRAPHERS.-^ Vita S. Thomce Cantnanensis Archiejnscopi et Marty ris. Ejri- sfolfB Sa7icti Thomce Cantuariensis et aliorum. GUtjerti Ejnscopi Lonchniensis Epistola. Herherti de Boseham Opera qufs extant omnia. Edidit J. A. Giles, LL.D. 8 volumes. Oxford, 1845. Joannis Sarishvriensis Opera omnia. Collegit J. A. Giles, J. CD. 5 volumes. Oxford, 1848. The History of Latin Christianity. By Henry Hart Milman, D.D. Vol. III. London, 1854. The Life and Martyrdom, of Saint Thomas Becket, ArMishop of Canterbury and Legate of the Holy See. By John Morris, Canon of Northampton. London, 1859. Becket, Archliishop of Canterbury. A Biography. By James Craigie Robertson, M.A., Canon of Canterbury. London, 1859. A FULL catalogue of the materials for the history of the wonderful man whose name heads this article, a complete list of all the books, old and new, of which he has been the subject, would take up a space rather suited for an article itself than for the mere heading of one. We have selected a few only of the most recent and important. We have original materials of every sort, — chronicles, biogra- phies, private letters, state-papers ; we have the panegyrics of friends, the invectives of enemies, the correspondence * [As this article gave rise to some controversy at the time, I reprint it exactly as it originally appeared.] [1872] IV.] AND HIS BIOGRAPHERS. 81 of the man himself. And as his own age was divided in its opinion of him, ours seems to be divided no less. He has still enemies who pursue him with the fierceness of a Gilbert Foliot, and idolaters who worship him with the devotion of a Herbert of Bosham. There is hardly any man of past times for estimating whose life and character we have such ample means. Every action of his own, every action of others with regard to him, has been chronicled and commented on by men who were both eyewitnesses and actors. And there are few men about the main features of whose history there is so little doubt. Here and there, among the multitude of witnesses, we find unimportant contradictions ; here and there we may have our doubts as to the accuracy of a date or the genuineness of a letter ; but the main events of his life, from his birth in London to his murder at Canterbury, are known to us as clearly and vividly as the transactions of our own time. Our materials are not confined either to the land of his birth or to the land of his exile. The vast Thomaic cor- respondence spreads over the whole Latin world. The terms of peace between a King of England and an Ai-ch- bishop of Canterbury fluctuated according to the triumphs and the failures of a German Emperor in Italy. Our materials, in short, are infinite ; indeed, until somebody shall kindly put them in order for us, they are over- whelming. We know, or by the help of a decent editor we might know, all about everybody and everything. As to mere matters of fact, the points of controversy, for so vast a field, are exceedingly few. The peculiarity of the history is, that, with the same facts before them, no two people seem to be content to draw the same inferences. The cause of all this diversity and controversy — a diver- sity and controversy most fatal to historic truth — is to be traced to the unhappy mistake of looking at the men of the twelfth century with the eyes of the nineteenth ; and still worse, of hoping to extract something from the events of the twelfth century to do service in the controversies of G 82 SATXT THOMAS OF CAXTEUnrRY [Essay the nineteenth. Thomas of Canterbury has become sur- rounded by a mist of theological and qua si -theological disputation ; it is impossible even to name him without raising a storm of controversy. For how is the man to be spoken of? " Thomas a Becket," on the one hand, and "Saint Thomas of Canterbury" both have their dangers, while ever}' intermediate form expresses some intermediate shade of estimation. " Becket " is perhaps neutral ; " Arch- bishop Becket " carries with it a degree of reverence for the oflice, if not for the man. And ajjain, it is doubtful whether his own ago even called him Thomas Becket, much less Thomas a Becket, or Becket alone.* King Henry the Eighth's proclamation has converted his his- torical title of '■ Saint Thomas of Canterbury " into a badge of party. Otherwise we might probably have called him Saint Thomas with no more offence than is incurred by speaking historically of Saint Dominic or Saint Dunstan. By way of being safe, we mean to call him, as his con- temporaries called him, Thomas, which we hope will not commit us to anything either way. Thomas of London, Thomas of Canterbury, Thomas the Archdeacon, the Chan- cellor, the Archbishop, and finally the Martyr, are the only descriptions by which he was commonly known in his own day. But when we have settled his name, we come to the more important question of his character. Was he a good or a bad man? Is he worthy of honour or of dishonour? * His father was undoubtedly called Gilbert Becket ; but in the twelfth century surnames were very fluctuating, and a son, especially if a churchman, did not at all iiec ssarily bear his fathei's n.inie. The most natural way of calling him would be Thonius of London, inntWke .Tohn of Oxford and Herbert of Eoshani, and we find him actually so called by Gervase (col. 1377). ^® iind the Archbishop himself only once called "'J'homas I'ecket," namely, by the knights at his death, according to Edward Grim (ap. Giles, i. 75), where it II ay be very likely an unusual expression of contempt. This remark, as far as we know, has been made by no English writer ; but we find from M. Buss's work (p. 150) that German industry has forestalled us: M. Buss has found one more instance of the use of the name " Becket," which (perhaps through Dr. Giles's fault) we cannot verify. IV.] AND HIS BIOGRAPHERS. 83 To two classes of inquirers no question can be more easy to settle. It is a very simple business to rule either that an archbishop must be right who opposes a king, or that a king must be right who opposes an archbishop. But at the tribunal of historical criticism no such sweeping general principles are admitted. Nor does it at all decide the question to say which side we should take if the same controversy were to arise now. What would be very unreasonable and inexpedient now may have been exactly the opposite seven hundred years back. If we Avish fairly to judge of the right and the wrong between Henry and Thomas, we must first of all shut our eyes to all modern controversies whatever. We must not carry into that region any modern theories about Church and State, about Catholicism and Protestantism. We must not think whether the events of those times can be made to help High Church, Low Church, or Broad Church. Even whether we are right or wrong in having no spiritual dealings with the Bishop of Rome, is a question which has just nothing to do with the matter. Yet it has been with at least a side-glance to questions of this sort that the history of Henry and Thomas has been for the most part recently written. If we want to read or write it as it should be read or written, we must forget everything of the kind. We have before us two of the foremost men of the twelfth century ; it is only by the customs, the principles, the light and knowledge, of the twelfth century that we can ever fairly judge them. Cautions of this kind are more necessary with regard to the dispute between Henry and Thomas than with regard to almost any other portion of history. With regard to many other controversies of past times, it is almost impossible to avoid looking at them with the eyes of our own day. In many cases, within proper limits, it is even right that we should do so. The controversies of remote ages and countries may be closely analogous to controversies of our own day. The controversies of G 2 84 SAINT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY [Essay our own country in past times may be but the beginning of controversies still going on among ourselves. In such cases the side taken in present politics will always decide the general estimate of past politics. We only ask for the men and measures of the past, what we should ask for the men and measures of the present, that opposition and criticism be fair and honest, that particular men and particular actions be not misrepresented, and that it be never forgotten that, both then and now, wise and good men may be found on both sides. But the twelfth century stands in a peculiar position. It was a highly important period, fruitful in great men and great events ; but its work was a silent one, and its controversies have, less than those of most ages either before or after, any direct bearing upon present affairs. The events of the age which came before, and those of the age which followed it, speak at once to our hearts. The spectacle of a nation, and that the English nation, overcome by foreign enemies, made bondmen and strangers in their own land, is one which re(}uires no explanation. The struggle of English- man and Norman is one which awakens sympathies com- mon to all time and places : (is olwvus apiaroi, dfivvtaOai -nepl Trdrprjs, is a sentiment which speaks equally to the heart, whether it bo put into the mouth of Hector, of Hereward, or of Garibaldi. The thirteenth century again has for every Englishman an interest of another kind. Wo have now entered on the England of our own time ; the great struggle has begun which still continues ; we have begun to walk among that goodly company of statesmen, heroes, and patriots which leads us from Langton and Grosseteste and Winchelsea, from Fitzwalter and De Montfort and Koger Bigod, on to the Peel, the Russell, and the Glad- stone of our own day. Compared with the eleventh century and with the thirteenth, the age of Henry and Thomas seems like something with which we have nothing IV.] AND HIS BIOGRAPHERS. 85 to do, and which we can hardly understand. The political position of England was like nothing before it or after it. In the eleventh century and in the thirteenth, there was an English king and an English people ; but in the twelfth such objects are hardly discernible. There is indeed a King of England, the mightiest and richest prince of Europe ; but he is a mere foreigner, a French- man living in France, devoting his energies to French objects, and holding England almost as a province of Anjou. And as with the position of the island, so with its internal controversies. We imagine that no Roman Catholic or High Churchman would claim for the clergy a freedom from secular jurisdiction in criminal cases, or would think the exclusive right of the Archbishop of Canterbury to crown the King of England a matter for which it was worth while to resist even unto death. In the twelfth century the case was much less clear. Thomas and Henry, in short, were two very remarkable men in a very remarkable age, who engaged in a controversy about which there could not be two opinions now, but about which opposite sides were then taken by the best and wisest men of the age. If a man will study the matejials before him fully and fairly, he will probably rise up with very considerable respect for both disputants on the whole, mingled with strong condemnation of par- ticular actions of both. Thomas often disgraced a sfood cause by violence and obstinacy ; Henry disgraced a cause equally good by mean cruelty and petty personal perse- cution, and sometimes, which Thomas never did. he allowed momentary passion to hurry him into practically giving up his cause altogether. On the modern writers on the subject we do not intend to enlarge at length. Though the history has been touched on incidentally by some very distinguished men, it has never been made the subject of any separate work of first- rate merit. We will therefore touch briefly on the most important modern writers on the subject, and then proceed 86 SAINT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY [Essay to give our own estimate of Thomas himself and his con- temporary biographers. Lord Lyttelton and Mr. Berington were probably the first, among the modern " amici " and " inimici Thomi^e," * who could give any reason for their friendship or enmity. Their histories of Henry the Second were both of them highly creditable to their authors at a time when his- torical learning was at its lowest ebb. In an age of second-hand knowledge they had really read the contem- porary writers. Each maintains his own position well, and each may be still turned to w^ith profit, even after the accumulation of so much recent literature on the subject. Mr. Berington, we may add, though an apologist of Thomas, is by no means a blind admirer ; he is not a Herbert of Bosham, but claims the higher character of a John of Salisbury. Among more general historians, in whose pages Thomas and Henry necessarily play a considerable part, Dr. Lin- gard at once occurs as a Roman Catholic writer of much the same school as Mr. Berington. Both of them have the wisdom to write, not as Roman Catholics, but as ordinary men ; they at all events affect impartiality, and of course are much more likely to influence Protestant judgements than if they checked them at the beginning by any ostentatious display of their peculiar dogmas. On the other hand, Southey's agreeable, but very superficial, Book of the Church contains one of the very best of what we may call the incidental biographies of Thomas. It is full, vivid, and sympathizing. It is clear that the heroic grandeur of the Catholic saint appealed irresistibly to the heart of the poet, even while invested Avith the character of a Protestant controversialist. Thoinas also figures very promincntlj'' in Thierry's well- known History of the Norman Con((uest, where he is pressed into the service of that writer's peculiar theories. * Aiiioiii,' tlie Letters is one (Giles, iv. 256) headed "ALiXfuidn) papm et Dimiiljiis curdiiialil us Inimici Thomce Cautuurieiibis arcliiepi.scopi. ' lY.] AND HIS BIOGRAPHERS. 87 He is made to figure as an English patriot contending against Norman oppressors. Of this utterly untenable notion, and of the small nucleus of truth around which M. Thierry has gathered a mass of very attractive romance, we shall have again to speak. The more recent literature on the subject begins with the Remains of the late Mr. R. H. Froude. Strangely enough, the first recent apologist of Saint Thomas of Canterbury was brother of the apologist of King Henry the Eighth. The elder Froude, one of the original leaders of the Oxford Tract movement, was a man of ability and independent thought, but, as one might expect, he ap- proached the subject from a wholly false point of view. His case was one of the most conspicuous of misconceiving history, in consequence of seeing it through an atmosphere of modern controversy. The .subject attracted him from some fancied analogies between the position of the Church in the twelfth century and the nineteenth. The career of Thomas occupies the whole of the third volume of Mr. Froude's Remains, but a large portion of the narrative part is from another hand, no less an one, we believe, than Dr. Newman's. Mr. Froude's own labours were chiefly given to translating and partially arranging the Epistles, a task before which any amount of energy might excusably have broken down. After Mr. Froude came Dr. Giles. We suppose we must allow the praises of zeal and research to a man who has edited, translated, and written more books than any other living English scholar. But really we can give him no other praise. The Epistles, as edited in his Sauclu-s Thomas Cantuarieiuns, are, as most later writers have complained, a heap of confusion, made far worse confounded by Dr. Giles himself. The principle of arrangement is an elabo- rate puzzle which renders it almost hopeless to find any particular letter ; the indexes are very meagre, and the mere editing is exceedingly bad.* * We thoroughly agree with Mi\ Robertsou's wish, that a really good editioQ 88 SAINT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY [Essay Dr. Giles has indeed also given us the Life and Letters in two volumes of English, in which there is an attempt to arrange some of the letters in the order of time. But scholars do not want a ti anslation — and a very bad trans- lation too — of some of the letters, but an intelligible edition of the original text of all. Dr. Giles's attempt at original biograph}' amounts to little more than a filling-up of inter- stices, and is moreover as poor and superficial as may be. Nearly everything that is good in it is copied from Mr. Froude. The life and death of Thomas have also been taken up by two writers of a widely different stamp from either Mr. Froude or Dr. Giles. Professor Stanley, in his His- torical Memorials of Canterbury, has given us a harmonized narrative of the martyrdom, written with such minuteness, life, and truth, that we deeply regret that it extends to the martyrdom alone, and does not take in the whole history. No less admirable is his treatment of what we may call the posthumous history of Thomas in the chapter on the Shrine of Becket. The Thomaic controversy again occupies a large portion of the third volume of Dean Milman"s Latin Christianity. With some drawbacks, this is the best English Life of Thomas we know, though the narrative perhaps suffers a little from over-compression ; and though we think that the Dean passes on the whole too harsh a judgement on Thomas, it is only fair to add that he sometimes bears rather hard upon Henry also. Still his narrative, allowing for some of those little slips in names and details into which it is strange to find so really learned a man as Dr. Milman so constantly falling, is the very best history of Thomas we know ; far better, considering its scale, than the more special ones which we have now to mention. The year 1H59 produced two rival biographies of our hero ; the works of the Roman Catholic Canon of North- of tlie whole literature on the suhject slioiikl f'urui part of the Series now publish- ing by authority of the Master of the Kolls. IV.] AND HIS BIOGRAPHERS. 89 hampton, and of the Protestant Canon of Canterbury. On these we might be tempted to dilate at some length, as the contrast between them is very curious and amusing. Each of the rival canons has read his books well and accurately ; each brings local inspiration to the task ; each does his best, such as it is, to be fair ; but each is disqualified by invincible prejudices, and the work of each alike labours under incurable objections in point of form. Canon Morris writes in a spirit of undiscriminating admiration ; Canon Robertson writes in a spirit of carping and fault-finding, with which we have still less sympathy. Canon Morris might have written a purely devotional life of Saint Thomas of Canterbury for members of his own communion, and no fair person would have objected ; or he might have written a historical life in the same spirit of prudence as Mr. Berington and Dr. Lingard ; but he has confounded the two ideas together, and has produced something far too historical for purely devotional use, while, as a history, it is sure to oflend every Protestant reader. Canon Robertson has worked up into a book two old articles from the defunct English Review, written, it would seem, against Mr. Froude and Dr. Giles. The book retains far too palpable traces of its origin in its somewhat poor and heavy attempts at wit, in its constant sarcasms on the writers reviewed, and its occasional allusions to things quite unintelligible to those who have not all the numbers of the English Review by heart. Nothing for instance can be truer, but nothing can be more out of place, than the elaborate criticism on Dr. Giles's editing which is thrust into the middle of the bio- graphy. For the matter of the book, it is what might be expected from a man who understands his subject without loving it, and whose chief object is to upset Mr. Froude. The narrative is accurate ; the references are highly valu- able. The author does his best to be fair, and rejects all the more vulgar calumnies against his victim ; — for, unlike most biographies, this of Mr. Robertson has no liero. But Mr. Robertson sees everything through the coloured glass 90 SAIXT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY [Essay of the English Review. He is utterly incapable of entering into the position of either a king or an archbishop of the twelfth century. Above all, Thomas of Canterbury, whether saint or not, was emphatically a hero, and a hero is just the sort of person whom Canon Robertson cannot possibly understand. Of the foreign writers on the subject, we must confess with shame that we know less than we ou^ht. Reuters History of Alexander the Third is frequently quoted by Deau jNIilman and Mr. Robertson ; and, as it seems to be highly favourable to that Pontiff, we suppose we ought in fairness to have mastered it, for certainly our own. study of the Thomaic correspondence does not lead us to a conclusion at all like what we take M. Renter's to be. M. Ozanam's De7ix Chancellery iV Avgleferre (Paris, 1H36), and M. Buss's I)er HeUige Thomas und se'm Kaiiipf fur die Freiheii der Kirche (Mainz, 1856), we only heard of through Mr. Robertson's references. M. Ozanam's book we have not seen ; M. Buss's has reached us since we began to write this article, and we have had time only to glance at it. It is easy to see that M. Buss is a strong Catholic and partisan of Thomas, but we do not see anything of the offensive ostentation of Catholicism of which we complain in Mr. Morris. His research and labour are unwearied, and, as far as we have seen, his work seems to be the best suited of all to serve as a guide to the original writers. But there are some tasks before which even German industry breaks down, or at least which it cannot go through without complaining. M. Buss complains, not indeed with the sarcastic rhetoric of Ml'. Robertson, but with a simple pathos which is quite as effective, of the superhuman difficulty of finding anything he wants in a book edited by Dr. Giles. We will now turn from modern writers on the subject to the original authorities for the Life of Thomas. These are of throe kinds, — the biographers, the contemporary chro- niclers, and the correspondence of Thomas, Gilbert, and the rest. All our authorities arc in Latin, except a single very IV.] AXD HIS BIOGRAPHERS. 91 important biography in French verse. English records we unluckily have none. The Saxon Chronicle breaks off at the accession of Henry the Second. What would one not have given to have seen this stin-ing period described, with the same life as the days of the Conqueror and of Stephen, by a real native Englishman, in the old Teutonic mother- tongue ? The French Life of Garnier of Pont Sainte-Maxence must be the earliest of all, as the author tells us it was written between 1172 and 11 74, being completed within four years after the martyrdom. The author had himself seen the saint in the flesh, but before he assumed his saintly character : "En Gascuingne fu-il lung tens ]jnr guerreier. As G;iscuns i kovint de lur chastens lesser. En Normendie r'out sun seinur grant mester, Ei jo Vvi sor Franceis plusur feiz ckevaucher."* He visited Canterbury, and also conversed with Thomas's sister, Mary, Abbess of Barking, so that he had good sources of knowledge ; and he tells us that, in the course of writing his book, he often altered what he had written, as he obtained better information. Besides direct narrative, the book contains many digressions or versified sermons ; he has also taken the trouble to translate several of the more important letters into his French verse, and a very odd effect they have in their new shape. This biography is very important from its early date, and to the philologer it is highly valuable as a specimen of the French language in the twelfth century. Of the Latin Lives the most important are those of Edward Grim, Roger of Pontigny, William Fitz-Stephen, Alan of Tewkesbury, and Herbert of Bosham, together with the short Life by John of Salisbury prefixed to that of Alan. All these writers were contemporary, and were intimate with the Archbishop at some portion or other of his career. Each therefore tells part at least of his story from his own * Garnier, p. 14, ed. Hippeau. 92 SAIXT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY [Essay personal knowledge. Each, to a great extent, fills up the deficiencies of the others. Thus Edward Grim only entered the service of Thomas a few days before his death ; his earlier narrative is therefore written from heai'say; but, in his new-born zeal for his master, he gives a full and vivid account of his martyrdom : of that martyrdom indeed he was more than a spectator; he was actually a fellow- sufferer, having his arm broken in a vain attempt to defend the Archbishop. Roger was the attendant of Thomas during his sojourn at Pontigny. We might have expected him to be very full on that part of his history; but, writing doubt- less mainly for the monks of Pontigny, he says that he will not enlarge upon what every one knows, and cuts that part very short. He therefore writes mainly from hearsay, but it is from the hearsay of Thomas himself ; so that we may look upon Roger's work as being more nearly an auto- biography than any of the others. William Fitz-Stephen seems to have been attached to Thomas earlier than any of the rest. He was his clerk when Chancellor, and conse- quently gives us many details of that time of his life which are not to be found elsewhere. He did not follow the Archbishop into exile, though he had one interview with him in the course of a journey through France ; but he was present at the martyrdom. Hence he can tell us little from his own knowledge of his master's doings in banishment, but he supplies many valuable particulars of what was going on in England meanwhile. Herbert of Bosbam, on the other hand, followed Thomas through his whole career both in England and France, but he was not present at the martyrdom, and he seems to have known very little of his early life. He is therefore the fullest of all in his biography of the Archbishop, but tells us very little of the Chancellor. Alan, and the fragmentary Life by William of Canterbury in Dr. Giles's second volume, also contain occasional particulars not to be found elsewhere. The comparison of these biographies with one another is IV.] AND HIS BIOGRAPHERS. 93 exceedingly cuiious and interesting. "We fully agree with Mr. Robertson that they need to be more closely analyzed and compared than they have ever yet been, " with a view of ascertaining their correspondences and divergences, and the sources from which each writer derived his materials." Mr. Robertson goes on to say, rather darkly, " Perhaps the result of such an inquiry might be found to throw some light on questions connected with a Hidoria QvadnpartUa far more important than that which is devoted to the Life of Thomas of Canterbury." This we take to be Canon Robertson^s roundabout way of describing the Four Gospels. The hint is an excellent one, especially as coming from so orthodox a source, though it is very likely that some inquirers might push it to results at which Mr. Robertson might be rather alarmed. The general character of the narratives is that of close agreement in the main story, combined with constant contradiction in minute particulars. This is just what might be expected from narratives written from memory some years after the event. Herbert, for instance, did not write till fourteen years after the martyr- dom. He speaks rather pathetically of himself as the last survivor of the whole band of faithful disciples.* On the other hand, there is not uncommonly a minute, sometimes even a verbal, agreement between two or more narrators, as if they had copied from one another, or from some common source. Take, for instance, one grand scene in Thomas's life, his "fighting with beasts" at Northampton. Two at least of our authorities, Herbert and William Fitz-Stephen, were there. Yet if a man were to try to force even their narratives into exact conformity, as commentators do with Mr. Robertson's other lUdoria Qtiadriparfifa, he would utterly break down in tlie attempt. Comparing all the narratives, there is a good deal of difference in the order of events, and even as to the mouth into which particular speeches are put. But in the whole history we only remember one contradiction of any real moment. William * Giles, vii. 335. 94 SATXT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY [Essay Fitz-Steplien saj'S that Thomas did affix his seal to the Constitutions of Clarendon, which is stated by no one else, and which the rest implicitly deny. Here we confess is a difficulty. William was something of a lawyer, and seems always careful about legal technicalities, so his testimony is especially valuable. But it has to be set against a consensus of the other writers and the general tenour of the story. Whether Thomas did or did not seal the Constitu- tions is of real importance to the history, and it is strange that any of his followers should be careless or misinformed about it ; but the slighter diversities which elsewhere lie thick upon the narrative are just what always happen to several unassisted human narrators telling the same story. No reader of the Life of Thomas is likely to be troubled at discrepancies of this sort ; but exactly similar ones in the other Hisforia Qiiadriparlila have given no small trouble to tender consciences. Each biographer of Thomas, like each of the Evangelists, has a character of his own. Edward Grim has the greatest tendency to the marvellous ; Eoger, as a Frenchman, is far more bitter against Henry than any of the rest, and he makes just those little mistakes about English matters which a Frenchman would make in any age. William Fitz-Stephen is lively and amusing ; Herbert is given to sermonizing and twaddling, and to putting long speeches, not only into his own mouth (which is his own affiiir), but into the mouths of Thomas and others, which we trust and believe are Master Herbert's own composition. But even this is no more than every historian gave himself the license of doing till very recent times. Herbert is moreover the Boanerges of our story. He seems to have been the double of Thomas in mind and body, and probably did Thomas very little good by his constant company. As if the Primate were not of himself daring and unyielding enough in all conscience, Herbert was always stii-ring him up to the strongest measures. Like Thomas, he did not fear the face of man, and spoke as boldly to King Henry on his throne as to his own master in his chamber. Like Thomas IV.] AXD HIS BIOGRAPHERS. 95 too he was tall of stature and goodly of countenance ; and like Thomas in his unregenerate state, he did not object to set off his bodily perfections to the best advantage."^ These two faithful followers appear in their several characters in that most striking scene at Northampton. f Thomas sits with his cross in his hand, defying the King of earth in the name of the King of Heaven. Herbert, the true Boanerges, would fain have him excommunicate every man present on the spot. William counsels meekness and patience. Forbidden to speak to his master, he points in silence to the figure of the crucified Saviour. Even the cold heart of Mr. Robertson forbears to sneer at this most touching incident. Besides these biographies by wmters whose names and actions we know, there is a very remarkable one printed in Dr. Gileses second volume, from an anonymous manu- script in the Library at Lambeth Palace. The author aifirms that he was present at the martyrdom ; still his contemporary character is doubted by some modern writers. If it were fully ascertained, the work would be most valuable ; for, though it does not contain many new facts, it is written in a tone of unusually independent criticism, and has fewer coincidences with other Lives than any one in the series. It states the case for Henry and against Thomas with great fulness and fairness, and enters into arguments at some length against those who denied the Archbishop's claims to the title of martyr. As for contemporary chroniclers, who wrote, not special Lives of Saint Thomas, but general annals of their own times, several of the best of the class have recorded the reign of Henry the Second. These of course are highly valuable, as giving us the view of affairs taken by those who were not Thomas's immediate followers, and also as helping us to the more exact chronology of the period. The biographers are commonly rather careless as to the order of time. Each, as we have seen, recorded what * William Fitz-Stephen, Giles, i. 265. t lb. i. 226. 96 SAIXT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY [Essay struck him most or what he best knew ; one set down one event and another another ; and none of them paid much regard to the order of details. The chroniclers step in to correct their errors and supply their deficiencies. Ealph de Diceto, Dean of Saint Paul's, a moderate partisan of the King's, supplies in his Tinaginen Hhioriarnm several important facts not in the biographies, together with the chronological arrangement of all. Gervase and Roger of Hoveden were also contemporaries : but they were younger men, who wrote after the biographers, whom they con- tinually copy. But it is always curious to see which Life they follow for any particular fact, and they also often add touches and details of their own. Gervase especially, as a Canterbury monk admitted by Thomas himself, had good means of information. William of Newbui-gh is chiefly remarkable for the manly and independent tone with which he treats the whole controversy, doing full justice to the originally honest motives of both the King and the Primate, but not scrupling to deal severe censure on particular actions of both. The Letters of course are invaluable ; at least they will be when any one shall be found to edit them decently. For the whole of Thomas's sojourn in France, they, much more than the biographers, are really the history. Many of the letters are strictly public documents, and many others, though private in form, were meant at least for the eyes of all the writer's own party. Mr. Robertson thinks the corre- spondence does not give a favourable idea of the time, and that it is on the whole discreditable to the mediaeval Church. That the letters are full of stronof lanijuaofe is no more than was to be expected ; but we do not know that Saint Thomas and his contemporaries use any stronger language than those worthies of the sixteenth century whom doubtless Mr. Robertson, as a sound Protestant, duly reverences. If Thomas is rather fond of calling Geoffrey Riddell Archi- (liaholvs instead of Arcfiidiaconvs, was it not the established joke of the Reformation to call a Bishop a BUesIieejp, and to IV.] AND HIS BIOGRAPHERS. 97 turn Cardinal Poole into Carnal Fooll In short, in ages when decorum was not very stringent, all men who have been in earnest, from the Prophets and Apostles down- wards, have used very strong language upon occasion. But Mr. Robertson's taste is so delicate that he is actually offended by Thomas's hearty, honest, and thoroughly English denunciations of the iniquities of the Roman Court. These we suspect, in anybody but Saint Thomas of Canterbury, he would have hailed as an instance of Protestantism before its time. But he has weightier accu- sations still against the unfortunate Letters. They are he thinks full of " cant," and of " stranQ^e tossino- to and fro of Scripture, perverted by allegory and misapplication."* In a certain sense this is true ; but talk of this sort always reminds us very strongly of the doctrine taught us by Mr. Grote, that all religions seem absurd to those who do not believe them. Most undoubtedly a calm and critical reader of those Hebrew and Greek writings which we call Scripture will find constant '• misapplications " and strange '• tossings to and fro " in the writings of Thomas, his friends, and his enemies. But he will find misapplications and tossings equally strange in any sermon, any religious tract, any religious biography, of our own times. In their belief, as in that of the Protestant enthusiasts of the seventeenth century, every word of the Old and New Testament was written for the direct example and instruction of every man of every age. Believing this, they did not shrink from carrying it out in detail. If God spake unto Moses, why should He not speak also to Anselm or Bernard ? If He bade Joshua lead His people against the Canaanite, did He not also bid Peter the Hermit to preach the crusade against the Saracen "? If the destroying angel smote the host of Sennacherib before Jerusalem, was the arm of the Lord to be shortened when the schismatic Frederick threw up his banks and shot his arrows against the tomb and temple of the Prince of the Apostles ? The faith of those * P. 173. H 98 SAIXT THOMAS OF CAXTERBURY [Essay times was at least a real, living, practical, faith ; professiDg to telieve certain books as their rule of faith and their personal guide of life, they did believe them as such. Consistently, at all events, they shrank from no " misappli- cation," no " strange tossing to and fro," of what they held to be real lively oracles, speaking direct comfort and counsel in every circumstance of the life of every man. We however fully agree with Mr. Robertson in placing the letters of John of Salisbury far higher than any others in the collection. John was a thoroughly good and pious man, and withal learned, thoughtful, moderate, and prudent. A firm friend and faithful follower of Thomas, he rebukes him, whenever he thinks him in the wrong, with apostolic boldness ; down to the very day of his death,* he with- stands him to the face as often as he is to be blamed. We have no hesitation in setting down John as a wiser and better man than Thomas himself But does not Mr. Robertson see that it speaks very much in Thomas's favour to have attracted and retained the devoted attachment of such a man ? A really candid writer would have pointed out that if John's bold and faithful rebukes tell greatly to his honour, they tell almost equally to the honour of Thomas, who invariably took them in good part. In a similar spirit elsewhere Mr. Robertson exhibits an amount of delight and triumph altogether childish, in pointing out the error of "certain writers" who had not put the events connected with the excommunication at Vezelay and the removal from Pontigny in their right order. The " certain writers " seem to be Dr. Lingard, and perhaps Dr. Giles and Mr. Froude. We are not greatly concerned for them ; but when Mr. Robertson ventures to say f that the original biographers " wished to falsify the history," that is quite another matter. The case is this. In 1 1 66 Thomas went from Pontigny to Vezelay, and there, in discharge of legatine powers with which he had been lately invested by the Pope, he excommunicated, * IJog. Pont., ap. Giles, i. 164 ; P.en. retr., ibid. ii. 62. f P. 193. IV.] AND HIS BIOGRAPHERS. 99 with especial solemnity, several of the King's friends, both clerical and lay, for various offences, and uttered a solemn warning against Henry himself. Him also he had intended to excommunicate, but forebore doing so on hearing that he was dangerously ill. On hearing of this proceeding, Henry, by violent threats against the whole Cistercian order, procured the removal of Thomas from the Cistercian abbey of Pontigny, where he had hitherto been sheltered. The comment of an impartial historian would be, that the Archbishop's conduct was violent and imprudent, the King's revenge mean and cowardly. Unfortunately it happens that not one of the biographers, except the anonymous Lambeth writer, describes this scene in all its fulness. The complete account of the matter has to be made out from the chroniclers and the Letters. That most of the biographers do not mention it is really not very wonderful. Edward Grim was not there, and his whole narrative of this part of Thomas's life is utterly meagre. Roger of Pontigny cuts his almost as short, because his brethren knew all about it. William Fitz-Stephen was not there; he tells us chiefly what happened in Henry's domi- nions. Herbert was there, and records the scene ; he does not indeed directly mention the excommunication ; but this is clearly because the warning against the King was the most striking point, that which he found most vividly impressed on his mind eighteen years after. For an Arch- bishop of Canterbury to suspend a disobedient bishop, and excommunicate a schismatic dean and a sacrilegious lay- man, was no very wonderful occurrence. The awful and unexpected part of the proceedings was, when Thomas arose, with a voice broken with tears,^ to warn the King of England that, if he did not repent, excommunication should fall upon him as well as upon inferior sinners. That * " Confestim, omnibus audientibus et stiipentibus, miro motu compunctus voce quidem flebili et intentissimo conipassionis afiectu in ipsuin Anglorum regem Henricum nominative coniminatorium emisit edictuni." Herb., ap. Giles, vii. 230. H 3 100 SAIXT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY [Essay Herbert had no intention of concealing the far less important fact of the excommunication and suspension appears from his speaking directly of them in the very- next page.* So equally does William Fitz-Stephen f though without strict regard to chronology, he being more intent on the reception of the excommunications in Eng- land than on their first denunciation in Burgundy. In short, if Mr. Robertson enjoys crowing over Dr. Liugard, we have not the least wish to interfere with his enjoyment; but he has not the slightest right to repeat the note of triumph over any one of Thomas's original biographers. We must now turn from the ancient and modern bio- graphers of Thomas to the estimate which we have our- selves foi'med of Thomas himself. If we can trust ourselves, that estimate is not swayed by party considerations of any kind. We do not feel ourselves bound to indiscriminate worship because of a papal canonization ; but we do not look on such papal canonization as at all taking away a claim to honour when honour is due. And be it remem- bered that it was not only the Eoman Chancery, but the spontaneous voice of the English nation which raised Thomas to the honours of saintship. Through his whole archiepiscopal career, alike in England and in Franco, Thomas was the darling of the people. One of his biographers is almost content to rest his claims to rever- ence on the adage, familiar then as now, that the voice of the people is the voice of God. J When he " fought with beasts " at Northampton, when his king accused him, when barons condemned him and bishops deserted him, an admiring multitude followed him in triumph from the castle-gate to his lodo;ini>:s at Saint Andrew's. W^hen he turned away from the conference at Montmirail, when every earthly power seemed to have forsaken him, every eye as he passed was fixed in admiration on the Primate who " would not deny the honour of God for the face of two kings." His return from banishment, his reception * Giles, vii. 231. f lb. i. 258. J Lamb., ap. Giles, ii. 136. IV.J AXD HIS BIOGRAPHERS. 101 at Sandwich, at Canterbury, and at London, was a nobler triumph than ever awaited returning conqueror. The bells, the organs, the processions of monks and clergy, might have expressed a mere constrained or official homage ; but there could have been nothing of such compulsion in the voice with which, in defiance of hostile nobles and officials, all Kent and all London poured forth to bless him who came back to them in the name of the Lord, the father of the orphans and the judge of the widows."^ Such popular reverence does not prove that the cause which he defended was one which the sober voice of history will permanently approve. It does not prove that his own character may not have been disfigured by many and grievous faults. But it is a homage which assuredly was never paid to a mere proud and ambitious hypocrite, or to the assertor of a cause which was at the time palpably that of unrighteousness or oppression. Nor must we suppose that the popularity of Thomas in his own day was at all the popularity of an assertor of the cause of the " Saxon " against the Norman, This is a mere dream, to which an unlucky currency has been given by the eloquent writing of Thierry. There is no trace in the history of the period of any such strongly marked antago- nism as Thierry supposes still to have existed ; still less is there any trace of Thomas of London being its impersona- tion, if it did exist. Thomas, in reality, was himself of Norman descent. His family was settled in London at the time of his birth ; but his father was originally from Rouen, while his mother seems actually to have been born at Caen.f It is evident however that at the time of his birth his family was thoroughly established in England, and that they had the feelings, not of strangers, but of Englishmen and Londoners. The truth is that there is not a word about " Saxons and Normans," or any controversies be- tween them, in any one contemporary biographer, chronicler, * " Pater orplianorum et judex viduarum." Herb., ap. Giles, vii. 315. t Lamb., ap. Giles, i'. 73. 102 SAIXT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY [Essay or letter-writer. The whole evidence seems to us to show that the wide distinction and hostility between the two races, supposed by Thierry and his school to have re- mained so late as the reign of Henry the Second, is a mere imagination. The probability is that, tliough the upper classes were mainly of Norman, the lower of Old-English descent, the distinction had then become one merely of class, and not of nation. In the middle class, Thomas's own class, the two races must have been much mixed up together. Indeed the Conquest itself must have had the highly beneficial effect of at once forming a middle class out of the higher ranks of the conquered people. The Norman gentleman, born in England, often of an English mother, w(arvulum optime fovit, atque adolescenti et sua repetenti patienter regna reludit, a quo parte regni redonatus quo advixit tempore hostibus terribilis eique semper exstitit fidelis." This account leaves out all mention of Charles the Fat, as is done also in the Historia Francorum Senonen«is (Pertz, ix. 365) : " Post hsec defunctus est Hludovicus rex Francorum, filius Karoli Calvi, relinquens filium suum parvulum, Karolum nomine, qui Simplex appellatur, cum regno in custodia Odonis principis. Eo tempore gens incredula Nor- mannorum per Gallias sese difFudit, csedibus, incendiis, atque omni crudelitatis gtnere debacchata. Deinde Franci, Buigundiones, et Aquitanenses proceres, congregati in unum, Odonem principem elegerunt sibi in regem." Alberic of Trois Fontaines, on the other hand, speaks of Charles the Simple as intrusted to the care of Odo by Charles the Fat. t Ann. Ved. 888. + Ibid.: " Odo rex Rends civitatem contra misses Arnulfi perrexit, qui ei coronam, ut ferunt, misit, quam in ecclesia Dei genitricis in natali sancti Briccii capiti impositam, ab omni populo rex adclamatur." Cf. Ann. Fuld, K 242 THE EARLY SIEGES OF PARTS. [Essay Still the Count had become a king ; the city which his stout heart and arm had so well defended had become a royal city. The rank indeed both of the city and its king was far from being firmly fixed. A hundred years of shiftings and changings of dynasties, of rivalry between Laon and Paris, between the Frank and the Frenchman, had still to follow. But the great step had been taken ; there was at last a King of the French reigning in Paris. The city which by its own great deeds had become the cradle of a nation, the centre of a kingdom, had now won its fitting place as their head. The longest and most unbroken of the royal dynasties of Europe had now begun to reisrn. And it had beffun to reio-n, because the first man of that house who wore a crown was called to that crown as the worthiest man in the realm over which he ruled. But we must go back to the enemy before Paris. By the treaty concluded with the Emperor, they were to raise the siege, but they were left at libert}^ to harry Burgundy and other lands. The citizens of Paris however steadfastly re- fused to allow them to pass up the Seine ; so the Northmen ventured on a feat which in that age was looked on as un- paralleled.* They saw, we are told, that the city could not be taken ; so they carried their ships for two miles by land, and set sail at a point on the river above the city.f While the Empire was falling in pieces, while new kingdoms were 888-895 ; Regino, 895. Aniulf was not crowned Emperor till 896. An amusing perversion of this confirmation by Arniilf will be found in Alberic des Trois Fontaines (8SS), who turns it into a confirniaiiou b}' Cliarles the Fat: " Normanni, fugati a civitate Parisian, Henonas venerunt, quorum timore Waltherus Senonensis archiepiscopu.s unxit Odonem in regem, ut exiret contra cos. Fuit enim i«te Odo frater ex niatre supra dicti Hiigonis abbatis, filii Karoli niagni ex regina ; unde aliqua erat ratio quod ei in tutela rcgni Kuccessit. Pdtuit igitur fieri, ut primo ungeretur ab archiepiscopo, postea confirmaretur, quod factum erat a memorato imperatoie Karolo." * Kegino, 888 : '' Nordmantii, qui Parisiorum urbem obsiilebant, miram et inauditam rem, non solum nostra, sed etiani superiore atate fccerunt." t Ibid. : " Qnum civitatem inexpugnabilem esse persensissent, omni virtute oumique ii'genio laborare copperunt, quatenus urbe post tergum relicta clas- sem cum omnibus copiis per Sequanam sursum possent evehere, et sic Hion- na.m fluvium ingredi(.nies, Burgundia; fines absque obstaculo penetrarent." VIII.] THE EARLY SIEGES OF PARIS. 213 arising and were being struggled for by rival kings, the Northmen were harrying at pleasure. Soissons was sacked ;* after a long and vain attack on the mighty walls of Sens, the enemy found it convenient to retire on a payment of money, f Meaux also, under the valiant Count Theodberht, stood a siege ; but, after the death of their defender, the citizens capitulated. The capitulation was broken by the Northmen ; the city was burned, and the inhabitants were massacred. % By this time Odo was King. Meanwhile the Northmen, after their retreat from Sens, had made another attempt on Paris, and had been again beaten off by the valiant citizens. § The King now came to what was now his royal city, and established a fortified camp in the neighbourhood to secure it from future attacks. || Yet, when the Northmen once more besieged Paris in the autumn of 889, even Odo himself had to stoop to the common means of deliverance. The new king, the first Parisian king, bought off the threatened attack by the payment of a Danegeld, and the pirates went away by land and sea to ravage the Constantine peninsula, the land which, a generation or two later, was to become the special land of the converted Northmen.^ Paris was at last secured against Scandinavian attack by * Ann. Ved. 886. + Ibid. J Ibid. § Kegino, 889 : " Nordmanni a Senonica urbe recedentes, denuo Parisius cum omnibus copiis devenerunt. Et quum illis descensus fluminis a civibus omnino inhiberetur, rursus castra ponunt, civitatem totis viribu.s oppugnant, sed, Deo opem ferente, nihil prEevalent." 11 Ann. Ved. 888 : " Circa autumni vero tempera Odo rex, adunato exercitu, Parisius venit ; ibique castra metatus est prope civitatem, ne iterum ipsa obsiiieretur." ^ Regino, 890: "Civibus qui continuis operiim ac vigiliarum laburibus indurueraut, et assiduis bellorum conflictibus exercitati erant, audaciter reluc- tantibus, Nordmanni, ilesperatis rebus, naves i)er terram cum magno sudore trahunt, et sic alveiim repetentes, Britanniae finibus classem trajiciuiit. Quod- dam castelluin in Constantiensi territorio, quod ad sanctum Loth dicebatur, obsident." The action of Odo comes from Ann. Ved. 889 : " Contra quos [Danos] Odo re.K venit ; et nuntiis intercurrentibus, munerati ab eo regressi a Parisius, relictaque Sequana, per mare navale iter atque per terram pcdestre tt equestre agentes in territorio Constantiae civitatis circa castrum sancti Laudi sedem sibi faciunt, ipsumque castrum oppugnare non cessant." R 2 244 THE EAliLY SIEGES OE PARIS. [Espay the establishment of the duchy of Normandy. By the Treaty of Clair-on-Epte in 913, Hrolf Ganger (changed in French and Latin mouths into Rou and Rollo) became the man of the King of Laon for lands which were taken away from the dominion of the Duke of Paris. Charles the Simple, the restored Karling, was now King ; Robert, the brother of Odo, was Duke of the French ; and there can be no doubt that the tottering monarchy of Laon gained much by the dismemberment of the Parisian duchy and by the establishment at the mouth of the Seine of a vassal bound by special ties to the King himself. The foundation of the Rouen duchy at once secured Paris against all assaults of mere heathen pirates. France had now a neighbour to the immediate north of her — a neighbour who shut her off from the sea and from the mouth of her own great river — a neighbour with whom she might have her wars as with other neio^hbours — but a neiafhbour who had embraced her creed, who was speedily adopting her language and manners, and who formed part of the same general political system as herself. The shifting relations between France and Normandy during the tenth and eleventh centuries form no part of our subject, but it will be well to bear in mind that Paris was at once sheltered and imprisoned through the Norman possession of the lower course of the Seine. It follows then that the next besiegers of Paris came from a different quarter ; and these next besiegers came from the quarter from which its last foreign besiegers have come. In the course of the tenth century, the century of so many shifting relations between Rouen, Laon, and Paris, while the rivalry between King and Duke sometimes broke forth and sometimes slumbered, Paris was twice attacked or threatened by German armies. Botli the first and the second Otto at least appeared in the near neighbourhood of the city. In 946, the first and greatest of the name, not yet Emperor in formal rank, but already exercising an Imperial pre-eminence over the kingdoms into which the Frankish Empire had split up, entered the French duchy VIII.] THE EARLY SIEGES OF PARIS. 245 with two royal allies or vassals in his train. One was the Burgundian King Conrad, lord of the realm between the Rhone and the Alps ; the other was the nominal King of Paris and its Duke, Lewis, alike the heir of all the Karlings and the descendant of our own Alfred, whose nominal reign over the Western kingdom was in truth well nigh confided to the single fortress of Compiegne. Among the shifting relations of the princes of the Western kingdom, Hugh Duke of the French and Richard Duke of the Normans were now allied asrainst their Carolinofian over- lord. He had lately been their prisoner, and he had been restored to freedom and kingship only by the surrender of the cherished possession of his race, the hill and tower of Laon. Otto, the mighty lord of the Eastern realm, felt himself called on to step in when Teutonic interests in the Western lands seemed to be at their last gasp. The three kings united their forces against the two dukes, and marched against the capitals both of France and Nor- mandy. But never were the details of a campaign told in a more contradictory way. There can be little doubt that Rouen was besieged, and besieged unsuccessfully. Thus much at least the German historian allows ; * in Norman hands the tale swells into a magnificent legend.f What happened at Paris is still less clear. Laon, for the moment a French possession, was besieged unsuccessfully, and Rheims successfully.^ Then, after a vain attempt on * Widukind, iii. 4: " Exinde, collecta ex onini exercitu electorum militum manu, Rothun Danorum urbem adiit, bed difficultate locorum, asperioriqiie hieme ingruente, plaga eos quidem magna percussit ; incolumi exercitu, in- fecto negotio, post tres menses Saxoiiiam regressus est." t See Dudo's account in Duchesne, Rer. Norm. Sciiptt., 130-134; or Palgrave, ii. 562-578. X Richer, ii. 54 : " Tres itaque reges, in unum collecti, primi certaminis laborem Lauduno inferendum decernunt. Et sine mora, illo exercituin ducunt. Quum ergo ex adverse moiitis eininentiam viderent, et oiiini parte urbis situm explorarent, cognito incassum sese ibi certaturos, ab ea urbe dis- cedunt et Romos adoriuntur." He then goes on to describe the taking of Rheims. This is confirmed by Widukind, iii. 3: "Rex cum exercitu Lug- dunum adiit, eamque armis tentavit." He places the taking of Rheims after 246 THE EARLY SIEGES OF PARIS. [Essay Senlis, the combined armies of the kings of Aachen, Aries, and Compiegne drew near to the banks of the Seine. Flodoard, the canon of Rheims, the discreetest writer of his age, leaves out all mention of Paris and its duke ; he tells us only that the kings crossed the river and harried the whole land except the cities.* The Saxon Widukind tells us how his king, at the head of thirty- two legions, every man of whom wore a straw hat,f besieged Duke Hugh in Paris, and duly performed his devotions at the shrine of Saint Denis. J From these two entries we are safe in inferring that, if Paris was now in any strict sense besieged, it was at least not besieged successfully. But Richer, the monk of Saint Remigius, one of the liveliest tale-tellers of any age, is ready with one of those minute stories which, far more than the entries of more solemn annahsts, help to bring us face to face with the men of distant times. The kings were drawing near to the Seine. In order that the enemy might be cut off from all means of crossing, the Duke of the French, Hugh the Great, had bidden all vessels, great and small, to be taken away from the right bank of the river for the space of twenty miles. But his design was hindered by a cunning stratagem of the invaders. Ten young men, who had made up their mind to brave every risk,§ went in advance the attack on Paiis, and afterwards, perhaps inadvertently, speaks of Laon as if it had been taken. LiujiJumwi is of course a mistake for Laadiumm. * Flodoard, 946 (Pertz, iii. 393) : " Sicque trans Sequanam contendentes, loca quisque prseter civitates gravibus atterunt deprredatioiiibus." + Widukind (iii. 2) records Otto's an-*wer to a boastful message of Hugh : " Ad quod rex famosuin satis reddit respoiisum ; sibi vero fore tantam multitudinem pileorum ex culmis contextorum, quos ei praesentari oporteret, qnantam nee ipse nee pater suua umquam videret. Et revera, qmini esset niagnus valde exercitus, triginta sc'licet duarum legionuni, non est inventus qui hujusmodi non uteretur tegumento, nisi raiissimus quisque." On these straw hats see Pertz's note. * Widukind (iii. 3), innnediatcly after the attempt on Koueu, adds : " Inde J'arisius perrexit, Hugonenique ibi obsedit, nieinoriaui (juoque Dionysii niar- tyris digne honorans veneratus est." § Richer, ii. 57 : " Decern numero jUvenes quibus consianti mente fixum erat omne periculuin subire." He then describes their pilgrim's garb. VIII.] THE EARLY SIEGES OF PARTS. 247 of the army of the kings, having laid aside their warhke garb and provided themselves with the staves and wallets of pilgrims. Protected by this spii-itual armour, they passed unhurt and unchallenged through the whole city of Paris, and crossed over both bridges to the left bank of the river. There, not far from the suburb of Saint German, dwelled a miller, who kept the mills which were turned by the waters of the Seine.* He willingly received the comely youths who professed to have crossed from the other side of the river to visit the holy places. They repaid his hospitality with money, and moreover laid in a stock of wine, over which they spent a jovial day. The genial drink opened the heart and the lips of the host, and he free'y answered the various questions of his guests. He was not only a miller ; he was also the Duke's head fisherman, and he moreover turned an occasional penny by letting out vessels for hire. The Germans praised the kindness which he had already shown them, which made them go on to ask for further favours. They had still other holy places to pray at, but they were wearied with their journey. They promised him a reward of ten shillings — no small sum in the tenth century — if he would carry them across to the other side. He answered that, by the Duke's orders, all vessels were kept on the left bank to cut off the means of crossing from the Germans. They told hira that it might be done in the night without discovery. Eager for his reward, he agreed. He received the money, and, accompanied by a boy, his stepson, he guided them to the spot where seventy-two ships lay moored to the river-side. The boy was presently thrown into the river ; the miller was seized * Richer, ii. 57 : " Ille furlnariuin sese memorat, at illi prosecuti, siquid nmplius pussit inteiToi;ant. Ille etiani piscatorum ducis magistrum se asserit, et ex navium accouimodatione questum aliquem .sibi adesse." This miller of the Seine appears also in a story of Geoffrey Grisegonelle in the Gesta Con- suliim Andegavensium (D'Achei-y, Spicilegium, iii. 247) : "In crastino consul furtivus viator, egreditur, non longe a Parisiaca urbe burgum sancti German! devitans, a molendinario qui molendinos Secanae custodiebat, date ei suo habitu, uavigium sibi parari impetravit." 248 rilE EARLY SIEGES OF PARIS. [Essay \>y the throat, aud compelled by threats of instant death to loose the ships. He obeyed, and was presently bound and put on board one of the vessels. Each of the Germans now entered a ship and steered it to the right bank. The whole body then returned in one of the vessels, and each again brought across another. By going through this process eight times, the whole seventy-two ships were brought safely to the right bank. By daybreak the army of the kings had reached the river. They crossed in safety, for all the men of the country had fled, and the Duke himself had sought shelter at Orleans. The land was harried as far as the Loire, but of the details of the siege of Rouen and of the siege of Paris, if any siege there was, we hear not a word.* The military results of the first German invasion of France and Normandy were certainly not specially glorious. Laon, Senlis, Paris, and Rouen were, to say the least, not taken. All that was done was to take Rheims and to ravage a large extent of open country. But in a political point of view the expedition was neither unsuccessful nor unim- portant. From that time the influence of the Eastern king in the aflairs of the Western kinofdom becomes of paramount weight, and under his protection, the King of the West-Franks, king of Compiegne and soon again to be king of Laon, holds a far higher place than before in the face of his mighty vassals at Paris and Rouen. The next German invasion, forty years later, found quite another state of thinj^s in the Western kingdom. The relations between King Lothar and Duke Hugh Capet were wholly diflferent from the relations which had existed between their fathers. King Lewis and Duke Hugh the Great. No less different were the relations between Lothar * All tliat Richer (ii. 58) tells us is that Otto's troops, after crossing the river, " terra recepti incendiis pra^disque vehementibus totain regioiiem usque Ligerim deiiopulati sunt. Post hsec feruntur in terrain piratarum ac solo tenus devastant. Sic(iue regis injuriam atrociter ulti, iter ad sua retorquent." The " terra piratarum " is of course Normandy. TUT.] THE EARLY SIEGES OF PARIS. 249 and Otto the Second from those which had existed between their fathers Lewis and Otto the Great. The elder Otto had been a protector, first to his brother-in-law and then to his nephew ; the younger Otto was only a rival in the eyes of his cousin.* On the other hand, it was the policy of Hugh Capet to keep up the dignity of the crown which he meant one day to wear, and not to appear as an open enemy of the dynasty which he trusted quietly to sup- plant. For a while then the rivalry between Laon and Paris was hushed, and the friendship of Paris carried with it the friendship of Eouen and Angers. Thus, while Lewis, a prince than whom none ever showed a loftier or more gallant spirit, was hunted from one fortress or one prison to another, his son, a man in every way his inferior, was really able to command the forces of the whole land north of the Loire. Again the king of Gaul looked Rhine- wards ; the border land of Lotharingia kindled the am- bition of a prince who might deem himself king both of Laon and Paris. That border land, after many changes to and fro, had now become an acknowledged portion of the Eastern kingdom. But a sudden raid might win it for the king of the West, and the Duke of Paris would be nothing loth to help to make so great an addition to the kingdom which he meant one day to make his own. The raid was made ; the hosts of the King and the Duke crossed the frontier, and burst suddenly on the Imperial dwelling-place of Aachen. The Emperor, with his pregnant wife, the Greek princess Theophano, had to flee before the approach of his cousin, and Lothar had the glory of turning the brazen eagle which his great forefather had placed on the roof of his palace in such a direction as no longer to be a standing menace to the Western realm. f As in a more * Lothar was the son of Lewis and of Gerberga the sister of Otto the Gieat ; Lothar and the younger Otto were therefore cousins. f Richer, iii. 71 : " ^ream aquilam quae in vertice palatii a Karolo Magno ac si volans fixa erat, in Vulturnum converterunt. Nam Germani earn in Favonium converterant, subtiliter significantes GaHos suo equitatu quandoque posse devinci." h"0 Thietmar of Merseburg, iii. 6 (Pertz, iii. 761), records the 250 THE EARLY SIEGES OE PARIS. [Essay recent warfare, the Gaul began with child's play, and the German made answer in terrible earnest. The dishonour done to their prince and his realm stirred the heart of all Germany, and thirty thousand horsemen — implying no doubt a far larger number of warriors of lower degree — gathered round their Emperor to defend and avenge the violated Teutonic soil. Lothar made no attempt to defend his immediate dominions ; he fled to crave the help of his mighty vassal at Paris.* The German hosts marched, seemingly without meeting any resistance, from their own frontier to the banks of the Seine. Everywhere the land was harried ; cities were taken or surrendered ; but the pious Emperor, the Advocate of the Universal Church, ever}'- where showed all due honour to the saints an'ain for going, excommunicated again for coming back, threatened on every side, he still went, and he succeeded. What others had failed to win by arms, he contrived to win by address, and all that came of his success was that it was made the ground of fresh accusations against him. For years the cry for the recovery of Jerusalem had been sound- ino" through Christendom ; at last Jerusalem was recovered, and its recoverer was at once cursed for accomplishing the most fervent wishes of so many thousands of the faithful. The excommunicated king, whom no churchman would crown, whose name was hardly allowed to be uttered in his own army, kept his dominions in spite of all oj)position. He was hindered from the further consolidation and exten- sion of his Eastern kingdom only by a storm stirred up in his hereditary states by those who were most bound to show towards him something more than common inter- national honesty. Whatever were the feelings and circum- stances under which he had acted, Frederick was in fact the triumphant champion of Christendom, and his reward was fresh denunciations on the part of the spiritual chief of Christendom. The elder Frederick, Philip of France, Richard of England, Saint Lewis, Edward the First, were crusaders from piety, from policy, or from fashion ; Frederick the Second was a crusader simply because he could not help being one, and yet he did what they all failed to do. So again in his dealinefs with both the German and the Italian states, it is impossible to set him down either as a consistent friend or a consistent enemy of the great political movements of the age. He issues charters of privileges to this or that commonwealth, he issues charters restraining the freedom of commonwealths in general, simply as suits X.] THE EAIPEEOR FREDERICK THE SECOND. 297 the policy of the time. In his dealings with the Popes, perhaps in his dealings with the cities also, Frederick was certainly more sinned against than sinning. But a man whose genius and brilliancy and vigour shine out in every single action of his life, but in the general course of his actions no one ruling principle can be discerned, who is as it were tossed to and fro by circumstances and by the actions of others, is either very unfortunate in the position in which he finds himself, or else, with all his genius, he must lack some of the qualities without which genius is comparatively useless. In the case of Frederick probably both causes were true. For a man to influence his age, he must in some sort belong to his age. He should be above it, before it, but he should not be foreign to it. He may condemn, he may try to change, the opinions and feelings of the men around him ; but he must at least understand and enter into those opinions and feehngs. But Frederick belongs to no age ; intellectually he is above his own age, above every age ; morally it can hardly be denied that he was below his age ; but in nothing was he of his age. In many incidental details his career is a repetition of that of his grandfather. Like him he struggles against Popes, he struggles against a league of cities, he wears the Cross in warfare against the Infidel. But in character, in aim, in object, grandfather and grandson are the exact opposite to each other. Frederick Barbarossa was simply the model of the man, the German, the Emperor, of the twelfth century. All the faults and all the virtues of his age, his country, and his position received in him their fullest developement. He was the ordinary man of his time, following the objects which an ordinary man of his time and in his position could not fail to follow. He exhibited the ordinary character of his time in its very noblest shape ; but it was still only the ordinary character of his time. His whole career was simj)ly typical of his age, and in no way personal to himself; every action and every event of his 298 THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. [Essay life could be understood by every contemporary human being, friend or enemy. But his grandson, emphatically stiqwi- vijoidi, commanded the wonder, perhaps the admira- tion, of an age which could not understand him. He gathered indeed around him a small band of devoted adherents ; but to the mass of his contemporaries he seemed like a being of another nature. He shared none of the feelings or prejudices of the time ; alike in his intellectual greatness and in his moral abasement he had nothing in common with the ordinary man of the thir- teenth century. The world probably contained no man, unless it were some solitary thinker here and there, whose mind was so completely set free, alike for good and for evil, from the ordinary trammels of the time. He appeared in the eyes of his own age as the enemy of all that it was taught to hold sacred, the friend of all that it was taught to shrink from and wage war against. What Frederick's religious views really were is a problem hard indeed to solve ; but to his own time he appeared as something far more than a merely political, or even than a doctrinal, opponent of the Papacy. Men were taught to believe that he was the enemy of the head of Christendom simply because he was the enemy of Christianity altogether. Again, the crimes and vices of Frederick were no greater than those of countless other princes ; but there was no prince who trampled in the like sort upon all the moral notions of his own time. He contrived, by the circum- stances of his vices, to outrage contemporary sentiment in a way in which his vices alone would not have outraged it. A man who thus showed no condescension to the feelings of his age, whether good or evil, could not directly influence that age. Some of his ideas and schemes may have been silently passed on to men of later times, in whose hands they were better able to bear fruit. He may have shaken old prejudices and old beliefs in a few minds of his own age ; he may even have been the fountain of a tradition which was powerfully to affect distant ages. In X.] THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. 299 many things his ideas, his actions, forestalled events which were yet far remote. The events which he forestalled he may in this indirect and silent way have influenced. But direct influence on the world of his own age he had none. He may have undermined a stately edifice which was still to survive for ages ; but he simply undermined. He left no traces of himself in the character of a founder ; he left as few in the character of an open and avowed destroyer. There was also another cause which, besides Frederick's personal character, may have tended to isolate him from his age and to hindei- him from having that influence over it which we may say that his genius ought to have had. This was his utter want of nationality. The conscious idea of nationality had not indeed the same effect upon men's minds which it has in our own times. The political ideas and systems of the age ran counter to the principle of nationality in two ways. Nothing could be more opposed to any doctrine of nationality than those ideas which were the essence of the whole political creed of the time, the ideas of the Universal Empire and the Universal Church. On the other hand, the conception of the joint lordship of the world, vested in the successor of Peter and the successor of Augustus, was hardly more opposed to the doctrine of nationality than was the form which was almost every- where taken by the rising spirit of freedom. A movement towards national freedom was something exceptional ; in most places it was the independence of a district, of a city, at most of a small union of districts or cities, for which men strove. A German or Italian commonwealth strusfgled for its own local independence ; so far as was consistent with the practical enjoyment of that independence, it was ready to acknowledge the supremacy of the Emperor, Lord of the World. Of a strictly national patriotism for Germany or Italy men had very little thought indeed. These two seemingly opposite tendencies, the tendency to merge nations in one universal dominion, and the tendency to 300 THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. [Essay divide nations into small principalities and commonwealths, were in truth closely connected. The tendency to division comes out most strongly in the kingdoms which were united to the Empire. Other countries showed a power of strictly national action, of acquiring liberties common to the whole nation, of legislating in the interest of the whole nation, almost in exact proportion to the degree in which they were placed beyond the reach of Imperial influences. Spain, Scandinavia, Britain, were the countries on which the Empire had least influence. Spain, Scandinavia, Britain, were therefore the countries in which we see the nearest approaches to true national life and consciousness. Still there is no doubt that, even within the Empire, national feelings did exercise a strong, though in a great measure an unconscious, influence. Local feelings exercised an influence still stronger. But there was no national or local feeling which could gather round Frederick the Second. There was no national or local cause of which he could be looked on as the champion. There was no nation, no province, no city, which could claim him as its own peculiar hero. Ruling over men of various races and languages, he could adapt himself to each of them in turn in a way in which few men before or after him could do. But there was none of the various races of his dominions, German, Burgundian, Italian, Norman, Greek, or Saracen, which could claim him as really bone of its bone and flesh of its flesh. His parentage was half German, half Norman, his birthplace was Italian, the home of his choice was Sicilian, his tastes and habits were strongly suspected of being Saracenic. The representative of a kingly German house, he was himself, beyond all doubt, less German than anything else. He was Norman, Italian, almost anything rather than German ; but he was far from being purely Norman or purely Italian. In this position, placed as it were above all ordinary local and national ties, he was, beyond every other prince who ever wore the Imperial diadem, the embodiment of the conception of an X.] THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. 301 Emperor, Lord of the World. But an Emperor, Lord of the World, is placed too high to win the affections which attach men to rulers and leaders of lower degree. A king may- command the love of his own kingdom ; a popular leader may command the love of his own city. But C?esar, whose dominion is from the one sea to the other and from the flood unto the world's end, must, in this respect as in others, pay the penalty of his greatness. Frederick was, in idea, beyond all men, the hero and champion of the Empire. But practically the championship of the Empire was found less truly effective in his hands than in the hands of men who were further from carrying out the theoretical ideal. The Imperial power was more truly vigorous in the hands of princes in whom the ideal cham- pionship of the Empire was united with the practical leadership of one of its component nations. Frederick Barbarossa, the true German king, the man whom the German instinct at once hails as the noblest developement of the German character, really did more for the greatness of the Empire than his descendant, whose ideal position was far more truly Lnperial, The men who influence their age, the men who leave a lasting memory behind them, are the men who are thoroughly identified with the actual or local life of some nation or city, Frederick Barbarossa was the hero of Germany; but his grandson", the hero of the Empire, was the hero of none of its component parts. The memory of the grandfather still Hves in the hearts of a people, some of whom perhaps even now look for his personal return. The memory of the grandson has every- where passed away from popular remembrance ; the Wonder of the World remains to be the wonder of scholars and historians only. In this last respect the memory of Frederick the Second has certainly nothing to complain of. Few princes have ever had such a monument raised to them as has been raised to the memory of the last Swabian Emperor by the munificence of the Duke of Luynes and the learning 302 THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. [Essay and industry of M. Huillard-Br^holles. Here, in a series of noble quartos, are all the documents of a reign most fertile in documents, ushered in by a volume which, except in not assuming a strictly narrative form, is essen- tially a complete history of Frederick's reign. M. Huil- lard-Br^holles seems literally to have let nothing escape him. He discusses at length everything which in any way concerns his hero, from the examination of schemes which look very like the institution of a new religion down to the minutest details of form in the wording, dating, and spelling of the Emperor's official acts. We never saw a book which is more thoroughly exhaustive of the subject with which it deals. It is not a history, merely because the form of an introduction or preface seems to have laid M. Brdholles under the necessity of giving us, instead of a single regular narrative, a series of distinct narrative discussions of each of the almost countless aspects in which the reign of Frederick can be looked at. M. Br^hoUes has also followed up his great work by a monograph of the life and aims of one whose history is inseparably bound together Avith that of Frede- rick, his great and unfortunate minister, Peter de Vinea. In this he examines at full length a subject to which we shall again return, and which is perhaps the most inter- esting of all which the history of Frederick presents, namely, the relation of the freethinking and reforming Emperor to the received religion of this age. On this point we cannot unreservedly pledge ourselves to all the details of M. BrehoUes' conclusions ; but they are at least highly ingenious, and the contemporary evidence on which he grounds them is most singular and interesting, and deserves most attentive study. Altogether we can have no hesitation in placing M. BrehoUes' investigation of the reign of Frederick the Second among the most im- portant contributions which our age has made to historical learning. Nor has the character and history of Frederick failed to X.] THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. 303 attract notice among scholars in our own country. His career supplies materials for one of the most brilliant parts of Dean Milman's History of Latin Christianity; there is no part of his great work which is more palpably a labour of love. More recently has appeared the history of Frede- rick by Mr. Kington-Oliphant, the production of a young- writer, and which shows want of due preparation in some of the introductory portions, but which also shows real research and real vigour as the author approaches his main subject, the hfe of Frederick himself. JMi*. Oliphant is confessedly a disciple of M. Breholles, and his volumes, as supplying that direct and continuous narrative which M. Breholles' plan did not allow of, may be taken as a companion-piece to the great work of his master."^ The reign of Frederick, like that of his predecessor Henry the Fourth, was nearly co-extensive with his life. His history began while he was in his cradle. Like Heniy the Fourth, after filUng the fii'st place in men's minds for a long series of years, he died at no very advanced time of life. Frederick, born in 1194, died in 1250, at the age of fifty-six, Henry at the time of his death was a year younger. Yet it marks a difference between the two men that historians seem involuntarily, in defiance of chronology, to think and speak of Henry in his later years as quite an aged man. No one ever speaks in this way of Frederick. The Wonder of the World seems endowed with a kind of undying youth, and after all the great events and revolutions of his reign, we are at last surprised to find that we have passed over so many years as we really have. Frederick was a king almost from his birth. The son of the Emperor Henry the Sixth and of Constance the heiress of Sicily, he was born while his father was in his full career of success and cruelty. His very birth gave occasion to mythical tales. The comparatively ad- vanced age of his mother, which however has been greatly * [Mr. Oliphant is now better known for researches into the history of the English language.] [i886.] 304 THE EMPFAIOR FREDERICK THE SECOND. [Essay exaggerated, gave occasion to rumours of opposite kinds. His enemies gave out that he was not really of Imperial birth, and that the childless Empress had palmed off a supposititious child on her husband. His admirers hailed his birth as wonderful, if not miraculous, and placed the conception of Constance alongside of the conceptions of the mothers of Isaac, of Samuel, and of John the Eaptist. Elected King of the Romans in his infancy, his father's death left him in his third year his successor in the Sicihan kingdom, and his mother s death in the next year left an orphan boy as the heir alike of the Hohenstaufen Emperors and of the Norman kings. His election as King of the Romans seems to have been utterly forgotten ; after the death of his father, the crown was disputed by the double election of Otto of Saxony and of Frederick's own uncle . Philip. The child in Sicily was not thought of till Philip had been murdered just when fortune seemed to have finally decided for him ; till Otto, reaping the advantage of a crime of which he was guiltless, had been enabled to secure both the kingdom and the Empire, and till he had fallen into disgrace with the Pontiff by whose favour he had at fii'st been supported. Meanwhile the Sicilian kingdom was torn by rebellions and laid waste by mercenary captains. The land had at last been restored to some measure of peace, and the young king to some measure of authority, by the intervention of the overlord Pope Innocent. Frederick was a husband at fifteen, a father at eighteen, and almost at the same moment as the birth of his first son, Henry the future king and rebel, he was called to the. German crown by the party which was discontented with Otto, now under the ban of the Church. Frederick, destined to be the bitterest enemy of the Roman see, made his first appear- ance on German soil as its special nursling, called to royalty and Empire under the auspices of the greatest of the Roman Pontiffs. He came thither also, there seems little reason to doubt, under patronage of a less honour- X.] THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. 305 able kind. The long disputes between England and France had already begun, and, by a strange anticipation of far later times, they had already begun to be carried on within the boundaries of the Empire. Otto, the son of an English mother, was supported by the money and the arms of his uncle John of England, while the heir of the Hohenstaufen partly owed his advancement to the influence and the gold of Philip of France. In 121 1 Frederick was elected King ; three years later, Otto, in Mr. Oliphant's words, " rushed on his doom." At Eou- vines, a name hardly to be written without an unpleasant feeling by any man of Teutonic blood and speech, the King of the French overthrew the Saxon Emperor and his English and Flemish allies. The power of Otto, akeady crumbling away, was now utterly broken. In 1 2 15, while John was quailing before his triumphant barons, Frederick, the rival of his nephew, received the royal crown and assumed the cross. Three years later, the death of Otto removed all traces of opposition to his claims, an event which, by a singular coincidence, was nearly contemporaneous with the birth of one des- tined to be himself, not only a king, but the beginner of a new stage in the history of the Empire, the famous Rudolf of Habsburg. In 1220 Frederick's son Henry, then only eight years old, was elected King, although his father was not yet crowned Emperor. But in the course of the same year Frederick received the Imperial diadem at the hands of Pope Honorius. His coronation was an event deserving of special record in the Roman annals, as one of the very few times when an Emperor received his crown without bloodshed or disturbance, amid the loyal acclamations of the Roman people. Possibly some conscious or unconscious feeling of national kindred spoke in favour of an Emperor born within the borders of Italy, and under whose rule it might seem that Germany and not Italy was likely to be the secondary and de- pendent realm. In truth, in that same year, before leaving X 306 THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. [Essay his Northern kingdom, Frederick had, seemingly as the price of the election of his son, put the seal to the de- struction of the royal power in Germany. The charter which he granted in that year to the German princes is one of the marked stages of the long process which changed the kingdom of Charles and Otto and Henry into the lax Confederation which has so lately fallen in pieces before our eyes."^ Frederick was still, to all appearance, a dutiful son of the Church ; but there were already signs that a storm was brewing. The union between a Pope and a Hohen- staufen Emperor was something which in its own nature could not be lasting. The magnificent theory which looked on the spiritual and temporal chiefs of Rome as the co- equal rulers of the Church and the world always gave way at the slightest strain. Even before his Imperial coronation, Frederick had fallen under the displeasure of Honorius ; he had received rebukes and had had to make excuses. As usual, the two swords were always clashing; the King of Sicily w^as charged with meddling with eccle- siastical fiefs and with the freedom of ecclesiastical elections. But the great point was the Crusade. Frederick had be- come a crusader at the time of his assumption of the German crown ; but no crusade had he as yet waged. Damietta had been won, and Damietta was soon after lost again, without the temporal head of Christendom striking a blow to win or to defend it. The position thus lightly dealt with was held to be the very key of the Holy Land. In the eyes of a Pope such neglect was a wicked forsaking of the first of duties. It might per- haps have appeared in the same light in the eyes of an ideal Emperor. But the hereditary King of Sicily, the elected King of Germany, Italy, and Burgundy, found occupation enough in the lower duties of ordinary royalty. In all his kingdoms there were matters calling for his attention. In his own hereditary realm he had a work * [December, 1866.] X.] THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. 307 to do which he might fairly plead as an excuse for not engaging in warfare beyond the sea. He had no need to go and seek for Saracen enemies in distant lands while the Saracens of his own island were in open revolt. He brought into subjection both the turbulent infidels and the no less turbulent nobles, and he made Sicily the model of a civilized and legal despotism, framed after the pattern of the best days of the Eastern Empire. The wild Saracens of the mountains were partly constrained to adopt a more peaceful life, partly transferred to a spot where, instead of restless rebels, they became the surest defence of his throne. He planted them in the city of Nocera in Apulia, wheie, isolated in a surrounding Chris- tian country, they dwelt as his housecarls or janissaries, bound by the single tie of personal loyalty — soldiers who could always be trusted, for over them Popes and monks had no influence. Besides this work in his native king- dom, a work enough by itself to tax all the energies of an ordinary mortal, he had other work to do in all his Imperial realms. Not the least interesting among the notices of this part of his reign are those which concern the states along his western frontier. On the one hand France was already encroaching ; on the other hand a movement was beginning which, had it prospered, might have placed an unbroken line of independent states be- tween the great rival powers. The duty which Switzer- land and Belgium, at too great an interval from one another, have still to discharge, fell, in the thirteenth cen- tury, to the lot of a whole crowd of rising commonwealths. From the mouths of the Rhine to the mouths of the Rhone, republics, worthy sisters of the republics of Italy and Northern Germany, were springing up through the whole length of ancient Lotharingia and Burgundy. It is sad to see Frederick everywhere interfering to check this new birth of freedom. Everywhere the local count or bishop was encouraged to subdue the presumptuous rebels of the cities. Take two instances from cities widely apart in X 2 308 THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. [Essay geographical position. Massalia, the old Ionian common- wealth, the city which had braved the might of Csesar and which was before many years to brave the might of Charles of Anjou, had begun her second and shorter career of freedom. In the eyes of Frederick the citizens were mere rebels against their bishop, and the Count of Pro- vence was bidden to bring them back to their due obedi- ence. So, at almost the other end of the Empire, the citizens of Cam bray failed to pay due submission to the Imperial commands. But here a more dangerous influence was at work. The Emperor was still on good terms with the King of the French ; he had lately concluded a treaty with him ; binding himself, among other things, to enter into no alliance with England. But the instinctive ten- dencies of the Parisian monarchy were then, as ever, too strong for mere written engagements. France was in- triguing with the citizens of Cambray, and the Emperor had to call upon King Lewis to cease from any inter- meddling with his disaffected subjects. We have brought out these points, though of no special importance in the life of Frederick, because they at once illustrate the varied relations of a mediaeval Emperor to all kinds of rulers and communities, great and small, and because they specially illustrate the reality of power which the Emperor still retained both in his Burgundian kingdom and in other portions of the Empire which have since been swallowed up by the encroachments of France. Neither of our authors brings out this point as it should be brought out. M. Breholles is far too learned to be ignorant of, far too candid to suppress, any one fact in his history. Still he is a Frenchman, and we can hardly expect him to enter a formal protest against tlie most popular of all French delusions. Mr. Oliphant knows his facts, but he does not fully grasp them. It is with a kind of surprise that he finds " that many provinces, now included within the boundaries of France, then looked for direction to Hagenau or Palermo, not to Paris." To X.] THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. 309 be sure Mr. Eryce's tabular view of the Ten Burgundies had not been drawn up when Mr. Oliphant wrote. At last we reach Frederick's crusade, perhaps rather to be called his progress to the East. The marriage of Frederick with Yolande of Brienne put him into altogether a new rela- tion to the Holy Land and all that pertained to it. His journey to Jerusalem was now, not that of a private adven- turer or pilgrim, not that of an Emperor acting as the common head of Christendom, but that of a king going to take possession of one of his own kingdoms, to receive yet another crown in another of his capitals. And in truth Frederick, when he had once set out, found less difficulty in winning his way to the crown of Jerusalem than some of his predecessors in the Empire had found in winning their way to the crown of Rome. Everything seemed against him ; the papal throne had a new and very different occupant ; to the mild Honorius had succeeded the stern and unbending Gregory. Frederick's second Empress was already dead, and with her, it might be argued, he had lost his right to a kingdom which he could claim only through her. He him- self was excommunicated at every step ; if he went, if he stayed, the ban was equally launched against him for going and for staying. Yet he went : on his way he successfully established his Imperial rights over the Frank king of Cyprus, a rival claimant for the crown of Jerusalem. Without striking a blow, by dexterous diplomacy, by taking advantage of the divided and tottering state of the Mahometan powers, he gained the main object for which Christendom had striven in vain for forty years. A Christian king again reigned in the Holy City, and the sepulchre of Christ was again in the hands of His wor- shippers. It was a strange position when the excom- municated king, in whose presence any religious office was forbidden, placed on his own head the crown of the Holy Land in the church of the Holy Sepulchre. It might almost seem as if it was in this strange moment of trial that Frederick's faith finally gave way. The suspicion of 310 THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. [Essay Mahometanism which attached to him is of course, in its literal sense, utterly absurd ; but it is wortliy of notice that it was not confined to Christian imaginations. The con- duct of Frederick at Jerusalem impressed more than one Mahometan writer with the belief that, if the Emperor was not an actual proselyte to Islam, he was at least not sound in the faith which he outwardly professed. It must be re- membered that the toleration of Mahometan worship within its walls was one of the conditions on which Frederick obtained possession of the Holy City. A stipulation like this might well arouse suspicions of his Christian orthodoxy in the minds of Christians and Mussulmans alike. In modern eyes his conduct appears simply just and reasonable; setting aside any abstract doctrine of religious toleration, the view of a modern statesman would be that Frederick preferred, and wisely preferred, instead of putting every- thing to the hazard of the sword, to win his main object by treaty, and to yield on some lesser points. The essence of a treaty between two powers treating on equal terras is that each should abate somewhat of that which it holds to be the full measure of its rights. Few will now condemn Frederick for choosing to accept such large concessions by treaty rather than to trust everything to the chances of war. Had he done otherwise, he might probably have had to return to Europe after wasting his forces in a struggle as bootless as those of most of the crusaders who had gone before him. And it seems that, even in his own age, a large amount of general European feeling went with him. His treatment at the hands of the Pope and the papal party -was so manifestly unjust as to arouse a deep feeling in his favour in all parts of Christendom. In Italy, in Germany, in England, the chief writers of the time all side with Frederick against Gregory. Allowance w^as made for his position ; he had done what he could; had he not laboured under an unrighteous excommunication, had he not been thwarted and betrayed by the clergy and the military orders, he would have done far more. Still the iudiunation of the X.] THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. 3 1 1 extreme ecclesiastical party against Frederick was, from their own point of view, neither unnatural nor unreasonable. In the eyes of some zealots any treaty with the infidels was in itself unlawful ; even without going this length, a treaty which, though it secured the Holy Sepulchre to the Christian, left the " Temple of the Lord" to the Mahometan, could not fail to offend some of the most deep-seated feelings of the age. Whatever might be Frederick's own faith, he at least had not the orthodox hatred for men of another faith. Various incidental actions and expressions of the Emperor during his stay at Jerusalem impressed the Mahometans themselves with the idea that he at least put both religions pretty much on a level. We must remember that his toleration of Mahometanism would be a thing which few Mahometans would appreciate, and which would of itself raise suspicions in most oriental minds. A man who could act with justice and moderation towards men of their law would seem to them to be no real believer in the law which he himself professed. But this could not have been all : the impression of Frederick's lack of orthodoxy, and of his special tendency towards Mahometanism, was too deeply fixed in the minds of men of both creeds to have rested only on an inference of this kind. And it is perfectly credible in itself. A King of Sicily, who from his child- hood had had to do with Saracens in his own kino-dom both in peace and in war, who, if he had sometimes had to deal with them as enemies, had also found that they could be changed into its bravest and most loyal soldiers, could not possibl}^ hate the unbelievers with the hatred which in the breast of a King of England or France might be a per- fectly honest passion. Then, just at the moment when he was naturally stung to the heart by his ill treatment at the hands of the head of his own faith, when he was denied communion in Christian rites, when the ministers and de- fenders of the Christian Church shrank from him as from one worse than an infidel — just at such a moment as this, he came across a fuller and more splendid developement of 312 THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. [Essay the Mahometan law among the independent Mahometan powers of the East. There was much in the aspect of Mahometan society to attract him. The absolute authority of the Mahometan sovereigns was congenial to his political notions. The art and science, such as it was, of the more civilize! Mahometan nations appealed to his intellectual cravings. The license allowed by the Mahometan law fell in no less powerfully with the impulses of his voluptuous temperament. That Frederick ever, strictly speaking, became a Mahometan is of course an absurd fable. It is not even necessary to believe that he ever formally threw aside all faith in the dogmas of Christianity as understood in his own age. But that Frederick, with all his professions of orthodoxy, was at least a freethinker, that he indulged in speculations which the orthodoxy of his age condemned, it is hardly possible to doubt. That he aimed at the widest changes in the external fabric of the Christian Church, in the relations between the spiritual and the temporal, between the Papal and the Imperial, powers, there can be no doubt at all. And, if there was any one moment of change in Frederick's mind, any one moment when doubt, if not disbelief, obtained the supremacy over his mind, no moment is so likely as that in which he saw Christianity and Islam standing side by side in the Holy City of both religions, and when, as regarded him- self, it could not have been Christianity which appeared in the more attractive light. We had hoped to give a sketch, if only a short one, of the main events in Frederick's later career — his reconciliation with Gregory, his season of comparative tranquillity in his Sicilian realm, his schemes of government and legislation, his second and final rupture with Gregory, his last struggle with Innocent, his last excommunication and deposition, and the political consequences of that bold stretch of papal authority in the appearance of rival kings in Germany and the general weakening of the Imperial power throughout the Empire. But the reflexions to which we have been led X.] THE EMPEIWR FREDERICK THE SECOND. 313 by the consideration of Frederick's position at Jerusalem lead us at once to questions which may well occupy our remaining space. On the question of Frederick's religion Mr. Oliphant hardly enlarges at all; Dean Milman sums up his own view in a few remarkable words : — "Frederick's, in my jnclgiuent, was neither scornful and godless infidelity, nor certainly a more advanced and enlightened Christianity, yearning after holiness and purity not then attainable. It was tlie shattered, duhious, at times trembling faith, at times desperately reckless incredulity, of a man under the burthen of an undeserved excommunication, of which he could not but discern the injustice, but could not quite shake off the terrors ; of a man whom a better age of Christianity might not have made religious ; whom his own made irreligious." Eut M. Breholles, both in his general Introduction and in his special monograph of Peter de Vinea, goes very much deeper into the question. He gathers together a great number of passages from contemporary writers, which, in his judgement, are evidence that Frederick was, in the eyes of a small knot of enthusiastic admii'ers, looked on as some- thing like the apostle, or rather the Messiah, of a new religion. Such a notion is certainly much less improbable in itself than, with our modern notions, it seems to us. Everything was then looked at from a religious point of view. Political partizanship took the form of religious worship ; the man who died for his country or for his party was canonized as a martyr, and miracles were deemed to be wrought at his grave. The famous case of Simon of Montfort, a younger contemporary of Frederick, is perhaps the strongest of any. Simon died under a papal excommunication ; but no excommunication could hinder the English people, and the mass of the English clergy among them, from looking on the martyred earl as the patron of the English nation, whose relics possessed healing virtues on earth, and whose intercession could not fail to be availing in heaven. The age of Frederick moreover was eminently an age of religious movement. The new monastic orders on the one hand, the countless heresies on the other, sprang out of the same source, and sometimes 314 THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. [Essay mingled together in a strange way. The heretic who was sent to the stake and the Dominican friar who sent liim thither were, each in his own way, witnesses to a general feeling of dissatisfaction with the existing state of the Church, to a general striving after something new, in dogma^ in discipline, or in practice, according to the dis- position of each particular reformer. Strange writings, setting forth strange doctrines, were afloat before the days of Frederick and remained afloat after his days. The whole of the inner circle of the Franciscan order, the order of personal self-sacrifice and mystic devotion, seemed fast sweeping into something more than heresy. Even the pillars of orthodox}^ the unrelenting avengers of every deviation from the narrow path, the stern, practical, relent- less, Dominicans, did not escape the suspicion of being touched by the same contagion. That contagion was indeed more than heresy ; it was the preaching of a new religion. To the believers in the " Everlasting Gospel " Christianity itself seemed, just as it seems to a Mahometan, to be a mere imperfect and temporary dispensation, a mere prepara- tion for something better which was to come. The reign of the Father, with its revelation in the Mosaic Law, had passed away; the reign of the Son, with its revelation in the Christian Church, was passing away; the reign of the Holy Ghost was approaching, with its own special revela- tion, more perfect than all. The age was one which could hardly bear to look upon anything in a purely secular way. Even when the spiritual and temporal powers came into conflict, the conflict was of a somewhat diflerent kind from similar conflicts in our own day. The Ghibelin doctrine was far from being a mere assertion of the superiority of a power confessedly of the earth, earthy, over a power con- fessedly of higher origin. The Empire had its religious devotees as well as the Popedom. In the ideas of both parties a Vicar of Christ was a necessity; the only question was whether the true Vicar of Christ was to be looked for in the Roman Pontifl' or in the Roman Csesar. To the X.] THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. 315 enthusiastic votaries of the Empire the Emperor seemed as truly a direct representative of Divinity, as literally a power reigning by divine right as ever the Pope could seem in the eyes of the strongest assertor of ecclesiastical claims. It is the growth of independent nations and Churches which has, more than anything else, dealt the death-blow to both theories. But in Frederick's time no man within the limits of the Empire could be a vehement opponent of the temporal or spiritual claims of the Pope without in some measure asserting a spiritual as well as a temporal power in the Emperor. This deification of the Imperial power attained its fullest and most systematic developement among the writers who undertook the defence of Lewis of Bavaria ; but there is no doubt that ideas of the same kind were ah-eady busily at work in the days of Frederick. So far as Frederick was an opponent of the papal power, so far as he contemplated any transfer of power from the Papacy to the Empire, so far in short as he appeared at all in the character of an ecclesiastical reformer, he could only do so, if not in his own eyes at least in those of his admirers, by transferring to himself, as Roman Emperor, some portion of that official holiness of which he proposed to deprive the Roman Pontiff. Now, perplexing as is the question of Fredericks personal belief, his external position, as Emperor and Kiug, towards ecclesiastical questions is intelligible enough. He always professed strict orthodoxy of dogma in his own person, and in his legislation he strictly enforced such orthodoxy within the pale of the Christian Church. To the Jew and the Mahometan he gave full toleration ; the Christian heretic found in him a persecutor as cruel as the most enthusiastic Dominican turned loose upon the victims of the elder Montfort. There is no necessary inconsistency in such a position ; it is, in fact, one which was acknowledged by the general treatment of the Jews throughout the middle ages. The Jew or the Mahometan is something altogether external to the Church. He is a foreign enemy, not an 316 THE EMPEROR EREDERTCK THE SECOND. [Essay inborn rebel ; he is one against whom the Church may rightfully wage war, but not one whom she can claim to bring before her domestic judgement-seat. But the heretic is a home-bred traitor ; he is not a foreign enemy of the Church, but a native rebel against her ; he is there- fore an object, not of warfare, but of judicial punishment. A Christian sovereign then, according to the mediaeval theory, is in no way bound to molest Jews or Maho- metans simply as Jews or Mahometans ; he must secure Christians from any molestation at their hands, from any proselytism of their creed ; but the Jew or the Mahometan is not amenable to punishment simply on the ground of his misbelief. But the heretic is so amenable. The Jew has never been under the allegiance of the Church ; he is a foreigner, not to be injured unless he commits some act of national enmity. But the heretic is one who has cast oti' his allegiance to the Church ; he is a spiritual rebel to be chastised as unsparingly as the temporal rebel. This principle was acted on throughout the middle ages. The Jew was often exposed to unfavourable legislation ; he was still more commonly visited with illegal or extra-legal oppression ; but a Jew, simply as a Jew, was never held to be liable to the penalties of heresy. What is remark- able in Frederick's legislation is the real and eftective nature of the toleration which he secured to Jews and Mahometans, combined with the fact that such a man as he was should appear as a religious persecutor under any circumstances. If he really handed over heretics to the flames in cold blood, simply to keep up for himself a character for orthodoxy which he did not deserve, it is hardly possible to conceive a greater measure of guilt. And the guilt is hardly less if ho employed the popular prejudice against heresy to destroy political enemies under the garb of heretics. But it is possible to explain Frede- ricks persecutions without attributing to him such detest- able wickedness as this. Though a legislator may be per- Bonally a freethinker, or oven a confirmed unbeliever, it X.] THE EMPFAIOR FREDERICK THE SECOND. 317 does not at all follow that he thinks it either possible or desirable to abolish the public establishment of Christianity in his dominions. And, in the view of all times and places up to his day and long after, the public establishment of any religious system involved the legal punishment of those who separated from it. Frederick might thus hold it to be a matter of public order and public justice to chastise men for publicly rebelling against a system in which he had himself lost all personal faith. Persecution of this sort is far more hateful than the persecutions of the honest fanatic, who burns a few men in this world to save many from being burned in the next. Still it does not reach the same measure of guilt as the detestable hypocrisy which at first seems to be the obvious explanation of Frederick's conduct in this respect. Frederick then professed strict orthodoxy of dogma, and persecuted those who departed from such orthodoxy. But it is plain that, as to the relations between the spiritual and temporal powers, he was not orthodox in the papal sense. It was hardly possible that any Emperor should be so. In the ideal theory of the two powers, the Pope and the Emperor are strictly coequal ; the authority of each is alike divine within its own range. But rigidly to define the range of each is so hard a matter that this ideal theory could hardly fail to remain an ideal theory. The practical question always was whether the Emperor should be subject to the Pope or the Pope subject to the Emperor. On this question we cannot doubt that Frederick had formed a very decided judgement indeed. With such an intellect as his, in such a position as his, the subjection of the Pope to the Emperor would be an established prin- ciple from the first moment that he was capable of specu- lating about such matters at all. Every event of his life, every excommunication pronounced by a Pope, every act of hostility or treachery on the part of churchmen or military monks, would tend to confirm his decision. How far Frederick, the innovator, the revolutionist, the despiser 318 THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. [Essay of received beliefs, may have been influenced by the tra- ditional theories of the Holy Eoman Empire is another matter. It is possible that he employed them as useful for his purpose, without that honest faith in them which clearly moved the Ottos and his own grandfather. The magnificent theory of the Empire may well have kindled his imagination, and he may have consciously striven to change that magnificent theory into a living reality. But the dominion at which he aimed was the effective imme- diate dominion of a Byzantine Emperor or a Saracen Sultan, rather than the shadowy lordship of a world every inch of which was really partitioned out among inde- pendent princes and commonwealths. But, whether strictly as Emperor or in any other character, there can be no doubt that Frederick gradually came to set before himself, as the main object of his life, the depression of the spiritual, and the exaltation of the temporal, power. As we said before, whatever might have been Frederick's own secret views, such a transfer of power as this could, in that age, hardly take any outward form or shape except that of a further deification of the temporal power, a more complete acknowledgement of the Emperor, and not the Pope, as the true Vicar of Christ upon earth. We must also remember the tendencies and ways of expression of that age, how every thought took a religious turn, how, just as among the Puritans of the seventeenth century, every strong feeling instinctively clothed itself in scrip- tural language. Every one who knows anything of the literature of those times is familiar with the way in which the thoughts and words of Scripture are liabitually applied by men to their own public or private affairs, applied in the most thorough good faith, but in a tone which to our habits seems in-everent, and sometimes almost blasphemous. It is therefore in no way wonderful to find devoted par- tizans of Frederick investing him with a relio^ious cha- racter, and lavishing upon him the most sacred language of prophets and apostles. Again, the Christian Empei'ors X.] THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. 319 had all along kept on from their pagan predecessors several official phrases borrowed from the old heathendom. The Emperor and all that belonged to him was " divine " and "sacred;" his rescripts were "oracles;" his parents and his children were spoken of as if they belonged to a stock higher than mankind. Between these two influences we are not surprised to find Frederick spoken of in terms which, with modern feelings, we should apply only to the holiest of objects. The question now comes, Was Frederick ever directly and seriously put forth by himself or by his followers as the prophet, apostle, or Messiah of a new religion 1 That he was so put forth seems to be the opinion of M. Breholles, and we must wind up by a glance at the evidence on which he founds his belief. He would hardly rely with any great confidence on two or three scoffing speeches attributed to Frederick himself, which may or may not have been really uttered by him, but w^hich in any case illustrate the conception which men in general formed of him. Thus, as is w^ell knowm, he was commonly be- lieved to have said that Jews, Christians, and Saracens had been led away by three impostors, Moses, Jesus, and Mahomet, and that he, Frederick, would set up a better religion than any of them. If such a speech w^as ever made, it could only have been in mockery ; it would convict Frederick of utter contempt for all religion, rather than of any serious scheme for setting up a religion of his own. The real stress of the argument lies on the meaning to be put on certain passages in which con- temporary partizans of Frederick speak of him in lan- guage wdiich undoubtedly has, at first sight, a very ex- traordinary sound. It is not w^onderful, in an age when every name was played upon and made the subject of mystical explanations, that the fact that Frederick's great minister bore the name of Peter should have been made the subject of endless allusions. The parallel drawn be- tween Simon Peter and his master and Peter de Vinea 320 THE EMPEROR FREDERICK THE SECOND. [Essay and his master shocks the taste of our times, but it was thoroughly in the taste of the thirteenth century. Peter is to go on the water to his master ; he is converted and he is to strengthen his brethren ; his master has committed to him the trust to feed his sheep and to bear the keys of his kingdom. All these and other expressions of the same kind are found in the original documents collected by M. Breholles. So we find Frederick hailed as a saint ; ■ — Vivat, vie at Saucfi Friderici nomeu in popido. We find Frederick himself, in one and the same passage, applying to his mother the old title of pagan divinity, and speaking of his birthplace in a way which implies a parallel between himself and Christ. Constance is diva mater voiten" is even more wonderful than when Machiavelli calls the Gauls of Brennus Frenchmen : but it ia almost more amazing still when, in another passage (i. 140), Valerius Anshelm distinctly claims the ancient frontier of the Hel- vetii as the hereditary frontier of tlie Confederates : " Hat ein gliicksame Stadt Bern, mit Bystand ihrer Eydgnossen . . . eroberet und gewunnen der ■urdllen Eydiinoasuchaft uralte Landmarch, gegen Sonnen-Nidergang rei- chend — namlich das Land zwiisclien dem Liiberer-Gebirg und dem Kotten, von Erlach und Murten an bis gan lenf an die Brugg," &c. XI.] CHARLES THE BOLD. 335 contrary. Mr. Kirk's position as an historian is many- degrees above that level. We only mention what strikes us as his deficiencies in this respect, because it influences the general character of his narrative, and sometimes hinders him from fully grasping the aspect of affairs as it looked in the eyes of a contemporary. It follows from what we have said that the earlier part of Mr. Kirk's work is the best. The career of Charles the Bold, as he points out, naturally falls into two parts, and Mr. Kirk is more successful in dealing with the former of the two. This twofold division is naturally suggested by Charles's twofold position. His career divides itself into a French and a German portion. In both alike he is exposed to the restless rivalry of Lewis of France ; but in the one period that rivalry is carried on openly within the French territory, while in the second stage the crafty king finds the means to deal far more effectual blows through the agency of Teutonic hands. That Charles should thus play a part in the affairs of both countries naturally followed from his position as at once a French prince and a prince of the Empire ; but it is certainly remarkable that his two spheres of action can be thus mapped out with almost as much chronological as geographical precision. The position of Charles was a very peculiar one ; it requires a successful shaking-off of modern notions fully to take in what it was. He held the rank of one of the first princes in Europe without being a king, and without possessing an inch of ground for which he did not owe service to some superior lord. And, more than this, he did not owe service to one lord only. The phrase of " Great Powers " had not been invented in the fifteenth century ; but there can be no doubt that, if it had been, the Duke of Burgundy would have ranked among the foremost of them. He was, in actual strength, the equal of his royal neighbour to the west, and far more than the equal of his Imperial neighbour to the east. Yet for every inch of his territories he owed a 336 CHARLES THE BOLD. [Essay vassal's duty to one or other of them. Placed on the borders of France and the Empire, some of his territories were held of the Empire and some of the French crown. Charles, Duke of Burgundy, Count of Flanders and Artois, was a vassal of France ; but Charles, Duke of Brabant, Count of Burgundy, Holland, and a dozen other duchies and counties, held his dominions as a vassal of Csesar. His dominions were large in positive extent, and they were valuable out of all proportion to their extent. No other prince in Europe was the direct sovereign of so many rich and flourishing cities, rendered still more rich and flourish- ing through the long and, in the main, peaceful adminis- tration of his father. The cities of the Netherlands were incomparably greater and more prosperous than those of France or England ; and, though they enjoyed large municipal privileges, they were not, like those of Germany, independent commonwealths, acknowledging only an ex- ternal superior in their nominal lord. Other parts of his dominions, the duchy of Burgundy especially, were as rich in men as Flanders was rich in money. So far the Duke of Burgundy had some great advantages over every other prince of his time. But, on the other hand, his dominions were further removed than those of any prince in Europe from forming a compact whole. He was not king of one kingdom, but duke, count, and lord of innumerable duchies, counties, and lordships, acquired by different means, held by diflerent titles and of different overlords, speaking- different languages, subject to different laws, transmitted according to diflerent rules of succession, and each subject to possible escheat to its own lord. These various terri- tories moreover had as little geographical as they had political connexion. They lay in two large masses, the two Burgundies forming one and the Low Countries forming the other, so that their common master could not go from one of his capitals to another without passing through a foreign territory. And, even within these two great masses, there were portions of territory intersecting the XI.] CHARLES THE BOLD. 337 ducal dominions which there was no hope of annexing by fair means. The dominions of a neighbouring duke or count might be acquired by marriage, by purchase, by exchange, by various means short of open robbery. But the dominions of the free cities and of the ecclesiastical princes were in their own nature exempt from any such processes. If the Duke of Burgundy became also Duke of Brabant, the inhabitants simply passed from one line of princes to another ; no change was involved in their laws or in their form of government. But, as Mr. Kirk well points out, the bishopric of Llittich could never pass by marriage, inheritance, forfeiture, or purchase. Just as little could the free Imperial city of Besangon. The duke whose dominions hemmed them in could win them only by sheer undisguised conquest, a conquest too which must necessarily change the whole framework of their government. The rights of princely government were in no way affected by the transfer, even the violent transfer, of a duchy from one duke to another; but the rights of the Church in one case, and the rights of civic freedom in the other, would have been utterly trampled under foot by the annexation of a bishopric or a free city. Charles too, lord of so many lordships, was also closely connected with many royal houses. In France he was not only the first feudatory of the kingdom, the Dean of the Peers of France ; he was also a prince of the blood royal, with no great number of lives between him and the crown. On his mother's side he claimed descent from the royal houses of England and Portugal: he closely identified himself with England; he spoke our language ; he played an active part in our politics : he seems to have cherished a hope, one perhaps not wholly unreasonable, that, among the revolutions and disputed successions of our country, the extinction of both the contending houses might at last place the island crown upon his own brow. Looking to his eastern frontier, to the states which he held of the Empire, he was beyond all comparison the most powerful of the Imperial feudatories. z 338 CHARLES THE BOLD. [Essay The next election might place him upon the throne of the Caesars, where he would be able to rei^n after a very different sort from the feeble Austrian whom he aspired to succeed or to displace. Or, failing of any existing crown, he might dream of having a crown called out of oblivion for his special benefit. Burgundy might again give its name to a kingdom, and his scattered duchies and lord- ships might be firmly welded together under a royal sceptre. Perhaps no man ever had so many dreams, dreams which in any one else would have been extravagant, naturally suggested to him by the position in which he found himself by inheritance. And now what sort of man was he who inherited so much, and whose inheritance prompted him to strive after so much more 1 We wish to speak of him as he was in his better days ; towards the end of his life the effect of un- expected misfortunes darkened all his faults, even if it did not actually touch his reason. Mr. Kirk is a biographer, and, as such, he is bound by a sort of feudal tenure to " re- habilitate," as the cant word is, the lord under whom he takes service. We do not at all blame him for trying to make out the best case he can for his hero ; indeed we can go much further, and say that, in a great degree, he success- fully makes out his case. Though he is zealous, he is by no means extravagant, on behalf of Charles. Though he holds, and we think with reason, that Charles has com- monly had less than justice done to him, he by no means sets him up as a perfect model. He rates both his abilities and his character higher than they are commonly rated, but he does not claim for him any exalted genius, neither does he undertake to be the apologist of all his actions. He is satisfied with showing that a man who played an important part in an important time was neither the brute nor the fool that he has been described both by partizan chroniclers and by modern romance-writers. Even in the point where we see most reason to differ from Mr. Kirk, we have little to object to as far as regards Charles XI.] CHARLES THE BOLD, 339 himself. We shall presently see that, in estimating the causes of the war between Charles and the Swiss, Mr. Kirk lays the whole blame upon the Confederates, and represents the Duke of Burgundy as something like an injured victim. Allowing for a little natural exaggeration, we think Mr. Kirk is fairly successful in his justification of Charles ; we do not think him equally successful in his inculpation of the Confederates. Charles was perhaps unlucky in the age in which he lived ; he was certainly unlucky in the predecessor whom he succeeded and in the rival against whom he had to struggle. It may be, as Mr. Kirk says, that he was better fitted for an earlier age than that in which he lived ; it is certain that he was quite unfit either to succeed Philip the Good or to contend against Lewis the Eleventh. One can have no hesitation in saying that Charles was morally a better man than his father. He had greater private virtues, and he was certainly not stained with greater public crimes. Yet Philip passed with unusual prosperity and reputation through a reign of unusual length, while the career of Charles was short and stormy, and he left an evil memory behind him. Philip, profligate as a man and unprincipled as a ruler, was still the Good Duke, who lived beloved and died regretted by his subjects. Charles, chaste and temperate in his private life, and with a nearer approach to justice and good faith in his public dealings than most princes of his time, was hated even by his own soldiers, and died unlamented by any one.* As in many other men, the virtues and the vices of Charles were closely linked together. He knew no mercy either for himself or for anybody else. Austere in his personal morals and a strict * Charles, to say the least, never became a national hero anywhere. The writers of the sixteenth century, who compiled their chronicles within his dominions and inscribed them to his descendants, Oudegherst, Pontus Heute- rus, his copyist Haiseus, and the like, speak of him without any sort of en- thusiasm ; indeed, they are full of those views of his character and actions which Mr. Kirk strongly, and often truly, denounces as popular errors. Z % 340 CHARLES THE BOLD. [Essay avenger of vice in others, he probably made himself enemies by bis very virtues, where a little genial pro- fligacy might have made him friends. His home govern- ment was strictly just ; his ear was open to the meanest petitioner, and he was ready to send the noblest offender to the scaffold. But such stern justice was not the way to make himself popular in those days. A justice which knows not how to yield or to forgive is hardly suited for fallible man in any age, and in that age Charges some- times drew blame upon himself by acts which we should now look on as crowning him with honour. His inex- orable justice refused to listen to any entreaties for the life of a gallant young noble* who had murdered a man of lower degree. In this we look on him as simply dis- charging the first duty of a sovereign ; in his own age the execution seemed to men of all ranks to be an act of remorseless cruelty. In short, Charles, as a civil ruler, practised none of the arts by which much worse rulers have often made themselves beloved. He was chary of gifts, of praise, of common courtesy. No wonder then that so many of his servants forsook him for a prince who at least knew how to appreciate and to reward their services. And what Charles was as a ruler he was even more conspicuously as a captain. In warfare his discipline was terrible ; he imposed indeed no hardship on the lowest sentinel which he did not equally impose upon himself; but the commander who had no kind word for any one, and a heavy punishment for the slightest offence, did not go the way to win the love of his soldiers. His cruelty towards Dinant and Liittich did not greatly exceed — in some respects it did not equal — the ordinary cruelty of the age ; but the cold and ^? [Since then the possibility of a third presidential term, hitherto deemed impossible, has been at last discussed. 1886.] t [Sometiiing much more like doing so than was heard of in 1864 has come to be usual now. 1886.] XII.] PRESIDENTIAL GOVERNMENT. 413 both cases. A President of the Confederate States or a King of Sweden and Norway has in this case the advantage over either. The Confederate President is safe for six years, and cannot be re-elected ; the Scandinavian King is safe for hfe. Either of them can act far more freely according to his own notion of the public interest than is open either to a President of the United States or to an English Minister. Whether it is a gain to allow either King or President so wide a discretion is another matter. Here, as ever, we can only balance the advantages each way. So again the indirect power of deposing the Ministry, which our conventional constitution vests in the House of Commons, leads the House to abdicate many of its functions in favour of the Ministry; it makes the possible fate of a Ministry depend on the decision of questions which should be judged on their own merits ; it affords a constant temp- tation to members to vote this way or that, not because it is the best way, but because it will help to keep in or turn out such a Minister. The American system avoids all this, but it avoids it, to mention no other disadvantages, at the cost of too gi-eat an isolation of the executive and legislative branches from one another. And our system, though it tends to divert attention from real practical interests to the maintenance of this or that man in power, certainly does not thereby make party strife in England any more bitter or any less personal than party strife in America. We have just compared the President with the constitu- tional King acting at his own discretion within the limits of the law and with the First Minister in constitutional monarchies of another kind. It now only remains to con- trast him with the other form of republican executive, the Executive Council, as seen both in the Swiss Confederation and in most of the several Cantons. The Swiss Federal Constitution has several points of likeness with that of America, and the constitution of the two Houses of the Federal Legislature is clearly borrowed from the American 4H PRESIDENTIAL GOVERNMENT. [Essay model.'^ But, in the nature of its Executive, the Swiss Confederation has utterly departed from American prece- dent, and has produced something at least as widely- different from an American President as an American President differs from an European King. In Switzerland the executive power of the Confederation is vested in a Board or Council of seven, as the Buvdesralh or Conseil Federal. This Council is elected by the two Houses of the Federal Assembly acting together. he Federal Assembly itself is chosen for three years, and, when it comes together, it chooses an Executive to last as long as itself. The Pre- sident and Vice-President are chosen yearly by the Assembly from among the members of the Council, and neither of those offices can be held by the same man for two years together. The Council apportions the different departments of state among its own members, but it is expressly declared that this is simply an arrangement of convenience, and that all decisions must issue from the Council as a body. The members of the Council have a right to speak and make proposals in either House of the Federal Legislature, but not to vote. The fust thing that strikes one on considering this system is that it at once hinders the commonwealth from making the most of a great man, and secures the common- wealth from being dragged through the dirt by a small man. The pr^idency of Washington and the presidency of Pierce are in Switzerland alike impossible. The state has no personal chief; the so-called President of the Confederation is only chairman of a board of seven. He cannot do a single act or make a single nomination by his own personal authority. It is clear that this hampering of individual action may be a great evil in the case of a man of genius checked by inferior colleagues ; but it may also be a great good in the case of a presumptuous or * [I speak of the Federal Constitution as it was fixed in 1848. Important changes are now — December, 1871 — January, 1^72— under discussion by the Federal Assembly.] XII.] PRESIDENTIAL GOVERNMENT. 415 incompetent man rendered harmless by wiser colleagues. America, with her personal chief, runs a risk which Switzerland avoids. As in all cases of risk, the more adventurous state sometimes reaps for itself advantages, and sometimes brings on itself evils, from both of which its less daring fellow is equally cut off. It may be that each system better suits the position of the nation which has adopted it. The people of America, a young, vigorous, expanding people, with a whole continent lying open to them, naturally preferred the energetic lead of a personal head. They took their chance ; a bad President could hardly do so much harm as a good President could do good. In Switzerland, on the other hand, a good President could hardly do so much good as a bad President could do harm. Switzerland, though beyond all others a regenerate nation, was still an old nation ; she was a small state hemmed in by greater ones ; she lay between two of the greatest powers of Europe, two of the bitterest and most persevering enemies of right and freedom. Alike the cradle and the refuge of continental liberty, she needed above all things a system which should preserve every- thing and jeopard nothing. She seized on a rare and happy moment, when all the despots of Europe had enough to do at home, to reform her constitution without foreign intermeddling. And she formed a system which exactly suits the position of a small, free, conservative, power ready as ever to defend its own, but neither capable nor desirous of aggrandizement at the expense of others. In such a position as that of Switzerland, the first virtue in a govern- ment is a certain dignified discretion. The League has to hold its own, and sometimes to hold it with some difiiculty. Anything like bravado and anything like servihty would be alike out of place. An incompetent chief of the commonwealth might do irretrievable mischief, and a man of genius, unless genius were more than usually tempered by discretion, might do fully as much mischief as a fool or a traitor. It is then in a spirit of the truest wisdom that 416 PRESIDENTIAL GOVERNMENT. [Essay Switzerland declines to place herself at the mercy of any- single chief. Where moderation and discretion are the virtues most to be prized, a well-chosen Council is better to be trusted than any one man. The wisdom of the Swiss Constitution in this respect has been amply tested by experience. Among all the changes and complications of late years, no government in Europe has displayed a higher degree of practical wisdom than the Federal Council of Switzerland. In every question with foreign powers it has preserved that dignified moderation which best suits the position of the country. In domestic affairs, in the local disputes wdiich still often distract the several Cantons, the action of the Federal power has been invariably such as to command the general respect of the nation. The last event in Swiss history, the late unhappy outrage at Geneva,'^ has been as honourable to the Federal Council as it has been discreditable to the authorities of the Canton. No despot could have acted with greater energy ; no Judge on the bench could have acted with greater impartiality. We can hardly conceive that any single President or succession 'of Presidents could have guided the Confedera- tion with the like wisdom through all the difficulties of the last sixteen years. A weak President might have cringed ignobly before Prussia or Austria or France ; a daring President might have entangled the Confederation in enterprises beyond its strength. The tutelary wisdom of the Federal Council has steered equally clear of both forms of error. The sort of negative wisdom which the Swiss Govern- ment shows, and which is what the position of the country specially needs, is displayed both in the theory and the practice of the Swiss Federal system. The form of Executive which is chosen, and the relations between the executive and legislative branches, avoid most of the positive evils which have been pointed out in other systems. The Council is elective; but its election cannot • [1864.] XII.] PRESIDENTIAL GOVERNMENT. All be made the subject of strife throughout the whole land. There is no opportunity for caucuses and conventions where the election is made by the Legislature itself. No doubt the election of the Federal Councillors will always be a party business ; no doubt they will always represent the party which has the majority in the Assembly ; but they are not themselves the direct creation of a personal struggle carried into every corner of the land. Elected by the Legislature, coming into office along with the Legisla- ture, there is every chance of their acting in harmony with it. Their power of taking a share in the debates of the Assembly at once enables the Assembly to be better in- formed on public affairs, and also takes away that blot on the American system by which a statesman who is ap- pointed to any executive office is debarred, for the time at the least, from any parliamentary career. Irremoveable by the existing Assembly, with the question of their re- election dependent on an Assembly which is not yet in being, they have less need than either English or American statesmen to adapt their policy to meet any momentary cry. On the other hand, acting always as a board, the Swiss Federal Councillors have not the same opportunities of making themselves known in the world which fall to the executive chiefs of other countries. No Swiss states- man enjoys an European reputation. The Ministers of other powers, even of other minor powers, are often well known. Every one just now is familiar with the names of certain statesmen, not only in Prussia and Austria, but in Denmark and Saxony."^ But when the affairs of Neuf- chatel, of Savoy, of the Valley of Dappes, drew the eyes of all Europe upon Switzerland, it was not this or that Swiss statesman who was heard of, but the Federal Council as a bod\^. It is hardly needful to point out how exactly contrary this is to the state of things in America. No one in England ever doubts who is Prime Minister ; no one in * [The Saxon statesman of 1S64 has since become famous on a wider field.] [1871.I E e 418 PRESIDES TIAL GOVERXMEST. [Essay the United States ever doubts who is President. But even in Switzerland itself very well informed men cannot always say off-hand who is the Bundesprdsident of the year. This is by no means necessarily a fault ; perhaps it is just the state of things which should be in a republic ; but it at least strikes any one who is familiar with the personal contests of England and America as a singular peculiarity. We have thus contrasted Presidential Government with Constitutional Monarchies on the one hand and with Executive Councils on the other. Which system is the best of the three is a question which can admit of no general answer. The great lesson of political history is to learn that no kind of government worthy to be called government is universally good or bad in itself. All forms, Kings, Presidents, Councils, anything in short except mere tyranny and mere anarchy, may be the best, as they may be the worst, in some particular age or country. Of the three great systems whicli we have been considering, the English, the American, and the Swiss, we may be sure that each is, on the whole, the best suited to the country in which it is found. None of the three countries would gain by exchanging its own system for the system of either of the others. But this does not show that any one of the three may not profitably study the theory and practice of the other two, and find therein either warnings or examples for its own benefit. The Swiss system is, of all the three, the least open to positive objection ; but it does not there- fore follow that it is better in itself than that of England or of America. Still its success within its own sphere cannot fail to point it out as something worthy of the attention and the admiration of both countries. The American system, as we have seen, is open to objections of the gravest kind, yet there can be little doubt that it will bear transplanting bettor than either of the other two, and that it is better suited than either of the other two to the circumstances of those new commonwealths which are rising in distant corners of the world. 1'hc attempt to transplant XII.] PRESIDENTIAL GOVERNMENT. 419 the traditional English sj^stem to lands where its historical and social groundwork does no: exist has proved a lament- able failure. And for a young, pushing, commonwealth, with the world before it, the dash and enterprise of a well- chosen personal chief will probably be more valuable than the calm defensive wisdom of the Councillors of the Ever- lasting League. It is the American system, in its most essential features, which forms the natural object for the imitation of other communities of Englishmen beyond the seas. It is for them to seize on the leading principles of the immortal work of Washington and Hamilton, to alter such of its general provisions as experience has shown to be defective, to work in such changes in detail as may be needed by any particular commonwealth. The American Constitution, with its manifest defects, still remains one of the most abiding monuments of human wisdom, and it has received a tribute to its general excellence such as no other political system was ever honoured with. The States which have seceded from its government, the States which look with the bitterest hatred on its actual administrators, have re-enacted it for themselves in all its essential pro- visions. Nothing but the inveterate blindness of party- spirit can hinder this simple fact from at once stopping the mouths of cavillers. Sneers at republics, at democracies, at federal systems, are, wherever they are found, mere proofs of ignorance and shallowness ; but there are no mouths in which they are so utterly inconsistent, so utterly self-condemning, as in the mouths of champions of the Southern Confederation. THE END. ■:t - '*t T «> ^ ■^" ^>- UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACIUTr AA 000 881 697 7 _^: CENTRAL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY University of California, San Diego } DATE DUE a — < PTR OS 1Q7R ^ r L P — vj u I u MAK l;c RtC'O HAR lem 1 ; : ;v -^ 'V' ' ■" " ■' •/ CI 39 UCSD Libr.