ORIGIN OF HISTORY, AND STATE OF HISTORICAL LITERATURE DURING THE MIDDLE AGES.
I have now laid before the reader an examination of those conspicuous circumstances to which the progress of civilization is commonly ascribed; and I have proved that such circumstances, so far from being the cause of civilization, are at best only its effects; and that although religion, literature, and legislation do, undoubtedly, modify the condition of mankind, they are still more modified by it. Indeed, as we have clearly seen, they, even in their most favourable position, can be but secondary agents; because, however beneficial their apparent influence may be, they are themselves the product of preceding changes, and their results will vary according to the variations of the society on which they work.
It is thus that, by each successive analysis, the field of the present inquiry has been narrowed, until we have found reason to believe that the growth of European civilization is solely due to the progress of knowledge, and that the progress of knowledge depends on the number of truths which the human intellect discovers, and on the extent to which they are diffused. In support of this proposition, I have, as yet, only brought forward such general arguments as establish a very strong probability; which, to raise to a certainty, will require an appeal to history in the widest sense of the term. Thus to verify speculative conclusions by an exhaustive enumeration of the most important particular facts, is the task which I purpose to execute so far as my powers will allow; and in the preceding chapter I have briefly stated the method according to which the investigation will be conducted. Besides this, it has appeared to me that the principles which I have laid down may also be tested by a mode of proceeding which I have not yet mentioned, but which is intimately connected with the subject now before us. This is, to incorporate with an inquiry into the progress of the history of Man, another inquiry into the progress of History itself. By this means, great light will be thrown on the movements of society; since there must always be a connexion between the way in which men contemplate the past, and the way in which they contemplate the present; both views being in fact different forms of the same habits of thought, and therefore presenting, in each age, a certain sympathy and correspondence with each other. It will, moreover, be found, that such an inquiry into what I call the history of history, will establish two leading facts of considerable value. The first fact is, that during the last three centuries, historians, taken as a class, have shown a constantly increasing respect for the human intellect, and an aversion for those innumerable contrivances by which it was formerly shackled. The second fact is, that during the same period, they have displayed a growing tendency to neglect matters once deemed of paramount importance, and have been more willing to attend to subjects connected with the condition of the people and the diffusion of knowledge. These two facts will be decisively established in the present Introduction; and it must be admitted, that their existence corroborates the principles which I have propounded. If it can be ascertained, that as society has improved, historical literature has constantly tended in one given direction, there arises a very strong probability in favour of the truth of those views towards which it is manifestly approaching. Indeed, it is a probability of this sort which makes it so important for the student of any particular science to be acquainted with its history; because there is always a fair presumption that when general knowledge is advancing, any single department of it, if studied by competent men, is also advancing, even when the results may have been so small as to seem unworthy of attention. Hence it becomes highly important to observe the way in which, during successive ages, historians have shifted their ground; since we shall find that such changes have in the long-run always pointed to the same quarter, and are, in reality, only part of that vast movement by which the human intellect, with infinite difficulty, has vindicated its own rights, and slowly emancipated itself from those inveterate prejudices which long impeded its action.
With a view to these considerations, it seems advisable that, when examining the different civilizations into which the great countries of Europe have diverged, I should also give an account of the way in which history has been commonly written in each country. In the employment of this resource, I shall be mainly guided by a desire to illustrate the intimate connexion between the actual condition of a people and their opinions respecting the past; and, in order to keep this connexion in sight, I shall treat the state of historical literature, not as a separate subject, but as forming part of the intellectual history of each nation. The present volume will contain a view of the principal characteristics of French civilization until the great Revolution; and with that there will be incorporated an account of the French historians, and of the remarkable improvements they introduced into their own departments of knowledge. The relation which these improvements bore to the state of society from which they proceeded, is very striking, and will be examined at some length; while, in the next volume, the civilization and the historical literature of the other leading countries will be treated in a similar manner. Before, however, entering into these different subjects, it has occurred to me, that a preliminary inquiry into the origin of European history would be interesting, as supplying information respecting matters which are little known, and also as enabling the reader to understand the extreme difficulty with which history has reached its present advanced, but still very imperfect, state. The materials for studying the earliest condition of Europe have long since perished; but the extensive information we now possess concerning barbarous nations will supply us with a useful resource, because they have all much in common; the opinions of extreme ignorance being, indeed, every where the same, except when modified by the differences which nature presents in various countries. I have, therefore, no hesitation in employing the evidence which has been collected by competent travellers, and drawing inferences from it respecting that period of the European mind, of which we have no direct knowledge. Such conclusions will, of course, be speculative; but, during the last thousand years, we are quite independent of them, inasmuch as every great country has had chroniclers of its own since the ninth century, while the French have an uninterrupted series since the sixth century. In the present chapter, I intend to give specimens of the way in which, until the sixteenth century, history was habitually written by the highest European authorities. Its subsequent improvement during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, will be related under the separate heads of the countries where the progress was made; and as history, previous to the improvement, was little else than a tissue of the grossest errors, I will, in the first place, examine the leading causes of its universal corruption, and indicate the steps by which it was so disfigured that, during several centuries, Europe did not possess a single man who had critically studied the past, or who was even able to record with tolerable accuracy the events of his own time.
At a very early period in the progress of a people, and long before they are acquainted with the use of letters, they feel the want of some resource, which in peace may amuse their leisure, and in war may stimulate their courage. This is supplied to them by the invention of ballads; which form the groundwork of all historical knowledge, and which, in one shape or another, are found among some of the rudest tribes of the earth. They are, for the most part, sung by a class of men whose particular business it is thus to preserve the stock of traditions. Indeed, so natural is this curiosity as to past events, that there are few nations to whom these bards or minstrels are unknown. Thus, to select a few instances, it is they who have preserved the popular traditions, not only of Europe,[418] but also of China, Tibet, and Tartary;[419] likewise of India,[420] of Scinde,[421] of Belochistan,[422] of Western Asia,[423] of the islands of the Black Sea,[424] of Egypt,[425] of Western Africa,[426] of North America,[427] of South America,[428] and of the islands in the Pacific.[429]
In all these countries, letters were long unknown; and, as a people in that state have no means of perpetuating their history except by oral tradition, they select the form best calculated to assist their memory; and it will, I believe, be found that the first rudiments of knowledge consist always of poetry, and often of rhyme.[430] The jingle pleases the ear of the barbarian, and affords a security that he will hand it down to his children in the unimpaired state in which he received it.[431] This guarantee against error increases still further the value of these ballads; and instead of being considered as a mere amusement, they rise to the dignity of judicial authorities.[432] The allusions contained in them, are satisfactory proofs to decide the merits of rival families, or even to fix the limits of those rude estates which such a society can possess. We therefore find, that the professed reciters and composers of these songs are the recognized judges in all disputed matters; and as they are often priests, and believed to be inspired, it is probably in this way that the notion of the divine origin of poetry first arose.[433] These ballads will, of course, vary, according to the customs and temperaments of the different nations, and according to the climate to which they are accustomed. In the south they assume a passionate and voluptuous form; in the north they are rather remarkable for their tragic and warlike character.[434] But, notwithstanding these diversities, all such productions have one feature in common. They are not only founded on truth, but making allowance for the colourings of poetry, they are all strictly true. Men who are constantly repeating songs which they constantly hear, and who appeal to the authorized singers of them as final umpires in disputed questions, are not likely to be mistaken on matters, in the accuracy of which they have so lively an interest.[435]
This is the earliest, and most simple, of the various stages through which history is obliged to pass. But, in the course of time, unless unfavourable circumstances intervene, society advances, and, among other changes, there is one in particular of the greatest importance: I mean the introduction of the art of writing, which, before many generations are passed, must effect a complete alteration in the character of the national traditions. The manner in which this occurs has, so far as I am aware, never been pointed out; and it will, therefore, be interesting to attempt to trace some of its details.
The first, and perhaps the most obvious consideration, is that the introduction of the art of writing gives permanence to the national knowledge, and thus lessens the utility of that oral information, in which all the acquirements of an unlettered people must be contained. Hence it is, that as a country advances, the influence of tradition diminishes, and traditions themselves become less trustworthy.[436] Besides this, the preservers of these traditions lose, in this stage of society, much of their former reputation. Among a perfectly unlettered people, the singers of ballads are, as we have already seen, the sole depositories of those historical facts on which the fame, and often the property, of their chieftains principally depend. But, when this same nation becomes acquainted with the art of writing, it grows unwilling to intrust these matters to the memory of itinerant singers, and avails itself of its new art to preserve them in a fixed and material form. As soon as this is effected, the importance of those who repeat the national traditions is sensibly diminished. They gradually sink into an inferior class, which, having lost its old reputation, no longer consists of those superior men to whose abilities it owed its former fame.[437] Thus we see, that although, without letters, there can be no knowledge of much importance, it is nevertheless true, that their introduction is injurious to historical traditions in two distinct ways: first by weakening the traditions, and secondly by weakening the class of men whose occupation it is to preserve them.
But this is not all. Not only does the art of writing lessen the number of traditionary truths, but it directly encourages the propagation of falsehoods. This is effected by what may be termed a principle of accumulation, to which all systems of belief have been deeply indebted. In ancient times, for example, the name of Hercules was given to several of those great public robbers who scourged mankind, and who, if their crimes were successful, as well as enormous, were sure after their death to be worshipped as heroes.[438] How this appellation originated is uncertain; but it was probably bestowed at first on a single man, and afterwards on those who resembled him in the character of their achievements.[439] This mode of extending the use of a single name is natural to a barbarous people;[440] and would cause little or no confusion, as long as the traditions of the country remained local and unconnected. But as soon as these traditions became fixed by a written language, the collectors of them, deceived by the similarity of name, assembled the scattered facts, and, ascribing to a single man these accumulated exploits, degraded history to the level of a miraculous mythology.[441] In the same way, soon after the use of letters was known in the North of Europe, there was drawn up by Saxo Grammaticus the life of the celebrated Ragnar Lodbrok. Either from accident or design, this great warrior of Scandinavia, who had taught England to tremble, had received the same name as another Ragnar, who was prince of Jutland about a hundred years earlier. This coincidence would have caused no confusion, as long as each district preserved a distinct and independent account of its own Ragnar. But, by possessing the resource of writing, men became able to consolidate the separate trains of events, and, as it were, fuse two truths into one error. And this was what actually happened. The credulous Saxo put together the different exploits of both Ragnars, and, ascribing the whole of them to his favourite hero, has involved in obscurity one of the most interesting parts of the early history of Europe.[442]
The annals of the North afford another curious instance of this source of error. A tribe of Finns, called QuÆns, occupied a considerable part of the eastern coast of the Gulf of Bothnia. Their country was known as QuÆnland; and this name gave rise to a belief that, to the north of the Baltic, there was a nation of Amazons. This would easily have been corrected by local knowledge; but, by the use of writing, the flying rumour was at once fixed; and the existence of such a people is positively affirmed in some of the earliest European histories.[443] Thus, too, Abo, the ancient capital of Finland, was called Turku, which, in the Swedish language, means a market-place. Adam of Bremen, having occasion to treat of the countries adjoining the Baltic,[444] was so misled by the word Turku, that this celebrated historian assures his readers that there were Turks in Finland.[445]
To these illustrations many others might be added, showing how mere names deceived the early historians, and gave rise to relations which were entirely false, and might have been rectified on the spot; but which, owing to the art of writing, were carried into distant countries, and thus placed beyond the reach of contradiction. Of such cases, one more may be mentioned, as it concerns the history of England. Richard I., the most barbarous of our princes, was known to his contemporaries as the Lion; an appellation conferred upon him on account of his fearlessness, and the ferocity of his temper.[446] Hence it was said that he had the heart of a lion; and the title Coeur de Lion not only became indissolubly connected with his name, but actually gave rise to a story, repeated by innumerable writers, according to which he slew a lion in single combat.[447] The name gave rise to the story; the story confirmed the name; and another fiction was added to that long series of falsehoods of which history mainly consisted during the Middle Ages.
The corruptions of history, thus naturally brought about by the mere introduction of letters, were, in Europe, aided by an additional cause. With the art of writing, there was, in most cases, also communicated a knowledge of Christianity; and the new religion not only destroyed many of the Pagan traditions, but falsified the remainder, by amalgamating them with monastic legends. The extent to which this was carried would form a curious subject for inquiry; but one or two instances of it will perhaps be sufficient to satisfy the generality of readers.
Of the earliest state of the great Northern nations we have little positive evidence; but several of the lays in which the Scandinavian poets related the feats of their ancestors, or of their contemporaries, are still preserved; and, notwithstanding their subsequent corruption, it is admitted by the most competent judges that they embody real and historical events. But in the ninth and tenth centuries, Christian missionaries found their way across the Baltic, and introduced a knowledge of their religion among the inhabitants of Northern Europe.[448] Scarcely was this effected, when the sources of history began to be poisoned. At the end of the eleventh century, SÆmund Sigfussen, a Christian priest, gathered the popular, and hitherto unwritten, histories of the North into what is called the Elder Edda; and he was satisfied with adding to his compilation the corrective of a Christian hymn.[449] A hundred years later, there was made another collection of the native histories; but the principle which I have mentioned, having had a longer time to operate, now displayed its effects still more clearly. In this second collection, which is known by the name of the Younger Edda, there is an agreeable mixture of Greek, Jewish, and Christian fables; and, for the first time in the Scandinavian annals, we meet with the widely diffused fiction of a Trojan descent.[450]
If, by way of further illustration, we turn to other parts of the world, we shall find a series of facts confirming this view. We shall find that, in those countries where there has been no change of religion, history is more trustworthy and connected than in those countries where such a change has taken place. In India, Brahmanism, which is still supreme, was established at so early a period, that its origin is lost in the remotest antiquity.[451] The consequence is, that the native annals have never been corrupted by any new superstition; and the Hindus are possessed of historic traditions more ancient than can be found among any other Asiatic people.[452] In the same way, the Chinese have for upwards of 2,000 years preserved the religion of Fo, which is a form of Buddhism.[453] In China, therefore, though the civilization has never been equal to that of India, there is a history, not, indeed, as old as the natives would wish us to believe, but still stretching back to several centuries before the Christian era, from whence it has been brought down to our own times in an uninterrupted succession.[454] On the other hand, the Persians, whose intellectual development was certainly superior to that of the Chinese, are nevertheless without any authentic information respecting the early transactions of their ancient monarchy.[455] For this I can see no possible reason, except the fact, that Persia, soon after the promulgation of the Koran, was conquered by the Mohammedans, who completely subverted the Parsee religion, and thus interrupted the stream of the national traditions.[456] Hence it is that, putting aside the myths of the Zendavesta, we have no native authorities for Persian history of any value, until the appearance, in the eleventh century, of the Shah Nameh; in which, however, Ferdousi has mingled the miraculous relations of those two religions by which his country had been successively subjected.[457] The result is, that if it were not for the various discoveries which have been made, of monuments, inscriptions, and coins, we should be compelled to rely on the scanty and inaccurate details in the Greek writers for our knowledge of the history of one of the most important of the Asiatic monarchies.[458]
Even among more barbarous nations, we see the same principle at work. The Malayo-Polynesian race is well known to ethnologists, as covering an immense series of islands, extending from Madagascar to within 2,000 miles of the western coast of America.[459] The religion of these widely scattered people was originally Polytheism, of which the purest forms were long preserved in the Philippine Islands.[460] But in the fifteenth century, many of the Polynesian nations were converted to Mohammedanism;[461] and this was followed by a process precisely the same as that which I have pointed out in other countries. The new religion, by changing the current of the national thoughts, corrupted the purity of the national history. Of all the islands in the Indian Archipelago, Java was the one which reached the highest civilization.[462] Now, however, the Javanese have not only lost their historical traditions, but even those lists of their kings which are extant are interpolated with the names of Mohammedan saints.[463] On the other hand, we find that in the adjacent island of Bali, where the old religion is still preserved,[464] the legends of Java are remembered and cherished by the people.[465]
It would be useless to adduce further evidence respecting the manner in which, among an imperfectly civilized people, the establishment of a new religion will always affect the accuracy of their early history. I need only observe, that in this way the Christian priests have obscured the annals of every European people they converted, and have destroyed or corrupted the traditions of the Gauls,[466] of the Welsh, of the Irish,[467] of the Anglo-Saxons,[468] of the Sclavonic nations,[469] of the Finns,[470] and even of the Icelanders.[471]
Besides all this, there occurred other circumstances tending in the same direction. Owing to events which I shall hereafter explain, the literature of Europe, shortly before the final dissolution of the Roman Empire, fell entirely into the hands of the clergy, who were long venerated as the sole instructors of mankind. For several centuries, it was extremely rare to meet with a layman who could read or write; and of course it was still rarer to meet with one able to compose a work. Literature, being thus monopolized by a single class, assumed the peculiarities natural to its new masters.[472] And as the clergy, taken as a body, have always looked on it as their business to enforce belief, rather than encourage inquiry, it is no wonder if they displayed in their writings the spirit incidental to the habits of their profession. Hence, as I have already observed, literature, during many ages, instead of benefiting society, injured it, by increasing credulity, and thus stopping the progress of knowledge. Indeed, the aptitude for falsehood became so great, that there was nothing men were unwilling to believe. Nothing came amiss to their greedy and credulous ears. Histories of omens, prodigies, apparitions, strange portents, monstrous appearances in the heavens, the wildest and most incoherent absurdities, were repeated from mouth to mouth, and copied from book to book, with as much care as if they were the choicest treasures of human wisdom.[473] That Europe should ever have emerged from such a state, is the most decisive proof of the extraordinary energy of Man, since we cannot even conceive a condition of society more unfavourable to his progress. But it is evident, that until the emancipation was effected, the credulity and looseness of thought which were universal, unfitted men for habits of investigation, and made it impossible for them to engage in a successful study of past affairs, or even record with accuracy what was taking place around them.[474]
If, therefore, we recur to the facts just cited, we may say that, omitting several circumstances altogether subordinate, there were three leading causes of the corruption of the history of Europe in the Middle Ages. The first cause was, the sudden introduction of the art of writing, and the consequent fusion of different local traditions, which, when separate, were accurate, but when united were false. The second cause was, the change of religion; which acted in two ways, producing not merely an interruption of the old traditions, but also an interpolation of them. And the third cause, probably the most powerful of all, was, that history became monopolized by a class of men whose professional habits made them quick to believe, and who, moreover, had a direct interest in increasing the general credulity, since it was the basis upon which their own authority was built.
By the operation of these causes, the history of Europe became corrupted to an extent for which we can find no parallel in any other period. That there was, properly speaking, no history, was the smallest part of the inconvenience; but, unhappily, men, not satisfied with the absence of truth, supplied its place by the invention of falsehood. Among innumerable instances of this, there is one species of inventions worth noticing, because they evince that love of antiquity, which is a marked characteristic of those classes by whom history was then written. I allude to fictions regarding the origin of different nations, in all of which the spirit of the Middle Ages is very discernible. During many centuries, it was believed by every people that they were directly descended from ancestors who had been present at the siege of Troy. That was a proposition which no one thought of doubting.[475] The only question was, as to the details of so illustrious a lineage. On this, however, there was a certain unanimity of opinion; since, not to mention inferior countries, it was admitted that the French were descended from Francus, whom everybody knew to be the son of Hector; and it was also known that the Britons came from Brutus, whose father was no other than Æneas himself.[476]
Touching the origin of particular places, the great historians of the Middle Ages are equally communicative. In the accounts they give of them, as well as in the lives they write of eminent men, the history usually begins at a very remote period; and the events relating to their subject are often traced back, in an unbroken series, from the moment when Noah left the ark, or even when Adam passed the gates of Paradise.[477] On other occasions, the antiquity they assign is somewhat less; but the range of their information is always extraordinary. They say, that the capital of France is called after Paris, the son of Priam, because he fled there when Troy was overthrown.[478] They also mention that Tours owed its name to being the burial-place of Turonus, one of the Trojans;[479] while the city of Troyes was actually built by the Trojans, as its etymology clearly proves.[480] It was well ascertained that Nuremberg was called after the Emperor Nero;[481] and Jerusalem after King Jebus,[482] a man of vast celebrity in the Middle Ages, but whose existence later historians have not been able to verify. The river Humber received its name because, in ancient times, a king of the Huns had been drowned in it.[483] The Gauls derived their origin, according to some, from Galathia, a female descendant of Japhet; according to others, from Gomer, the son of Japhet.[484] Prussia was called after Prussus, a brother of Augustus.[485] This was remarkably modern; but Silesia had its name from the prophet Elisha—from whom, indeed, the Silesians descended;[486] while as to the city of Zurich, its exact date was a matter of dispute, but it was unquestionably built in the time of Abraham.[487] It was likewise from Abraham and Sarah that the gipsies immediately sprung.[488] The blood of the Saracens was less pure, since they were only descended from Sarah—in what way it is not mentioned; but she probably had them by another marriage, or, may be, as the fruit of an Egyptian intrigue.[489] At all events, the Scotch certainly came from Egypt; for they were originally the issue of Scota, who was a daughter of Pharaoh, and who bequeathed to them her name.[490] On sundry similar matters, the Middle Ages possessed information equally valuable. It was well known that the city of Naples was founded on eggs;[491] and it was also known, that the order of St. Michael was instituted in person by the archangel, who was himself the first knight, and to whom, in fact, chivalry owes its origin.[492] In regard to the Tartars, that people, of course, proceeded from Tartarus; which some theologians said was an inferior kind of hell, but others declared to be hell itself.[493] However this might be, the fact of their birth-place being from below was indisputable, and was proved by many circumstances which showed the fatal and mysterious influence they were able to exercise. For the Turks were identical with the Tartars; and it was notorious, that since the Cross had fallen into Turkish hands, all Christian children had ten teeth less than formerly; a universal calamity, which there seemed to be no means of repairing.[494]
Other points relating to the history of past events were cleared up with equal facility. In Europe during many centuries, the only animal food in general use was pork; beef, veal, and mutton, being comparatively unknown.[495] It was, therefore, with no small astonishment that the crusaders, on returning from the East, told their countrymen that they had been among a people who, like the Jews, thought pork unclean, and refused to eat it. But the feelings of lively wonder which this intelligence excited, were destroyed as soon as the cause of the fact was explained. The subject was taken up by Mathew Paris, the most eminent historian during the thirteenth century, and one of the most eminent during the Middle Ages.[496] This celebrated writer informs us, that the Mohammedans refuse to eat pork on account of a singular circumstance which happened to their prophet. It appears that Mohammed, having, on one occasion, gorged himself with food and drink till he was in a state of insensibility, fell asleep on a dunghill, and, in this disgraceful condition, was seen by a litter of pigs. The pigs attacked the fallen prophet, and suffocated him to death; for which reason his followers abominate pigs, and refuse to partake of their flesh.[497] This striking fact explains one great peculiarity of the Mohammedans;[498] and another fact, equally striking, explains how it was that their sect came into existence. For it was well known, that Mohammed was originally a cardinal, and only became a heretic because he failed in his design of being elected pope.[499]
In regard to the early history of Christianity, the great writers of the Middle Ages were particularly inquisitive; and they preserved the memory of events, of which otherwise we should have been entirely ignorant. After Froissart, the most celebrated historian of the fourteenth century, was certainly Mathew of Westminster, with whose name, at least, most readers are familiar. This eminent man directed his attention, among other matters, to the history of Judas, in order to discover the circumstances under which the character of that arch-apostate was formed. His researches seem to have been very extensive; but their principal results were, that Judas, when an infant, was deserted by his parents, and exposed on an island called Scarioth, from whence he received the name of Judas Iscariot. To this the historian adds, that after Judas grew up, he, among other enormities, slew his own father, and then married his own mother.[500] The same writer, in another part of his history, mentions a fact interesting to those who study the antiquities of the Holy See. Some questions had been raised as to the propriety of kissing the pope's toe, and even theologians had their doubts touching so singular a ceremony. But this difficulty also was set at rest by Mathew of Westminster, who explains the true origin of the custom. He says, that formerly it was usual to kiss the hand of his holiness; but that towards the end of the eighth century, a certain lewd woman, in making an offering to the pope, not only kissed his hand, but also pressed it. The pope—his name was Leo—seeing the danger, cut off his hand, and thus escaped the contamination to which he had been exposed. Since that time, the precaution has been taken of kissing the pope's toe instead of his hand; and lest any one should doubt the accuracy of this account, the historian assures us that the hand, which had been cut off five or six hundred years before, still existed in Rome, and was indeed a standing miracle, since it was preserved in the Lateran in its original state, free from corruption.[501] And as some readers might wish to be informed respecting the Lateran itself, where the hand was kept, this also is considered by the historian, in another part of his great work, where he traces it back to the emperor Nero. For it is said that this wicked persecutor of the faith, on one occasion, vomited a frog covered with blood, which he believed to be his own progeny, and therefore caused to be shut up in a vault, where it remained hidden for some time. Now, in the Latin language, latente means hidden, and rana means a frog; so that, by putting these two words together, we have the origin of the Lateran, which, in fact, was built where the frog was found.[502]
It would be easy to fill volumes with similar notions, all of which were devoutly believed in those ages of darkness, or, as they have been well called, Ages of Faith. Those, indeed, were golden days for the ecclesiastical profession, since the credulity of men had reached a height which seemed to ensure to the clergy a long and universal dominion. How the prospects of the church were subsequently darkened, and how the human reason began to rebel, will be related in another part of this Introduction, where I shall endeavour to trace the rise of that secular and sceptical spirit to which European civilization owes its origin. But, before closing the present chapter, it may be well to give a few more illustrations of the opinions held in the Middle Ages; and, for this purpose, I will select the two historical accounts, which, of all others, were the most popular, exercised most influence, and were most universally believed.
The histories to which I refer, are those of Arthur and Charlemagne; both of which bear the names of dignitaries of the church, and were received with the respect due to their illustrious authors. That concerning Charlemagne is called the Chronicle of Turpin, and purports to be written by Turpin, archbishop of Rheims, a friend of the emperor and his companion in war.[503] From some passages it contains, there is reason to think that it was really composed at the beginning of the twelfth century;[504] but, in the Middle Ages, men were not nice in these matters, and no one was likely to dispute its authenticity. Indeed, the name of an archbishop of Rheims was sufficient recommendation; and we find accordingly, that in the year 1122 it received the formal approbation of the pope;[505] and that Vincent de Beauvais, one of the most celebrated writers in the thirteenth century, and tutor to the sons of Louis IX., mentions it as a work of value, and as being the principal authority for the reign of Charlemagne.[506]
A book thus generally read, and sanctioned by such competent judges, must be a tolerable standard for testing the knowledge and opinions of those times. On this account, a short notice of it will be useful for our present purpose, as it will enable us to understand the extreme slowness with which history has improved, and the almost imperceptible steps by which it advanced, until fresh life was breathed into it by the great thinkers of the eighteenth century.
In the Chronicle of Turpin, we are informed that the invasion of Spain by Charlemagne took place in consequence of the direct instigation of St. James, the brother of St. John.[507] The apostle, being the cause of the attack, adopted measures to secure its success. When Charlemagne besieged Pamplona, that city made an obstinate resistance; but as soon as prayers were offered up by the invaders, the walls suddenly fell to the ground.[508] After this, the emperor rapidly overran the whole country, almost annihilated the Mohammedans, and built innumerable churches.[509] But, the resources of Satan are inexhaustible. On the side of the enemy, a giant now appeared, whose name was Fenacute, and who was descended from Goliath of old.[510] This Fenacute was the most formidable opponent the Christians had yet encountered. His strength was equal to that of forty men;[511] his face measured one cubit; his arms and legs four cubits; his total height was twenty cubits. Against him Charlemagne sent the most eminent warriors; but they were easily discomfited by the giant; of whose prodigious force some idea may be formed from the fact, that the length even of his fingers was three palms.[512] The Christians were filled with consternation. In vain did more than twenty chosen men advance against the giant; not one returned from the field; Fenacute took them all under his arms, and carried them off into captivity.[513] At length the celebrated Orlando came forward, and challenged him to mortal combat. An obstinate fight ensued; and the Christian, not meeting with the success he expected, engaged his adversary in a theological discussion.[514] Here the pagan was easily defeated; and Orlando, warmed by the controversy, pressed on his enemy, smote the giant with his sword, and dealt him a fatal wound. After this, the last hope of the Mohammedans was extinct; the Christian arms had finally triumphed, and Charlemagne divided Spain among those gallant followers who had aided him in effecting its conquest.[515]
On the history of Arthur, the Middle Ages possessed information equally authentic. Different accounts had been circulated respecting this celebrated king;[516] but their comparative value was still unsettled, when, early in the twelfth century, the subject attracted the attention of Geoffrey, the well-known Archdeacon of Monmouth. This eminent man, in a.d. 1147, published the result of his inquiries, in a work which he called History of the Britons.[517] In this book, he takes a comprehensive view of the whole question; and not only relates the life of Arthur, but also traces the circumstances which prepared the way for the appearance of that great conqueror. In regard to the actions of Arthur, the historian was singularly fortunate, inasmuch as the materials necessary for that part of his subject were collected by Walter Archdeacon of Oxford, who was a friend of Geoffrey, and who, like him, took great interest in the study of history.[518] The work is, therefore, the joint composition of the two archdeacons; and is entitled to respect, not only on this account, but also because it was one of the most popular of all the productions of the Middle Ages.
The earlier part of this great history is occupied with the result of those researches which the Archdeacon of Monmouth had made into the state of Britain before the accession of Arthur. With this we are not so much concerned; though it may be mentioned, that the archdeacon ascertained that, after the capture of Troy, Ascanius fled from the city, and begat a son, who became father to Brutus.[519] In those days, England was peopled by giants, all of whom were slain by Brutus; who, having extirpated the entire race, built London, settled the affairs of the country, and called it, after himself, by the name of Britain.[520] The archdeacon proceeds to relate the actions of a long line of kings who succeeded Brutus, most of whom were remarkable for their abilities, and some were famous for the prodigies which occurred in their time. Thus, during the government of Rivallo, it rained blood for three consecutive days;[521] and when Morvidus was on the throne, the coasts were infested by a horrid sea-monster, which, having devoured innumerable persons, at length swallowed the king himself.[522]
These and similar matters are related by the Archdeacon of Monmouth as the fruit of his own inquiries; but in the subsequent account of Arthur, he was aided by his friend the Archdeacon of Oxford. The two archdeacons inform their readers, that King Arthur owed his existence to a magical contrivance of Merlin, the celebrated wizard; the particulars of which they relate with a minuteness which, considering the sacred character of the historians, is rather remarkable.[523] The subsequent actions of Arthur did not belie his supernatural origin. His might nothing was able to withstand. He slew an immense number of Saxons; he overran Norway, invaded Gaul, fixed his court at Paris, and made preparations to effect the conquest of all Europe.[524] He engaged two giants in single combat, and killed them both. One of these giants, who inhabited the Mount of St. Michael, was the terror of the whole country, and destroyed all the soldiers sent against him, except those he took prisoners, in order to eat them while they were yet alive.[525] But he fell a victim to the prowess of Arthur; as also did another giant, named Ritho, who was, if possible, still more formidable. For Ritho, not content with warring on men of the meaner sort, actually clothed himself in furs which were entirely made of the beards of the kings he had killed.[526]
Such were the statements which, under the name of history, were laid before the world in the twelfth century; and that, too, not by obscure writers, but by high dignitaries of the church. Nor was anything wanting by which the success of the work might be ensured. Its vouchers were the Archdeacon of Monmouth, and the Archdeacon of Oxford; it was dedicated to Robert Earl of Gloucester, the son of Henry I.; and it was considered so important a contribution to the national literature, that its principal author was raised to the bishopric of Asaph,—a preferment which he is said to owe to his success in investigating the annals of English history.[527] A book thus stamped with every possible mark of approbation, is surely no bad measure of the age in which it was admired. Indeed, the feeling was so universal, that, during several centuries, there are not more than two or three instances of any critic suspecting its accuracy.[528] A Latin abridgment of it was published by the well-known historian, Alfred of Beverley;[529] and, in order that it might be more generally known, it was translated into English by Layamon,[530] and into Anglo-Norman, first by Gaimar, and afterwards by Wace;[531] zealous men, who were anxious that the important truths it contained should be diffused as widely as circumstances would allow.
It will hardly be necessary that I should adduce further evidence of the way in which history was written during the Middle Ages; for the preceding specimens have not been taken at random, but have been selected from the ablest and most celebrated authors; and as such present a very favourable type of the knowledge and judgment of Europe in those days. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, there appeared, for the first time, faint signs of an approaching change;[532] but this improvement was not very marked until late in the sixteenth century, or even early in the seventeenth. The principal steps of this interesting movement will be traced in another part of the Introduction, when I shall show, that although in the seventeenth century the progress was unmistakable, there was no attempt to take a comprehensive view of history until nearly the middle of the eighteenth century; when the subject was studied, first by the great French thinkers, then by one or two of the Scotch, and, some years later, by the Germans. This reformation of history was connected, as I shall point out, with other intellectual changes, which corresponded to it, and which affected the social relations of all the principal countries of Europe. But, without anticipating what will be found in another part of this volume, it is sufficient to say, that not only was no history written before the end of the sixteenth century, but that the state of society was such as to make it impossible for one to be written. The knowledge of Europe was not yet ripe enough to enable it to be successfully applied to the study of past events. For we are not to suppose that the deficiencies of the early historians were caused by a lack of natural abilities. The average intellect of men is probably always the same; but the pressure exercised on them by society is constantly varying. It was, therefore, the general condition of society, which, in former days, compelled even the ablest writers to believe the most childish absurdities. Until that condition was altered, the existence of history was impossible, because it was impossible to find any one who knew what was most important to relate, what to reject, and what to believe.
The consequence was, that even when history was studied by men of such eminent abilities as Macchiavelli and Bodin, they could turn it to no better account than to use it as a vehicle for political speculations; and in none of their works do we find the least attempt to rise to generalizations large enough to include all the social phenomena. The same remark applies to Comines, who, though inferior to Macchiavelli and Bodin, was an observer of no ordinary acuteness, and certainly displays a rare sagacity in his estimation of particular characters. But this was due to his own intellect; while the age in which he lived made him superstitious, and, for the larger purposes of history, miserably shortsighted. His shortsightedness is strikingly shown in his utter ignorance of that great intellectual movement, which, in his own time, was rapidly overthrowing the feudal institutions of the Middle Ages; but to which he never once alludes, reserving his attention for those trivial political intrigues in the relation of which he believed history to consist.[533] As to his superstition, it would be idle to give many instances of that; since no man could live in the fifteenth century without having his mind enfeebled by the universal credulity. It may, however, be observed, that though he was personally acquainted with statesmen and diplomatists, and had, therefore, the fullest opportunity of seeing how enterprises of the fairest promise are constantly ruined, merely by the incapacity of those who undertake them, he, on all important occasions, ascribes such failure, not to the real cause, but to the immediate interference of the Deity. So marked, and so irresistible, was the tendency of the fifteenth century, that this eminent politician, a man of the world, and well skilled in the arts of life, deliberately asserts that battles are lost, not because the army is ill supplied, nor because the campaign is ill conceived, nor because the general is incompetent; but because the people or their prince are wicked, and Providence seeks to punish them. For, says Comines, war is a great mystery; and being used by God as the means of accomplishing his wishes, He gives victory, sometimes to one side, sometimes to the other.[534] Hence, too, disturbances occur in the state, solely by divine disposition; and they never would happen, except that princes or kingdoms, having become prosperous, forget the source from which their prosperity proceeded.[535]
Such attempts as these, to make politics a mere branch of theology,[536] are characteristic of the time; and they are the more interesting, as the work of a man of great ability, and of one, too, who had grown old in the experience of public life. When views of this sort were advocated, not by a monk in his cloister, but by a distinguished statesman, well versed in public affairs, we may easily imagine what was the average intellectual condition of those who were every way his inferiors. It is but too evident, that from them nothing could be expected; and that many steps had yet to be taken, before Europe could emerge from the superstition in which it was sunk, and break through those grievous impediments which hindered its future progress.
But, though much remained to be done, there can be no doubt that the movement onward was uninterrupted, and that, even while Comines was writing, there were unequivocal symptoms of a great and decisive change. Still, they were only indications of what was approaching; and about a hundred years elapsed, after his death, before the progress was apparent in the whole of its results. For, though the Protestant Reformation was a consequence of this progress, it was for some time unfavourable to it, by encouraging the ablest men in the discussion of questions inaccessible to human reason, and thus diverting them from subjects in which their efforts would have been available for the general purposes of civilization. Hence we find, that little was really accomplished until the end of the sixteenth century, when, as we shall see in the next two chapters, the theological fervour began to subside in England and France, and the way was prepared for that purely secular philosophy, of which Bacon and Descartes were the exponents, but by no means the creators.[537] This epoch belongs to the seventeenth century, and from it we may date the intellectual regeneration of Europe; just as from the eighteenth century we may date its social regeneration. But during the greater part of the sixteenth century, the credulity was still universal, since it affected not merely the lowest and most ignorant classes, but even those who were best educated. Of this innumerable proofs might be given; though, for the sake of brevity, I will confine myself to two instances, which are particularly striking, from the circumstances attending them, and from the influence they exercised over men who might be supposed little liable to similar delusions.
At the end of the fifteenth, and early in the sixteenth century, Stoeffler, the celebrated astronomer, was professor of mathematics at TÜbingen. This eminent man rendered great services to astronomy, and was one of the first who pointed out the way of remedying the errors in the Julian calendar, according to which time was then computed.[538] But neither his abilities nor his knowledge could protect him against the spirit of his age. In 1524, he published the result of some abstruse calculations, in which he had been long engaged, and by which he had ascertained the remarkable fact, that in that same year the world would again be destroyed by a deluge. This announcement, made by a man of such eminence, and made, too, with the utmost confidence, caused a lively and universal alarm.[539] News of the approaching event was rapidly circulated, and Europe was filled with consternation. To avoid the first shock, those who had houses by the sea, or on rivers, abandoned them;[540] while others, perceiving that such measures could only be temporary, adopted more active precautions. It was suggested that, as a preliminary step, the Emperor Charles V. should appoint inspectors to survey the country, and mark those places which, being least exposed to the coming flood, would be most likely to afford a shelter. That this should be done, was the wish of the imperial general, who was then stationed at Florence, and by whose desire a work was written recommending it.[541] But the minds of men were too distracted for so deliberate a plan; and besides, as the height of the flood was uncertain, it was impossible to say whether it would not reach the top of the most elevated mountains. In the midst of these and similar schemes, the fatal day drew near, and nothing had yet been contrived on a scale large enough to meet the evil. To enumerate the different proposals which were made and rejected, would fill a long chapter. One proposal is, however, worth noticing, because it was carried into effect with great zeal, and is, moreover, very characteristic of the age. An ecclesiastic of the name of Auriol, who was then professor of canon law at the University of Toulouse, revolved in his own mind various expedients by which this universal disaster might be mitigated. At length it occurred to him that it was practicable to imitate the course which, on a similar emergency, Noah had adopted with eminent success. Scarcely was the idea conceived, when it was put into execution. The inhabitants of Toulouse lent their aid; and an ark was built, in the hope that some part, at least, of the human species might be preserved, to continue their race, and repeople the earth, after the waters should have subsided, and the land again become dry.[542]
About seventy years after this alarm had passed away, there happened another circumstance, which for a time afforded occupation to the most celebrated men in one of the principal countries of Europe. At the end of the sixteenth century, terrible excitement was caused by a report that a golden tooth had appeared in the jaw of a child born in Silesia. The rumour, on being investigated, turned out to be too true. It became impossible to conceal it from the public; and the miracle was soon known all over Germany, where, being looked on as a mysterious omen, universal anxiety was felt as to what this new thing might mean. Its real import was first unfolded by Dr. Horst. In 1595, this eminent physician published the result of his researches, by which it appears that, at the birth of the child, the sun was in conjunction with Saturn, at the sign Aries. The event, therefore, though supernatural, was by no means alarming. The golden tooth was the precursor of a golden age, in which the emperor would drive the Turks from Christendom, and lay the foundations of an empire that would last for thousands of years. And this, says Horst, is clearly alluded to by Daniel, in his well-known second chapter, where the prophet speaks of a statue with a golden head.[543]
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