CHAPTER V.

THE TOWN.

Cities and towns are the grand theatres of civilisation. Its elements, it is true, have their place and their influence amidst rural scenes, but they commonly appear there as the reflection of what obtains in city life. It is of great importance, then, to take a view of the social condition of the towns and cities of Europe at that period, in order to estimate aright the character of European civilisation.

The era of the general enfranchisement of boroughs, when the elements of modern civilisation came into vigorous play, is coincident with the close of the period over which the present survey extends--it marks the eleventh and twelfth centuries; and, therefore, the state of towns previous to that grand civic awakening, is what chiefly demands attention in the present chapter.

SECTION I.

ROMAN MUNICIPALITIES.

The remains of the Roman municipalities obviously present themselves, as forming the first division. Rome herself stands at the head of these. "We find a considerable obscurity spread over the internal history of Rome, during the long period from the recovery of Italy by Belisarius, to the end of the eleventh century. The popes appear to have possessed some measure of temporal power, even while the city was professedly governed by the exarchs of Ravenna, in the name of the eastern empire. This power became more extensive after her separation from Constantinople. It was, however, subordinate to the undeniable sovereignty of the new imperial family, who were supposed to enter upon all the rights of their predecessors. There was always an imperial officer, or prefect, in that city, to render criminal justice; an oath of allegiance to the emperor was taken by the people; and upon an irregular election of a pope, a circumstance by no means unusual, the emperors held themselves entitled to interpose. But the spirit, and even the institutions of Rome were republican. Amidst the darkness of the tenth century, which no contemporary historian dissipates, we faintly distinguish the awful names of senate, consuls, and tribunes, the domestic magistracy of Rome. These shadows of past glory strike us at first with surprise; but there is no improbability in the supposition that a city so renowned and populous, and so happily sheltered from the usurpation of the Lombards, might have preserved, or might afterwards establish a kind of municipal government which it would be natural to dignify with those august titles of antiquity."[1] There can be no doubt that through the whole period of the dark ages a lingering attachment was felt by the citizens of Rome to their ancient institutions--an attachment which local traditions of bygone glory, historical associations connected with the very soil on which they trod, and the mutilated yet magnificent remains of the ancient structures which graced the forum, could not but keep alive.

Some considerable degree of architectural splendour must have distinguished the papal city, at least from the time of Charlemagne. It is described by Eginhard, in a letter to Alcuin, the emperor's friend, as surrounded by walls, defended by three hundred and eighty-seven towers, and as presenting a very imposing appearance from the lofty castles erected by the nobles upon the hills, and along the Tiber. He especially dwells upon the ecclesiastical structures which adorned the city, consisting of colleges, monasteries, and churches; the latter of which, according to his account, were enriched with a variety of most costly ornaments, which must have made a very glittering and attractive show to the citizens and the pilgrims who frequented the various shrines. The architecture of the period was of the Roman kind, and the churches were formed upon the model of the ancient basilicas, or courts of justice. They were generally in the shape of a parallelogram, with aisles formed by rows of columns, and a choir enclosed by rails; the upper end of the building being in a circular form, in which was fixed the bishop's throne. Pillars and marbles, the spoils of the ancient city, contributed to increase the magnificence of these structures, which also contained sacred vessels and other articles of gold, silver, and precious stones. The palace of the Lateran, and other edifices, were of considerable magnificence, and reflected, though, perhaps, but dimly, some of the splendour and luxury of imperial times. The arts never perished in Italy. Architecture, sculpture, painting, and music always found some patronage in Rome, as the handmaids of her religious worship; though the taste and genius which they displayed were very low.

The habits of the upper classes in the city, and especially of the papal court, towards the latter part of the period we embrace, were doubtless as expensive and luxurious as prevailed in any part of Europe at that time, perhaps more so; but still we must not form our notions of them from the standard of luxury in the present day. At a time when the manufacture of linen had made but little progress, and articles of that material for clothing and for domestic use were little known; when monarchs were content to lie on beds of litter; when eating with forks was thought to be a species of most ridiculous refinement, and a comb of ivory, or bone, was deemed a rare and curious instrument--all of which was the case in the twelfth century--habits then esteemed luxurious must have been rude in comparison with those which now prevail.

The lower orders of Rome were, throughout the dark ages, in a state of deep social degradation, and must have experienced a very great degree of misery; for a sad catalogue of oppressions, tumults, outrages, robberies, and diseases, mark the history of the city for many centuries. The morals of all classes were most depraved; the nobles and highest ecclesiastics were generally corrupt and licentious; the character of many of the popes was vile in the extreme; and moral influences were shed over the population, by the men who called themselves the heads of the church, more pernicious than the deadly malaria that rose from the marshes round the city.

It has been already remarked, that in the Roman empire, at the time of its decline and fall, there were a number of cities formed upon the model of the parent municipality. When the Gothic nations passed the frontiers of the empire, and poured down upon these provinces, they swept over these cities, levelling their walls, plundering their treasures, and materially reducing their importance. They also diffused around them their own wild barbarian sentiments, infusing new elements of thought and feeling into the minds of men; but still the municipalities remained, for the most part, Roman in their form and spirit. The ancient magistrates gave place to new kinds of officers, such as dukes and counts, introduced by the conquerors; yet, in the documents of the middle ages, numerous instances may be found in which there is an evident regard for the official titles which belonged to the days of the empire.[2] Convocations of the senate, meetings of the curiæ, or Roman courts, for the administration of justice, and the laws of the imperial code, still obtained in the ancient towns; and the citizens of Metz, Cologne, and Treves, in the time of Charlemagne, proudly retained the remembrance, and carefully preserved the traces, of their Roman origin. The architecture of their churches and public buildings was on the Roman plan, and probably whatever branches of art remained beside, chiefly connected as they were with their religious worship, were cultivated according to the taste which prevailed in the mother city of Christendom.

The history of Roman towns, from the fifth to the tenth century, is, in general, a history of decline. They were wasted by war, and by the oppression of imperious lords. Their commercial spirit subsided, their resources diminished, and by the end of the time just mentioned they had reached their lowest point--the very nadir of civilisation. The Lombardic cities, however, did not suffer so much as the other municipalities in the empire. The barbarian influence there was not so strong, and they retained some wealth, commerce, and activity throughout the dark ages.

[1] Hallam, Middle Ages, chap. iii. p. 1.

[2] Muratori gives several instances, Antiquitates, etc., Diss 18.

SECTION II.

RISE OF MODERN ITALIAN CITIES.

In the tenth century cities began to revive. Those in Lombardy, even in the ninth century, showed signs of returning prosperity. They rebuilt their walls, purchased or manufactured arms, addicted themselves more to commercial industry, and acquired some wealth; and, as a natural consequence of this, they felt the desirableness of self-government and self-defence. About the same time, the political institutions of the towns of Lombardy underwent a change. The bishops, in many instances, became counts or temporal governors of their sees. The citizens elected their own magistrates, subject to the approval of the bishops; the emperor--though not always without the consent of the people--appointing them to their sees, in consequence of the introduction of the feudal principle into the church, the prelates having become temporal lords and feudatories of the empire. The emperors also appointed commissioners or vicars for these towns, who there represented the imperial authority. The episcopal government in cities seems to have been favourable to the growing independence of the towns, the churchman, even if disposed, being by no means able to become so formidable an oppressor as the soldier, while the consent, at least, of the people, on his appointment, kept up a notion of their municipal importance. During, and after the war of investitures, when the cities of Italy took part in the quarrel between the emperor and the pope, some arraying themselves on one side and some on another, they received an impulse which quickened their desire for independence.

A considerable mist rests over the morning of Italian liberty. The history of the rise of her republican cities is extremely obscure. They seem to have silently grown up, and to have gradually appropriated to themselves the prerogatives of sovereignty. We discern an increasing spirit of activity and independence among the people--the assembling of the citizens, at the sound of the great bell, in the square, or market-place, of the town, for consultation--their election of consuls, who had the charge of justice at home, and of war abroad--and the organization of militias for self-defence. In the eleventh century "the militia of every city was divided into separate bodies, according to local partitions, each led by a gonfaloniere, or standard-bearer. They fought on foot, and assembled round the _carroccio_, a heavy car drawn by oxen, and covered with the flags and armorial bearings of the city. A high pole rose in the middle of the car, bearing the colours and a Christ, which seemed to bless the army, with both arms extended. A priest said daily mass at an altar placed in front of the car. The trumpeters of the community, seated on the back part, sounded the charge and the retreat. It was Heribert, archbishop of Milan, contemporary of Conrad, the Salic, who invented this car in imitation of the ark of alliance, and caused it to be adopted at Milan. All the free cities of Italy followed the example: this sacred car intrusted to the guardianship of the militia gave them weight and confidence." "It was from A.D. 900 to A.D. 1200, that the most prodigious works were undertaken and accomplished by the towns of Italy. They began by surrounding themselves with thick walls, ditches, towers, and counter-guards at the gates--immense works which a patriotism ready for every sacrifice could alone accomplish. The maritime towns, at the same time, constructed their ports, quays, canals, and custom-houses, which served also as vast magazines for commerce. Every city built public palaces for the _signora_, or municipal magistrates, and prisons, and constructed also temples, which, to this day, fill us with admiration by their grandeur and magnificence. These three regenerating centuries gave an impulse to architecture, which soon awakened the other fine arts."[1] Yet it must not be supposed that these renovated cities, in the early stages of their modern history, presented an unmingled scene of social advancement, prosperity, and happiness. Very far from it. In their struggles with the emperor of Germany for the establishment of their liberties, they endured sieges and sufferings the most heartrending; nor were they free from dissensions among themselves, and from acts of infamous oppression perpetrated by the strong upon the weak. While a city was fighting for its own liberties, it often invaded the rights of its neighbours; an implacable spirit strongly marked the private habits of the citizens; sufficient security for human life was not provided, the moral condition of the mass of the people was degraded; peace was made the prey of faction, and, in too many cases, the blossoms of freedom, which might have set into precious fruit, "went up as dust."

There were some Italian cities, especially Amalfi and Venice, which, in consequence of their dependence on the eastern emperors, their relations and intercourse with Constantinople, and their commercial activity, differed in their social condition from the cities of Lombardy. They were decidedly in advance of their neighbours--civilisation there made more rapid strides and reflected some tinge of orientalism. Amalfi shines with conspicuous lustre from the sixth to the twelfth century, when its glory was extinguished by the Norman king of the Sicilies. There can be no doubt that its commercial intercourse with Constantinople, where eastern luxury prevailed, in the middle ages, and the trade which it carried on with the Saracens, who were the chief cultivators of the arts and sciences during that period, tended to raise the city of Amalfi, as it relates to artistic civilisation, to a proud position. Some additional refinement might probably be imparted to it, by its close vicinity to Salerno, which was only seven miles distant, where learning was cultivated, and a school of medicine established--the first of the kind in Europe.

But the lustre of Amalfi is eclipsed by that of Venice, which, if at an earlier period she were inferior, at a later period vastly surpassed her rival in commercial greatness. Formed by bands of refugees who fled from the sword of Alaric and Attila to the lagoons, which spread at the extremity of the Adriatic gulf, this city of the waters rose till she became the ocean queen. For a hundred years, Venice consisted only of some scattered fishers' huts, like the nests of aquatic fowls, on the shifting sands, protected by slender fences of twisted osiers.[2] The population was supported by fishing, the making of salt, and some other humble manufactures; and probably the insignificance of the infant republic preserved her from the attacks of enemies, and from the oppression of the eastern emperors, to whom she owed subjection. Her earliest form of government was essentially democratic, for tribunes elected by the people ruled her affairs; but owing to the factions and jealousies which arose among them it was resolved, at the close of the seventh century, that one chief magistrate, called a doge, should be elected by the people, who should be invested with sovereign authority, and should choose inferior officers. Many were the civil commotions of Venice under this form of government; and out of about forty of her citizens who successively wore the ducal bonnet, nearly half were killed, deprived of sight, or banished. Yet, withal, Venice went on growing in importance, wealth, and power, and as we look upon her history, a sort of magical effect is produced, somewhat like a dissolving view. The huts on her lagoon became palaces; her humble boats, splendid argosies; her fishermen, princes; and her traffickers the honourable of the earth.

"And whence the talisman whereby she rose Towering? It was found there in the barren sea. Want led to enterprise; and far or near Who met not the Venetian?"

In the tenth and eleventh centuries, Venice presented the picture of a rich and prosperous commercial city, though still far inferior to what she afterwards became. She could boast, even a century earlier, of the commencement of the famous church of St. Mark, with its five hundred columns of marble,--an edifice, built on the Byzantine model of architecture, and showing the influence of eastern example upon the opening taste of the Venetian people. Saracenic luxuries and arts also began to flow into Venice, and before the close of the period under review, she sent forth her fleets, which returned to the lagoons, after anchoring in the port of the Egyptian Caliph; and the Arabian maiden wove the rich sandal of silk and gold which arrayed her priests, when they prayed before the altar.[3] There might then be seen the brides of Venice with ostrich plumes, and "veils transparent as the gossamer, and jewelled chains in many a winding wreath, wreathing a gold brocade;" and her youthful sons "walking with modest dignity, folding their scarlet mantle," and her doge, gliding in a stately barge of gold, through the canals, while

"Old and young Throng'd her three hundred bridges: the grave Turk Turban'd, long vested; and the cozening Jew, In yellow hat and threadbare gaberdine, Hurrying along."[4]

Arms, silks, furs, fine linen, and other luxuries from the east, formed the staple commodities of the Venetian markets, and were supplied by her merchants to other parts of Italy. Indeed, almost all the commerce of Europe was carried on through the medium of Venice and Amalfi. But it should not be forgotten, that the amount of traffic there, at that period, compared with the commerce of modern times, must have been very limited, as neither these cities, nor any others in Europe, had any manufactures which they could exchange for the commodities of the east; and they were, therefore, limited to the export of their gold and silver in payment for their purchases. There was, indeed, another kind of traffic which these Venetians pursued, and it is, observes Hallam, "a humiliating proof of the degradation of Christendom, that they were reduced to purchase the luxuries of Asia, by supplying the slave-market of the Saracens. Their apology would, perhaps, have been that these were purchased of their heathen neighbours; but a slave-dealer was, probably, not very inquisitive as to the faith or origin of his victim." This abominable trade in human flesh and blood, must then, as ever, have brought a number of vices in its train, tending greatly to demoralize the Venetian merchants, so that, at an early period, the language of Scripture, in reference to Tyre, was applicable to Venice: "By the multitude of thy merchandise they have filled the midst of thee with violence, and thou hast sinned."

[1] Italian Rep. 22.

[2] Cassiodorus.

[3] Quarterly Review, vol. xxv. p. 144.

[4] Rogers' Italy. The poet thus describes the Costumes and luxury of the Venetians, in his beautiful tale of "The Brides of Venice," which belongs to the tenth century: perhaps the description more correctly applies to a somewhat later period.

SECTION III.

CITIES OF GERMANY AND THE NETHERLANDS.

But we must leave the Italian towns to look at the cities which sprang up in the northern parts of Europe. The Lombardic cities were Roman municipalities, keeping up a struggle for existence after the fall of the empire, and Venice and Amalfi were communities, which sprung up immediately upon that fall, imbibing some elements of Roman civilisation, intermingled with others of an oriental cast, derived from their dependence on the eastern emperors and their subsequent intercourse with the Saracens; but the cities to which attention is now to be directed, had their origin in feudal times; they arose amidst that state of disorder into which society was plunged by the inroads of the northern barbarians; they exhibited new developments of social life and manners; they derived their spirit of independence from the Gothic races who founded them; their progress was a struggle with their feudal lords, and their final establishment and prosperity secured the overthrow of the feudal system. The former were in a great measure but the reflection of ancient civilisation, the latter were the infant, but vigorous forms of modern civilisation. There we see the Roman city, here the German borough. The ancient Germans, according to Tacitus, had no cities. The people lived a wandering life, and when they settled anywhere for a time, they erected for themselves rude, detached, and scattered dwellings.[1] Long after the invasion of the south of Europe the Gothic tribes retained their uncitizenlike habits. "Till the reign of Charlemagne," observes Hallam, "there were no towns in Germany, except a few that had been erected on the Rhine and Danube by the Romans. A house with its stables and farm buildings, surrounded by a hedge, or inclosure, was called a court, or, as we find it in our law books, a curtilage--the toft, or homestead, of a more genuine English dialect. One of these, with the adjacent domain of arable fields and woods, had the name of a villa, or manse. Several manses composed a march, and several marches formed a pagus, or district. From these elements in the progress of population arose villages and towns." The character of these tofts, or homesteads, is well illustrated by a passage from Dr. Whitaker's History of Craven:--"A toft is a homestead in a village, so called from the small tufts of maple, elm, ash, and other wood, with which dwelling-houses were anciently overhung. Even now it is impossible to enter Craven without being struck with the isolated homesteads, surrounded by their little garths, and overhung with tufts of trees. These are the genuine tofts and crofts of our ancestors, with the substitution only of stone to the wooden crocks and thatched roofs of antiquity." The little towns which thus sprung up were subject of course to the feudal lord in whose domain they were situate; but, probably, the condition of their inhabitants was preferable to that of his dependents, who lived in the open country. Some small amount of manufacture and trade would necessarily arise in these infant communities, all of which doubtless had their weavers, smiths, and curriers, for the supply of garments and implements of husbandry to the rural labourers in the vicinity.[2]

Germs of civic communities also appeared, in many instances, under the immediate shadow of the feudal castle. Groups of serfs who tilled the neighbouring fields, and some few artisans who manufactured necessary articles for the household, gathered round the baronial abode, and formed a little village, out of which, in process of time, there arose a town of some importance. In a similar way, villages sprang up in the vicinity of convents; and no doubt, as Guizot has remarked, the progress of towns was considerably promoted by the right of sanctuary in churches. "Even before the boroughs were constituted, and before their force and ramparts enabled them to hold out an asylum to the wretched population of the fields, the protection which could be found in the church alone was sufficient to attract a great many fugitives into the towns. They came to shelter themselves, either in the church itself, or around the church; and they were not confined to men of the inferior class--serfs and boors--but were frequently men of consideration and wealth who had been proscribed. The chronicles of the epoch are full of such examples. We see men, formerly powerful, pursued by a neighbour yet more powerful, or by the king himself, abandoning their domains, carrying off all their movables, and flying to a town to put themselves under the protection of a church. These men became burgesses, and such refugees were, in my opinion, of some influence on the progress of towns, as they brought into them both wealth and the elements of a population superior to the bulk of the former inhabitants. Besides, is it not probable that, when anything like a considerable association had been formed in any quarter, men would flock to it, not only on account of the greater security afforded by it, but also from the mere spirit of sociability which is so natural to them."[3] Thus these towns became places of refuge; characters of all sorts, good and bad, those who fled from the oppressor, and those who sought to escape the avenger, were gathered together; and thus the rise of modern towns resembled the rise of ancient ones, and many a European city had an origin like that of Rome. "Many fled thither from the countries round about; those who had shed blood, and fled from the vengeance of the avenger of blood--those who were driven out from their own homes by their enemies, and even men of low degree who had run away from their lords. Thus the city became full of people."[4] Such was the commencement of the proud patrician families of Rome, and in like manner originated many a wealthy and noble family of merchants in modern times.

Till the ninth century, the people of Germany lived in open towns, or villages, under their feudal lords; but, at that period, the privilege of having walls began to be allowed. Hamburg was built, at that time, by Charlemagne, and was so distinguished; in the following century, a few more walled towns appeared on the banks of the Rhine and Danube, but their commerce was low and feeble. A charter was granted to Magdeburg, A.D. 940, "to build and fortify their city, and exercise municipal law therein;"[5] but the most northern parts of Germany could not boast of any towns till a later period. The first which was erected on the shores of the Baltic was Lubeck, which was founded, A.D. 1140, by Adolphus count of Holstein.[6]

In the Netherlands, the towns were in advance of those in Germany. In the tenth century, Thiel contained no less than fifty-five churches, from which it may be concluded that the population was very large. The people then had learned the art of draining their lands, and by the formation of dykes, they recovered from the waters extensive portions of territory. Habits of industry, union, and reciprocal justice were thus cherished, and the seeds of their subsequent commercial greatness sprang up in these Flemish communities. Their woollen manufactures, enabled them to trade with France, and thus to acquire considerable wealth, while their own population was clothed in good apparel.[7] Baldwin, count of Flanders, established annual fairs, or markets in the cities of his dominion, without demanding any tolls of the merchants who trafficked there. It was some time, however, before any of these towns could boast of much that was imposing in their appearance. The houses, in the ninth, century, were made of watlings of rods, or twigs plastered over with clay, and roofed with thatch, which, as trade advanced, gave way, no doubt, to habitations of a better order. But wood long remained the chief material in the construction of edifices, even of the superior order. As late as the eleventh century, buildings of stone were rare; and the parish church and the city bridges were commonly of timber.

The noble cathedral of Tournay, bearing evident traces of resemblance to the Byzantine architecture, is, however, a proof that, at an early period, there were edifices to be found in the Netherlands of great magnificence. It is interesting to look at these communities in their earlier history, located on the borders of vast forests, and in the midst of wide-spread marshes, contending with the difficulties of their situation, patiently laying the foundations of commercial greatness and renown, and teaching posterity what can be accomplished by earnest enterprising industry.

Some of the cities of the Netherlands were subject to episcopal jurisdiction, and the bishops of Liege, Utrecht, and Tournay, are distinguished in the annals of the middle ages; but other cities were subject to the counts of the province in which they were situate. Yet, at an early period, the shrewd people of that commercial country banded together for mutual protection and assistance, under the forms of guilds, or fraternities, which prepared for the municipal corporations of later times: and, in the case of the Frisons, or people of Friesland, they secured for themselves very considerable rights in the ninth century. These rights consisted in the freedom of every order of citizens, the possession of property, the privilege of trial by their own judges, a narrow limitation of military service, and an hereditary title to feudal estates, in direct line, on payment of certain dues. These rights formed the Magna Charta of the Frieslanders, and gave them a proud distinction among their neighbours.

With regard to the cities of France, Mr. Hallam remarks: "Every town, except within the royal domain, was subject to some lord. In episcopal cities, the bishop possessed a considerable authority, and in many there was a class of resident nobility. It is probable that the proportion of freemen was always greater than in the country; some sort of retail trade and even of manufacture, must have existed in the rudest of the middle ages; and, consequently, some little capital was required for their exercise. Nor is it so easy to oppress a collected body as the dispersed and dispirited cultivators of the soil: probably, therefore, the condition of the towns was, at all times, by far the more tolerable servitude, and they might enjoy several immunities by usage before the date of those charters which gave them sanction. In Provence, where the feudal star shone with a less powerful ray, the cities, though not independently governed, were more flourishing than the French. Marseilles, in the beginning of the twelfth age, was able to equip powerful navies, and to share in the wars of Genoa and Pisa against the Saracens of Sardinia."

If Paris is to be taken as a sample of the towns of France, before the twelfth century, they must have been in a deplorable condition of filth and wretchedness. The swine were accustomed to wallow in the streets of this metropolis, until a prince of the blood was thrown from his horse, in consequence of a sow running between the legs of the animal. To prevent the recurrence of such accidents, an order was issued to prohibit the swinish multitude from infesting the public thoroughfares of the city. But the monks of St. Antony remonstrated at this--the pigs of their monastery having had, from time immemorial, the privilege of frequenting, at liberty, every part of the towns, of feeding on such scraps and offal as they could find, and of reposing on the choice beds of mire which covered certain spots in the great highway. The monks were not to be resisted; and, at length, there was granted to the swine of their convent, the exclusive privilege of roaming about the Parisian streets without molestation, provided, only, that the said swine went forth on their peregrinations with bells tied about their necks.

[1] Germania, xvi.

[2] Hallam's Middle Ages, c. ix. p. 1.

[3] Guizot, Civilisation of Europe, Lect. 7.

[4] Arnold's History of Rome, vol. i. p. 7.

[5] Anderson's History of Commerce.

[6] Hallam.

[7] Macpherson's Annals of Commerce.

SECTION IV.

ANGLO-SAXON BOROUGHS.

The boroughs of our Anglo-Saxon fathers claim our notice. When the Romans conquered this island, they founded in different parts of the country their _civitates_, or cities. Twenty-eight of these are enumerated by Gildas, an historian of the sixth century, as existing in his time, which was about a hundred years after the Roman conquerors had relinquished their dominion in Britain. Beside these cities, the Romans formed a number of military stations, or strongholds. These cities and stations became Saxon towns, after the invasion of Britain by its new masters; the latter receiving the name of boroughs from the Latin burgus, which signifies a fortification. Other towns also sprang up in various directions, where local advantages invited a settlement of population; and long before the Norman conquest our island was thickly studded with townships of various sizes. It is very remarkable, that, with few exceptions, all the towns and villages of England appear to have existed from the Saxon times. Some of these towns, however, must have been extremely small, consisting of some few dwellings and other buildings, around the homestead of the Saxon lord, and not bearing any more resemblance to what they have since become, than some little hamlet bears to an important city.

"We must abandon," says sir Francis Palgrave, "any conjectures as to the government of the boroughs in the earlier periods. We must rest satisfied with the fact that, in the reign of the Confessor, the larger boroughs had assumed the form of communities, which, without much impropriety, may be described as territorial corporations. The legal character of the burgess arose from his possessions; it was a real right, arising from the qualifications which he held. The burgess was the owner of a tenement within the walls, and the possession might descend to his heirs, or be freely alienated to a stranger." The same writer considers that, in some instances, the possession of land imparted the right of judicature in the borough mote, or town assembly; but that while such persons were aldermen by tenure, there were other boroughs which possessed an elective magistracy. The nature of the Anglo-Saxon institutions has long been matter of dispute, and considerable doubt surrounds the interesting subject, which the most diligent and learned antiquaries are unable to dispel; but, so far as our municipal history is concerned, probably the twofold view of the organization of the Saxon towns suggested by sir F. Palgrave, is correct. The towns in which the tenure of land gave magisterial authority would most likely be the smaller ones, while elective magistrates would distinguish the larger communities. The following account by M. Thierry is, perhaps, accurate:--"The burgesses of London,[1] like those of most of the larger Anglo-Saxon towns, composed, under the designation of _hause_, a municipal corporation, which had the privilege of conducting the government of the city, and regulating its police. The presence of the king made no difference in its institutions, and the burgesses might, even without his permission, assemble and deliberate together on the internal administration of their city."[2] But this account, we apprehend, must be carefully restricted to the large towns of the Anglo-Saxons, or it will mislead the reader. Towns in general we cannot believe had attained to such power and independency. Still, even the existence of a few such towns, tending as they did to leaven the mass of the community with their own free sentiments, indicate the attainment of a no small degree of liberal civilisation by our Saxon ancestors.

Whether the Saxon burghs were represented in the _witenagemote_, or general assembly of the nation, is another question which has given rise to much controversy. On this point we are also inclined to follow sir Francis Palgrave. He considers that "the elected or virtual representatives of townships, or hundreds, constituted the multitude noticed as the people in the narratives describing the great councils, and other assemblies; for the share taken by the folk in the proceedings, forbids the conjecture that the bystanders were a mere disorderly crowd, brought together only as spectators, and destitute of any constitutional character." Yet he does not consider that they attended as mere deputies, chosen by popular election--but that they were the municipal authorities, who came by virtue of their office, or were sent to represent their brethren in the borough magistracy, who were unable themselves to attend; and he thinks that the expedient of authorizing a person not bearing office, to appear as a deputy on behalf of those who did, would be easily suggested, and would thus approximate to something like the modern system of parliamentary representation. All this seems feasible; but we are not warranted to conclude that there was anything fixed and definite in the modes of representing these boroughs; we should suppose that they were rather irregular, and were shaped by local, and even accidental circumstances.

As to the appearance, the classes of population, and the internal economy of the Saxon towns, we have more precise information. Almost all the buildings were of wood. Hence the complaint in King Edward's charter to Malmesbury Abbey, that the monasteries of the realm were to the sight "nothing but worm-eaten and rotten timbers and boards." Yet there were some edifices of stone at an early period; witness St. Wilfred's church, at Hexham, built A.D. 674, of which an elaborate account is preserved, written by prior Richard, in the twelfth century. The churches built of stone were probably of a simple form, resembling some of our oldest parish churches, with a nave and chancel, and sometimes side aisles. In cases where timber was employed, there was, perhaps, more of decoration. We read of glass windows in the monastery of Wearmouth, as early as the seventh century: but, as late as the time of Alfred, they must have been very uncommon; for, when the ingenious monarch tried to measure the time by burning candles, they so flared about in the wind, which came rushing through the lattices of the apartment, that he made horn lanterns to shelter them from the blast. Chimneys were luxuries unknown, the fires in the houses being made in the centre of the floor, over which there was generally an opening in the roof to allow the escape of smoke; and when the fire went out, or the family retired to rest, the place in which it was made was closed by a cover. What must have been the state of the highways in provincial towns, may be conjectured from the well-known fact that, in the eleventh century, the ground in Cheapside was so soft, that when the roof of Bow Church was blown off, four of the beams, each twenty-six feet long, were so deeply buried in the street, that little more than four feet of the timber remained above the surface.

The internal appearance of the Anglo-Saxon dwellings of the higher class, according to the researches of antiquaries, exhibited some advance in the cultivation of the arts. Let us enter one of them.--The walls are hung with silk, embroidered with gold, the work of Saxon maidens, who, like the damsels of Israel, produce "divers colours of needlework." Chairs and benches may be seen in the apartments, adorned with carvings of the heads and feet of lions, eagles, griffins. They are of wood, and some of them are adorned with precious metals. The tables are of a similar description. You see them spread with cloths for the approaching meal, and furnished with knives, spoons, drinking horns, cups, bowls, and dishes. Lamps, and other vessels of glass, though rare, are not unknown; and silver candelabra, and candlesticks of various descriptions, adorn the rooms. There are also lanterns of horn, and mirrors of silver. The Anglo-Saxon bedsteads resemble cribs, or cots, and are furnished with beds, pillows, bed-clothes, curtains, sheets, and coverlets of skin. The luxury of a warm bath, too, may be obtained. Stepping into the kitchen, you have ovens and boiling vessels, and yonder is a cook, dressing some meat. He is thrusting a stick, with a hook at the end, into a caldron, which stands on a four-legged trivet, within which the fire is made. The roast meat is brought up to the table by the servants, upon spits, the guests cutting off such portions as they please.[3]

The Anglo-Saxons are addicted to the pleasures of the table; and to their lasting dishonour be it said, "that excess in drinking is the common vice of all ranks of people, in which they spend whole nights and days, without intermission."[4] A number of men and women prepare the wine chamber, the minstrel sings his lay, the hall games follow, and the drinking cup goes round the festive circle.[5]

Let us walk through the streets of an Anglo-Saxon town of the largest class, and look at the different orders of the population. The greater number of persons we meet with are the Saxon ceorls, or churls. The Domesday-hook speaks of some who belonged to the class of ceorls as "_liberi homines_." Some of these are freemen: others, though they have personal rights, and are under the full protection of the laws, are notwithstanding bound to the soil on which they live and labour. They form a peculiar class of vassals, being under certain obligations to their lord, yet having a property in the land they till. These churls constitute the commonalty of the country, in distinction from the nobles, or eorls. The weregild, or compensation for murder, so common among the Germanic nations, who overthrew the Roman empire, and forming an index of the social position of different classes of the community, values the life of a ceorl at two hundred shillings, and that of an eorl at twelve hundred. These churls are labourers, artisans, and traders, of various descriptions; they wear a woollen tunic, descending to the knee, with a collar round their necks. The legs of some are naked; but most wear shoes. Certain of these passers-by wear bandages, or cross garters, commonly red or blue, above their ancles, and round the calf. From the shoulders of the better sort, you may also notice short cloaks, about the same length as the tunics. Their long hair, profuse beard, fair complexion, and light eyes, evince their Teutonic origin; while their countenance and bearing seem to proclaim that they belong to an intelligent and freeborn race. Yonder goes a Saxon eorl, alderman, or thane. He is of gentle blood, and has a place in the witenagemote, or national assembly: persons of his class are lords of townships, and are assessors in judgment with the bishop and the sheriff, in the well-known county courts, which form the palladium of Saxon justice. Just by him there walks one of the inferior nobility, or lesser thanes. The dress of these parties distinguishes them from the common multitude. The same in form, it is costlier in material and ornament. The tunic is of rich cloth, and embroidered on the border; the mantle is of silk, and lined with fur, with a large brooch fastening it round the neck. The women who are passing through the street wear a long garment with loose sleeves, over a kirtle, and their head-dress is made of a piece of serge, or silk, wrapped round the head and neck.

The clergy rank with the nobility; indeed, they form the highest order. Their office invests them with a dignity, which men in general revere. Even the _world thane_, as the nobleman is called, looks with respect upon the mass thane, or common priest, and treats him as an equal; while the greatest eorl gives precedence to the bishop. Men of this class may be easily recognised by the ecclesiastical garb.

We arrive at the house of a Saxon nobleman. Before us is the great hall, with a projecting porch, supported by pillars and arches. Folds of drapery are discerned through the opening, and lamps are seen suspended from the ceiling. On the one side of the hall is the chapel, with a curtain in front, withdrawn, and a lamp hanging near the door. On the roof of the building is a globe, surmounted by a cross. On the other side are various buildings appropriated to the domestics. The noble thane is now sitting in the open hall, surrounded by his family, and attended by a number of servants, armed with shields and spears; yet are they there for no warlike purpose, for he is engaged in acts of charity, giving alms to the poor, who throng around him in suppliant attitudes, and gratefully receive his generous offerings.

We now reach the county court, where the thanes are assembled to sit in judgment. Oaths of allegiance are here administered to freemen; inquiries are made into breaches of the peace, criminals are tried, and civil claims determined. The following is the record of a suit in the reign of Canute:--"It is made known by this writing, that in the shiregemot, county court, held at Agelnothes-stane, (Aylston, Herefordshire,) in the reign of Canute, there sat Athexton the bishop, and Raing the alderman, and Edwin his sone, and Leofwin, Wulfig's son, and Thurkil the white; and Tofig came there on the king's business: and there was Bryning the sheriff, and Athelweard of Frome, and Leofwin of Frome, and Goodrie of Stoke, and all the thanes of Herefordshire. Then came to the mote Edwin, son of Euneawne, and sues his mother for some lands, Weolintun and Cyrdeslea. Then the bishop asked, who would answer for his mother. Then answered Thurkil the white, and said that he would, if he knew the facts, which he did not. Then were seen in the mote three thanes that belonged to Feligly, (Fawley, five miles from Aylston,) Loefwin of Frome, Ægelwig the red, and Thinsig Stægthmans; and they went to her, and inquired what she had to say about the lands which her sone claimed. She said that she had no land which belonged to him, and fell into a noble passion against her son, and calling for Leofleda her kinswoman, the wife of Thurkil, thus spake to her before them:--'This is Leofleda, my kingswoman, to whom I give my lands, money, clothes, and whatever I posses after my life.' And this said, she spake thus to the thanes, 'Behave like thanks, and declare my message to all good men in the mode, and tell them to whom I have given my lands, and all my possessions, and nothing to my son;' and bade them be witnesses of this. And thus they did; rode to the mote, and told al the good men what she had enjoined them. Then Thurkil the white addressed the mote, and requested all the thanes to let his wife have the lands which her kinswoman had given her; and thus they did; and Thurkil rode to the church of St. Ethelbert, with the leave and witness of all the people, and had this inserted in a book in the church."

It need scarcely be observed that the document shows "the crude state of legal process and inquiry" at the time to which it relates, and "in the practical jurisprudence of our Saxon ancestors, even at the beginning of the eleventh century, we perceive no advance of civility and skill from the state of their own savage progenitors on the banks of the Elbe."[6] It is important to remark that the county court is the great constitutional judicature in all questions of civil right, and, unless justice be there denied, no appeal can be made to the royal tribunal.

Among the Anglo-Saxons the practice of "compurgation" obtains in criminal cases; the accused has the privilege of clearing his character, and establishing his innocence, by his own oath, supported by the oaths of a certain number of persons who can pledge themselves to the truth of his testimony.[7] Where he fails to obtain these compurgators he appeals to the ordeal, by the issue of which his cause is decided.

In walking through the Anglo-Saxon town we perceive some indications of trade. Artificers are at work; among whom the tanner, the blacksmith, and the carpenter are most distinguished and useful. But let us hasten to the market. Some encouragement is afforded to commerce by the laws of the country; by which it is enacted, that every merchant who has made three voyages over the sea, with a ship and cargo of his own, shall be elevated to the rank of a thane, or nobleman. That the principle of commerce is understood appears from the following conversation which we overhear between a merchant and his neighbour:

_Merchant_.--"I say that I am useful to the king, and to aldermen, and to the rich, and to all people. I ascend my ship with my merchandise, and sail over the sea-like places, and sell my things, and buy dear things, which are not produced in this land, and I bring them to you here with great danger over the sea: and sometimes I suffer shipwreck with the loss of all things, scarcely escaping myself."

_Neighbour_.--"What do you bring us?"

_Merchant_.--"Skins, silks, costly gems, and gold; various garments, pigments, wine, oil, ivory, orichalcus, (perhaps brass,) copper, and tin, silver, glass, and such like."

_Neighbour_.--"Will you sell your things here as you bought them there?"

_Merchant_.--"I will not, because what would my labour benefit me? I will sell them here dearer than I bought them there, that I may get some profit to feed me, my wife, and children."

But commercial dealings in this market are sadly fettered. Witness the following enactments: "If any of the people of Kent buy anything in the city of London, he must have two or three honest men, or the king's ports' reeve present at the bargain."--"Let none exchange one thing for another, except in the presence of the sheriff, the mass priest, the lord of the manor, or some other person of undoubted veracity. If they do otherwise they shall pay a fine of thirty shillings, besides forfeiting the goods so exchanged to the lord of the manor." These restrictions, which apply to the sale of all articles above the value of twenty pence, are evidently intended for the security of the revenue, to which a certain tax is paid on everything which is purchased at a price above that sum. We may add, that the market is held once a week. Sunday was once, in most towns, the market-day--and still is, in some--to suit the convenience of the people who then have leisure, and are congregated together in the town to attend on mass: but the clergy, who justly consider this a sad profanation, have long endeavoured to put a stop to the practice, and to shift the market to the Saturday; in which laudable design they have succeeded, in many places.

In our imaginary ramble through the Anglo-Saxon town, we have met with a number of slaves. They form the population below the ceorls. Slavery existed in England before the Saxon invasion, and has been perpetuated by the conquerors. Part of the conquered Britons were reduced to this degraded state by their new lords; and some freeborn Saxons have, on account of debt, want, crime, or inability to resist oppression, been drawn into this abject class of the population. The disenfranchisement of the free is attended by significant and disgraceful rites. The unhappy individual resigns his sword and lance, and receives the bill and goad; he then humbly kneels, and places his head under the hand of his master, as a sign of full submission. Slaves are common articles of traffic, and are publicly sold in the Anglo-Saxon markets. The importation of slaves from other countries is allowed, but the exportation of native slaves is forbidden; yet an illicit trade of the latter kind is carried on particularly at Bristol, where the Anglo-Saxons may be found selling to the Irish, not only their servants, but even their own children and other relatives.

Here we must close our notice of the towns in the dark ages, and, with it, our brief and imperfect review of the general social condition of Europe, during that period. It certainly was not the age of great cities. They did not flourish then; manufactures, commerce, the arts and habits of peaceful enterprise, all of which form the sinews of strength in civic communities, were in a feeble state. Towns did not take a leading part in the movement of society, and did not give expression to the spirit of the age, as they do in our day. In looking at the church, the monastery, and the feudal castle, it must be felt that there, not in the town, was to be found the presiding genius of the times. They were the chief social elements then at work; they belonged to the period; they inspired it, and gave a shape to its affairs; but towns, properly speaking, belong to other eras, to times before and after, and come in, during the age reviewed, merely as links uniting the forms of ancient and modern civilisation. Yet toward the end of the dark ages they are seen reviving, and beginning once more to play a conspicuous part on the stage of the world, giving obvious presages of what they have since become.

Abundant materials for reflection are presented to the reader, in the five short chapters which compose this little volume.

These sketches illustrate the plan of Divine Providence. Perhaps, in looking at the facts reviewed, the reader will be struck with the slow advance of human improvement, and with the permission and long continuance of so much that was apparently useless, and even pernicious in the institutions, habits, and spirit of society. Without touching upon the great problem of the ultimate cause of moral evil in the universe of God--which is a question not to be fathomed by the limited intellect of man--it may be observed, that the state of things which obtained in Europe, for so many centuries, is but analogous to what we find has taken place in the physical creation. In looking back upon the natural history of our world, we find that the operation of the Divine laws has been slow and gradual; that geological eras of long duration have occurred, in which much was going on that might seem useless, and even hurtful: we see, for example, that vast spaces of time were occupied by the growth of vegetation in wild and rank luxuriance, which apparently yielded no advantage, which was connected with a state of the atmosphere unfavourable to animal life, and which was, at length, submerged beneath the waters, probably by some terrific convulsions. But these slow and gradual changes have issued in the present beautiful and useful condition of the physical world, and these long periods of seeming useless, and even pernicious vegetation, were the eras of our coal formations, when those treasures were being prepared upon which modern comfort, modern art, and modern civilisation so much depend. In the institutions and events of the dark ages, there were being formed the elements of that civilisation which is now developing itself, and which will, under Christian influence and the blessing of God, doubtless, ultimately yield the highest benefits to man, in his present state of existence. But after all, it becomes us humbly and devoutly to admit that Divine providence is a scheme but imperfectly understood by the human mind, even when enlightened by the Holy Spirit; and such a mind is willing now to leave the dark recesses unexplored. "Lo, these are parts of his ways: but how little a portion is heard of him!" Here we have but his whisper word! the Almighty! we find Him not. But what we know not now, we shall know hereafter; and what a large measure of pure enjoyment will be afforded, in a future state of existence, to those who, through the atonement of our Divine Redeemer, and the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit, shall attain to a blessed immortality, as they receive, in a manner of which we have now no conception, revelations of the mystery of providence; as they stand before His throne whose glory it will then be to unfold, as it is now his glory "to conceal a thing;" and as they discern the connexion of the whole history of mankind with the glorious economy of redeeming love.

[1] The population of London in the fourteenth century did not exceed 35,000. Mr. Hallam thinks that, at the time of the conquest, it was less. York contained about 10,000 inhabitants.

[2] History of the Norman Conquest.

[3] Pictorial History of England, i. 323

[4] William of Malmesbury.

[5] Poem of Beowulf. Pict. Hist. 337.

[6] Hallam.

[7] Trial by jury has often been described as an Anglo-Saxon practice, for which we are indebted to the wisdom of Alfred. Without going into this disputed point we would refer the reader to an article in the Penny Cyclopædia, (Jury,) where he will find it discussed, and from which we quote the following extract:--"The trial by twelve compurgators, which was of canonical origin and was known to the Anglo-Saxons, and also to many foreign nations, resembled the trial by jury only in the number of persons sworn: and no conclusion can be drawn from this circumstance, as twelve was not only a common number throughout Europe for canonical and other purgations, but was the favourite number in every branch of the polity and jurisprudence of the Gothic nations."

RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY: INSTITUTED 1799.