SECTION
I.
The Feudal
System
When
nations subject to despotic government make conquests, these serve only to
extend the dominion and the power of their master. But armies composed of
freemen conquer for themselves, not for their leaders. The people who
overturned the Roman empire, and settled in its various provinces, were of the
latter class. Not only the different nations that issued from the north of
Europe, which has always been considered as the state of liberty, but the Huns
and Alans who inhabited part of those countries, which have been marked out as
the peculiar region of servitude, enjoyed freedom and independence in such a
high degree as seems to be scarcely compatible with a state of social union, or
with the subordination necessary to maintain it. They followed the chieftain
who led them forth in quest of new settlements, not by constraint, but from
choice; not as soldiers whom he could order to march, but as volunteers who
offered to accompany him. They considered their conquests as a common property,
in which all had a title to share, as all had contributed to acquire them. In
what manner or by what principles, they divided among them the lands which they
seized we cannot now determine with any certainty. There is no nation in Europe
whose records reach back to this remote period; and there is little information
to be got from the uninstructive and meager chronicles compiled by writers
ignorant of the true end, and unacquainted with the proper objects of history.
This
new division of property, however, together with the maxims and manners to
which it gave rise, gradually introduced a species of government formerly
unknown. This singular institution is now distinguished by the name of the Feudal
System; and though the barbarous nations which framed it, settled in their new
territories at different times, came from different countries, spoke various
languages, and were under the command of separate leaders, the feudal policy
and laws were established, with little variation, in every kingdom of Europe.
This amazing uniformity had induced some authors to believe that all these
nations, notwithstanding so many apparent circumstances of distinction, were
originally the same people. But it may be ascribed with greater probability, to
the similar state of society and of manners to which they were accustomed in
their native countries, and to the similar situation in which they found
themselves on taking possession of their new domains.
As
the conquerors of Europe had their acquisitions to maintain, not only against
such of the ancient inhabitants as they had spared, but against the more
formidable inroads of new invaders, self-defence was their chief care, and
seems to have been the chief object of their first institutions and policy.
Instead of those loose associations, which, though they scarcely diminished
their personal independence, had been sufficient for their security while they
remained in their original countries, they saw the necessity of uniting in more
close confederacy, and of relinquishing some of their private rights in order
to attain public safety. Every free man, upon receiving a portion of the lands
which were divided, bound himself to appear in arms against the enemies of the
community. This military service was the condition upon which he received and
held his lands; and as they were exempted from every other burden, that tenure,
among a warlike people, was deemed both easy and honorable. The king or general
who led them to conquest, continuing still to be the head of the colony, had,
of course, the largest portion allotted to him. Having thus acquired the means
of rewarding past services, as well as of gaining new adherents, he parceled
out his lands with this view, binding those on whom they were bestowed to
resort to his standard with a number of men in proportion to the extent of the
territory which they received, and to bear arms in his defence. His chief
officers imitated the example of the sovereign, and, in distributing portions
of their lands among their dependents, annexed the same condition to the grant.
Thus a feudal kingdom resembled a military establishment, rather than a civil
institution. The victorious army, cantoned out in the country which it had
seized, continued ranged under its proper officers, and subordinate to military
command. The names of a soldier and of a freeman were synonymous. Every
proprietor of land, girt with a sword, was ready to march at the summons of his
superior, and to take the field against the common enemy.
But
though the feudal policy seems to be so admirably calculated for defence
against the assaults of any foreign power, its provisions for the interior
order and tranquility of society were extremely defective. The principles of
disorder and corruption are discernible in that constitution under its best and
most perfect form. They soon unfolded themselves, and, spreading with rapidity
through every part of the system, produced the most fatal effects. The bond of
political union was extremely feeble; the sources of anarchy were innumerable.
The monarchical and aristocratical parts of the constitution, having no
intermediate power to balance them, were perpetually at variance, and justling
with each other. The powerful vassals of the crown soon extorted a confirmation
for life of those grants of land, which being at first purely gratuitous, had
been bestowed only during pleasure. Not satisfied with this, they prevailed to
have them converted into hereditary possessions. One step more completed their
usurpations, and rendered them unalienable.
With an ambition no less
enterprising, and more preposterous, they appropriated to themselves titles of
honor, as well as offices of power or trust. These personal marks of
distinction, which the public admiration bestows on illustrious merit, or which
the public confidence confers on extraordinary abilities, were annexed to
certain families, and transmitted like fiefs, from father to son, by hereditary
right. The crown vassals having thus secured the possession of their lands and
dignities, the nature of the feudal institutions, which though founded on
subordination verged to independence, led them to new, and still more dangerous
encroachments on the prerogatives of the sovereign. They obtained the power of
supreme jurisdiction, both civil and criminal, within their own territories;
the right of coining money; together with the privilege of carrying on war
against their private enemies, in their own name, and by their own authority.
The ideas of political subjection were almost entirely lost, and frequently
scarce any appearance of feudal subordination remained. Nobles who had acquired
such enormous power, scorned to consider themselves as subjects. They aspired
openly at being independent: the bonds which connected the principal members of
the constitution with the crown, were dissolved. A kingdom, considerable in
name and in extent, was broken into as many separate principalities as it
contained powerful barons. A thousand causes of jealousy and discord subsisted
among them, and gave rise to as many wars.
Every country in Europe, wasted or
kept in continual alarm during these endless contests, was filled with castles
and places of strength erected for the security of the inhabitants; not against
foreign force, but against internal hostilities. A universal anarchy,
destructive, in a great measure, of all the advantages which men expect to
derive from society, prevailed. The people, the most numerous as well as the
most useful part of the community, were either reduced to a state of actual
servitude, or treated with the same insolence and rigor as if they had been
degraded into that wretched condition. The king, stripped of almost every
prerogative, and without authority to enact or to execute salutary laws, could
neither protect the innocent, nor punish the guilty. The nobles, superior to
all restraint, harassed each other with perpetual wars, oppressed their
fellow-subjects, and humbled or insulted their sovereign. To crown all, time gradually fixed and rendered venerable this pernicious system, which violence
had established.
Such
was the state of Europe with respect to the interior administration of
government from the seventh to the eleventh century. All the external
operations of its various states, during this period, were of course extremely
feeble. A kingdom dismembered, and torn with dissension, without any common
interest to rouse, or any common head to conduct its force, was incapable of
acting with vigor. Almost all the wars in Europe, during the ages which I have
mentioned, were trifling, indecisive, and productive of no considerable event. They
resembled the short incursions of pirates or banditti, rather than the steady
operations of a regular army.
Every baron, at the head of his vassals, carried
on some petty enterprise, to which he was prompted by his own ambition or
revenge. The state itself, destitute of union, either remained altogether
inactive, or if it attempted to make any effort, that served only to discover
its impotence. The superior genius of Charlemagne, it is true, united all these
disjointed and discordant members, and forming them again into one body,
restored to government that degree of activity which distinguishes his reign,
and renders the transactions of it, objects not only of attention but of
admiration to more enlightened times. But this state of union and vigor, not
being natural to the feudal government, was of short duration. Immediately upon
his death, the spirit which animated and sustained the vast system which he had
established, being withdrawn, it broke into pieces. All the calamities which
flow from anarchy and discord, returning with additional force, afflicted the
different kingdoms into which his empire was split. From that time to the
eleventh century, a succession of uninteresting events; a series of wars, the
motives as well as the consequences of which were unimportant, fill and deform
the annals of all the nations in Europe.
To
these pernicious effects of the feudal anarchy may be added its fatal influence
on the character and improvement of the human mind. If men do not enjoy the
protection of regular government, together with the expectation of personal
security, which naturally flows from it, they never attempt to make progress in
science, nor aim at attaining refinement in taste or in manners. That period of
turbulence, oppression, and rapine, which I have described, was ill suited to
favor improvement in any of these.
The Dark Age