History of Civilization in England, Vol. 1 of 3

by Henry Thomas Buckle

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.