The Thirteenth, Greatest of Centuries

by James J. Walsh

"These things prove, beyond all dispute, that England was, in Catholic times, a real wealthy country; that wealth was generally diffused; that every part of the country abounded in men of solid property; and that, of course, there were always great resources at hand in cases of emergency." … "In short, everything shows that England was then a country abounding in men of real wealth."

Fortesque, the Lord High Chancellor of England under Henry VI., king a century after the Thirteenth, has this to say with regard to the legal and economic conditions in England in his time. Some people may think the picture he gives an exaggeration, but it was written by a great lawyer with the definite idea of giving a picture of the times, and, under ordinary circumstances, we would say that there could be no better authority.

"The King of England cannot alter the laws, or make new ones, without the express consent of the whole kingdom in Parliament assembled. Every inhabitant is at his liberty fully to use and enjoy whatever his farm produceth, the fruits of the earth, the increase of his flock and the like—all the improvements he makes, whether by his own proper industry or of those he retains in his service, are his own, to use and enjoy, without the let, interruption or denial of any. If he be in any wise injured or oppressed, he shall have his amends and satisfactions against the party offending. Hence it is that the inhabitants are rich in gold, silver, and in all the necessaries and conveniences of life. They drink no water unless at certain times, upon a religious score, and by way of doing penance. They are fed in great abundance, with all sorts of flesh and fish, of which they have plenty everywhere; they are clothed throughout in good woollens, their bedding and other furniture in the house are of wool, and that in great store. They are also well provided with all sorts of household goods and necessary implements for husbandry. Every one, according to his rank, hath all things which conduce to make mind and life easy and happy."

INTEREST AND LOANS.

A number of commercial friends have been interested in the wonderful story of business organizations traced in the chapter on Great Beginnings of Modern Commerce. They have all been sure, however, that it is quite idle to talk of great commercial possibilities at a time when ecclesiastical regulations forbade the taking of interest. This would seem to make it quite impossible that great commercial transactions could be carried on, yet somehow these people succeeded in accomplishing them. A number of writers on economics in recent years have suggested that possibly one solution of the danger to government and popular rights from the accumulation of large fortunes might be avoided by a return to the system of prohibition of interest taking. There is [{482}] much more in that proposition than might possibly be thought by those who are unfamiliar with it from serious consideration. They did succeed in getting on without it in the Thirteenth Century, and at the same time they solved the other problem of providing loans, not alone for business people, but for all those who might need them. We are solving the "loan shark" evil at the present time in nearly the same way that they solved it seven centuries ago. Abbot Gasquet, in his "Parish Life in England Before the Reformation," describes the methods of the early days as follows:

"The parish wardens had their duties towards the poorer members of the district. In more than one instance they were guardians of the common chest, out of which temporary loans could be obtained by needy parishioners, to tide over persons in difficulties. These loans were secured by pledges and the additional security of other parishioners. No interest was charged for the use of the money, and in case the pledge had to be sold, everything over and above the sum lent was returned to the borrower."

THE EIGHTEENTH
LOWEST OF CENTURIES.

There is no doubt that the nineteenth century, and especially the latter half of it, saw some very satisfactory progress over immediately preceding times. With the recognition of this fact, that the last century so far surpassed its predecessor there has been a tendency to assume, because evolution occupies men's minds, that the eighteenth must have quite as far surpassed the seventeenth, and the seventeenth the sixteenth, and so on, so that of course we are far ahead in everything of the despised Middle Ages. In recent years, indeed, we have dropped the attitude of blaming the earlier ages, for one of complacent pity that they were not born soon enough, and, therefore, could not enjoy our advantages. Unfortunately for any such conclusion as this, the term of comparison nearest to us, the eighteenth century is without doubt the lowest hundred years in human accomplishment, at least during the past seven centuries.

This is true for every form of human endeavor and every phase of human existence. Prof. Goodyear, of the Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Science, the well-known author of a series of books on art and history, in one of the chapters of his Handbook on Renaissance and Modern Art (New York, The McMillan Co.), in describing the Greek revival of the latter part of the eighteenth century says: "According to our accounts so far throughout this whole book, either of architecture, painting, or sculpture, it will appear that the earlier nineteenth century represents the foot of a hill, whose gradual descent began about 1530." As a matter of fact, in every department of artistic expression the taste of the eighteenth century was almost the worst possible. The monuments that we have from that time, in the shape of churches and municipal buildings, are few, but such as they are, they are the least [{483}] worthy of imitation, and the art ideas they represent are most to be deprecated of any in the whole history of modern art.

Perhaps the most awful arraignment of the eighteenth and early nineteenth century that was ever made is that of Mr. Cram, in the Ruined Abbeys of Great Britain, from which I have already quoted. He calls attention to the fact that, during this century, some of the most beautiful sculptured work that ever came from the hand of man was torn out of the ruins of St. Mary's Abbey, York, to serve no better purpose than to make lime. His description of the sculpture of the Abbey will give some idea of its beauty and render all the more poignant the loss that was thus inflicted on art. He says: