The combined revenues of the Spanish Crown at the close of the fifteenth century amounted to a sum equal to three hundred thousand dollars, about one-thousandth of the annual receipts of the imperial treasury at the death of Abd-al-Rahman III., seven hundred years before.

Fifty years after the banishment of the Moors, the combined population of the cities of Cordova, Seville, Toledo, Granada, had decreased by more than four-fifths; it is now about one-tenth of its amount during the Moslem domination. In 1788 there were fifteen hundred and eleven deserted towns in the Peninsula. Toledo, celebrated for its silken fabrics, in the latter part of the fifteenth century had sixty thousand looms; in 1651 it had five thousand; to-day it has none. The same industry was pursued with great success at Seville; in the seventeenth century the number of its looms had decreased from sixteen thousand to sixteen. All other branches of manufactures declined in the same proportion. Even a large part of the kingdom of Valencia, the garden of Europe, was for years an uninhabited wilderness. With the Moslem expulsion the knowledge of many arts, once the source of great profit, was hopelessly lost.

To the pious Spaniard all these sacrifices were as nothing when compared with the triumph of the Faith. The ports were unoccupied, the quays grass-grown, but the armies of the Cross had conquered. The manufactories had fallen into decay, the streets were silent, the highways were deserted except by the timorous traveller and the lurking robber, but not a Moslem or a Jewish heretic was to be encountered in His Most Catholic Majesty’s dominions. At the close of the seventeenth century, throughout the entire Peninsula, once the centre of learning in Europe, the resort of scholars of every land, the seat of the greatest educational institutions of the Middle Ages, not a single academy existed where instruction could be obtained in astronomy, natural philosophy, or any branch of mathematics. A hundred years later no one could be found who understood even the rudiments of chemistry. To-day, among the inhabitants of Spain, according to the published tables of statistics, only one person in every four can read. But what mattered the destruction of commerce, the decay of production, the dearth of intelligence, if the land was purged of false doctrines?, Was it not a source of national congratulation that ecclesiastical authority was once more paramount; that half of the able-bodied population, male and female, were devoted to monastic life; that magnificent religious foundations, such as the world had never before seen, arose on every side; that, though the royal treasury was bankrupt, the annual revenues of the Church amounted to nearly fifty-three million dollars? Surely these manifold divine blessings were not to be weighed with the transitory benefits derived from the labors of a mass of perverse and unregenerate heretics!

The results, both immediate and remote, of this crime against civilization thus proved fatal to Spain. Its principal sources of subsistence removed, the kingdom was desolated by famine. It became necessary to extend public aid to many noble families, once affluent, but now impoverished by the suicidal course of the crown. Popular sentiment, exasperated by distress, denounced in unsparing terms the authors of the national calamity. The Archbishop of Valencia, unable to endure the daily reproaches to which he was subjected, and overcome by the sufferings for which he was responsible, died of remorse. Silence and gloom occupied vast tracts formerly covered by exuberant vegetation. In the place of the farmer and the mechanic appeared the brigand and the outlaw. Deprived of protection, the open country was abandoned; the peasantry sought the security of fortified places, and all occupations whose pursuit implied exposure to the danger of violence were necessarily suspended. The conditions controlling every rank of society which were established in the Peninsula by the blind and savage prejudices of the seventeenth century are largely prevalent to-day. A dreadful retribution has followed a tragedy whose example happily no other nation has ventured to imitate; and which, from the hour of its occurrence, has afflicted with every misfortune to the last generation the people responsible for its hideous atrocities.

CHAPTER XXVII
GENERAL CONDITION OF EUROPE FROM THE VIII. TO THE XVI. CENTURY
700–1500

Effects of Barbarian Supremacy on the Nations of Europe—Rise of the Papal Power—Character of the Popes—Their Vices and Crimes—The Interdict—Corrupt Practices of Prelates and Degradation of the Papacy—Institution of the Monastic Orders—Their Great Influence—Their Final Degeneracy—Wealth of the Religious Houses—The Byzantine System—Its Characteristics—Power of the Eunuchs—Splendor of Constantinople—Destruction of Learning—Debased Condition of the Greeks—The People of Western Europe—Tyranny of Caste and its Effects—Feudal Oppression—Life of the Noble—His Amusements—The Serf and his Degradation—His Hopeless Existence—Treatment of the Jews—Prevalence of Epidemics—Religious Festivals—General Ignorance—Scarcity and Value of Books—Persecution of Learning—The Empire of the Church—Its Extraordinary Vitality.

In order that the reader may thoroughly understand and properly appreciate the moral and intellectual supremacy of the Spanish Arabs and their prodigious advance in the domain of science and the arts, I have thought it advisable, by way of contrast, to present to him a short and superficial sketch of the religious, political, and domestic conditions which prevailed in the society of contemporaneous Europe. The extent of this vast and comprehensive subject—one which has exhausted the erudition of many great historians, whose works of themselves would constitute a considerable library—must, therefore, excuse the incomplete and cursory character of this chapter; while its importance as a standard of comparison will account for an apparent deviation from the general plan embraced by these volumes.

The elegant luxury and refined civilization of the Romans had disappeared amidst the universal anarchy which followed the dissolution of their empire. The boundaries of great states and kingdoms had been obliterated. Provinces once famed for their fertility were now the haunts of prowling beasts and truculent barbarians. The despotic but generally salutary government of the Cæsars had everywhere, save in the immediate vicinity of Byzantium, been replaced by the capricious and irregular jurisdiction of petty chieftains, whose violent passions were restrained only by their weakness, and of marauding princes, ambitious to destroy every vestige of that architectural magnificence and mental culture whose monuments they despised, and whose example they had neither the desire nor the capacity to emulate. Instead of a smiling landscape, everywhere exhibiting the traces of agricultural skill and laborious and patient industry, a prospect of universal desolation met the eye of the anxious and hurrying wayfarer. Moss-grown heaps of rubbish alone marked the site of many a once flourishing and opulent city. The towering aqueducts,—those engineering marvels of the ancient world,—whose majestic ruins still excite the admiration of all mankind, were broken and fallen into decay. The peerless temples and altars of the gods had been desecrated by the hands of sacrilegious Goth, Hun, and Lombard. Bands of brigands, insensible to pity, swarmed upon the highways. In the cities the equitable decisions of the prætor had been supplanted by the extortions of ecclesiastical fraud and barbarian insolence. The vices prevalent during the most abandoned period of Roman licentiousness had survived, and had been aggravated by the unfeeling cruelty of the conquerors. No scruples of humanity or delicacy suggested the concealment of the most revolting orgies. The streets of the Eternal City exhibited enormities whose very mention the rules of modern propriety do not tolerate. Banquets where the brutal propensities of the turbulent and uncouth guests were indulged to the utmost constantly afforded provocation for bloodshed and murder. Knowledge of letters, understanding and appreciation of the arts, had already wholly vanished. The literary masterpieces of classic genius remained unknown or forgotten in the insignificant collections of scattered libraries, or had been buried under the smoking ruins of those institutions of learning which once adorned the capitals and the provincial cities of Greece and Italy.

By the accident of geographical position, by the adoption of familiar political maxims, and by the incorporation into its ritual of many ceremonies long endeared to the votaries of Paganism, the Church of Rome had secured an influence over the minds of men which under any other circumstances it could scarcely have acquired. The revered name and dignity of Supreme Pontiff imparted authority to its decrees and gave prestige to its decisions on questions of doctrine. The five Christian emperors, from Constantine to Gratian, adopted without alteration the attributes and wore the insignia of the sacred office established by Numa and usurped by Augustus. The assumption of imperial power is shown by the extent of Papal jurisdiction long sharply defined by the ancient limits of the empire. The adoption of the Latin idiom enabled the Church to communicate secretly with its servants in the most distant countries; while at the same time it invested the proceedings of its worship with a mystery which awed the ignorant and fanatic believer. The splendid ceremonial, the imposing temples, the elaborate vestments, the costly furniture of the altar enriched with gold and jewels, the incense, the solemn chants, the consecration of the Host,—all powerfully impressed the superstitious children of the slaves of ancient mythology, in whose minds still lingered traces of those traditions which had been received by their fathers with the implicit faith due to the oracles of the gods.

In the course of centuries, the primitive simplicity of the Gospel and the purity of life which distinguished the first Christians had been lost in the complex theology, in the unseemly contests for precedence, in the crimes and the licentiousness which distracted the society of the Eternal City. From a simple priest, whose tenure of office was dependent on the pleasure of his associates, the Bishop of Rome had been exalted into a mighty sovereign, responsible only to the powers of Heaven. The palace of the Vatican exhibited all the vices of the most corrupt of courts. The assumption of infallibility,—an inevitable result of the preposterous claims of the Papacy,—through the contradictory interpretations of different individuals whose interests were conflicting led to the most opposite conclusions, often to results fatal to the peace and honor of the Church. The faith of the populace was weakened. Infidelity in the priesthood became too common to excite remark. The universal depravity was incredible and appalling. The general demoralization resulting from the example of the clergy, whose atheism and debauchery were proverbial, threatened the existence of society, a catastrophe which the thorough organization of the hierarchy alone prevented. Even in the fifteenth century Machiavelli wrote, “The nearer a nation is to Rome the more impious are the people.” When the German Schopp called the famous scholar, Casaubon, an atheist, the latter retorted: “If I were an atheist I should now be at Rome, where I have often been invited.” The effects of this superb ecclesiastical organization were not long in manifesting themselves. The legitimate resources of power were aided by every device of fraud, of oppression, of imposture, of forgery. A succession of able and unprincipled pontiffs fastened on Christendom a yoke which the intelligence and the science of subsequent generations have not even yet been able to entirely remove. The temporal supremacy of the Cæsars was re-established over Europe; the dogmas of Catholicism were preached in distant continents unknown to the ancient world; and a tyranny far more terrible in its consequences than that experienced under the cruel rule of Nero and Domitian was imposed upon the intellectual aspirations of mankind.