The great contest of the thirteenth century between the Empire and the Holy See for the mastery of the world derived its origin from the barbarian occupation of Italy. The imperial dignity of the Cæsars embodied, as is well known, not only its supreme exercise, but the prestige and the mysterious power which attached to the place of Pontifex Maximus, the prototype of the Papacy. That power had been solemnly confirmed, and materially enlarged, by the ambition and politic measures of Constantine. The occasional employment of the Bishop of Rome as arbiter of the differences between the Sees of Constantinople and Alexandria had magnified the importance and insensibly extended the jurisdiction of his office. Aspiring prelates, who held their court on the banks of the classic Tiber, in sight of the stupendous memorials of ancient civilization, soon began to arrogate to themselves a preponderance in the determination of secular matters to which their comparatively obscure predecessors had advanced no claim. The texts of Scripture were invoked and interpreted to confirm their pretensions. In addition to the alleged vicarious sovereignty vested in them by the traditional choice of the Saviour, they asserted that the privileges and authority enjoyed by the Pontifex Maximus were theirs by the right of inheritance. They insisted, moreover, that as celestial matters were of far greater importance to mankind than any connected with the affairs of a transitory life, the sacredness of their exalted position conferred extraordinary prerogatives, and that the imperial power was subordinate to, and, under some circumstances, actually merged into, the pontifical dignity. By thus shrewdly taking advantage of every circumstance which could either strengthen its influence or extend its jurisdiction, the Holy See subjected to its tyrannical and irresponsible sway a far more extensive and populous territory than had ever paid reluctant tribute to the masters of imperial Rome. Excommunication, anathema, and interdict, the means by which this tremendous authority was enforced, were moral instruments which appealed with irresistible force to the fears of a superstitious age.
The barbarian invasions, which swept away the last vestige of imperial greatness, introduced the heretical doctrines of Arius into Southern Europe. The religious antagonism resulting from the incessant clash of adverse opinions was perpetuated by the mutual jealousies of king and bishop, until the accession of Charlemagne practically united in the hands of that emperor the temporal and sacerdotal powers,—the dominion of the earth, and the control of an order whose members were universally regarded as mediators with heaven. With his death the exercise of the exalted prerogative of spiritual jurisdiction reverted to the Papacy. The claim to its enjoyment was never afterwards successfully urged by any monarch who was entitled, by right of inheritance, to the dignities and privileges of the Carlovingian empire. By degrees, the resistless influence of intellectual superiority, quietly, but none the less powerfully exerted, began to manifest itself. It was to the fact that the Church monopolized all the learning of early mediæval times, even more than to the reverence that attached to the holy calling of its ministers, that its boundless power over the most truculent and merciless barbarians is to be attributed. A mysterious and exaggerated importance was ascribed to that profession whose members held communion with past ages; who called down the blessings or the maledictions of celestial beings in a tongue unknown to the vulgar; who communicated, in unintelligible characters, with the learned and the wise of distant nations; and who, in the seclusion of the laboratory, indulged in pursuits condemned by the canons of their faith, but occasionally productive of results whose character, remarkable for that epoch, not infrequently acquired for the monkish chemist the unenviable and perilous title of conjuror. The literary and scientific attainments acquired in the cloister bore, however, no comparison to the erudition of those countries where Saracen energy and munificence had long promoted the exercise and expansion of the highest faculties of the human intellect. The knowledge possessed by the clergy was only extensive by contrast with the impenetrable ignorance by which they were surrounded, and which it was their interest to diligently propagate and maintain.
The era which witnessed the climax of Papal supremacy was coincident with the most thoroughly concerted and menacing attempt at its overthrow ever directed by any secular potentate. The birth of Frederick II. preceded the election of Innocent III. to the Holy See only three years. In the deadly struggle that arose between these two mighty antagonists,—a struggle which was far more political than religious, and whose tempting prize was the dominion of the earth,—the influence of the Saracen was a powerful, and, in many instances, a predominant factor. Moslem laws, institutions, and customs had for centuries, amidst communities hostile in origin and belief, survived alike the existence of their own dynasties and the domination of their conquerors. Tribal dissensions and hereditary enmity had prompted and facilitated the destruction of the splendid Mohammedan empire in Sicily. In its turn, the Norman kingdom, after a prolonged and stormy existence, in which the Moorish tributaries played no inconsiderable part, lost its identity; and, by the marriage of Constance, the mother of Frederick II., with Henry VI., was merged into the German Empire. During the great political and moral revolutions which disposed of crowns and repeatedly changed the destinies of the island, the Arab element of the population maintained an undisputed superiority in arts, in commerce, in literature,—in short, in all professions and employments save that of war alone. The semi-barbarian conqueror, whose only passports to distinction were the dexterity with which he wielded lance and sword and the undaunted courage with which he faced tenfold odds, early recognized the advantages of that intellectual power which enabled his Moorish vassals to cope with, and overreach, in both trade and diplomacy, the astute politicians of Christian Italy. This exotic population, notwithstanding the successive calamities which had afflicted it, exhibited through long periods of time no extraordinary diminution of numbers, a fact no doubt largely attributable to the prevalence of polygamous customs. In the centre of the island many Moorish settlements, defended by impregnable fortresses, subsisting by pastoral occupations, and whose comparative poverty offered little inducement to invasion, remained in tranquillity and in the enjoyment of a rustic independence. In the great seaports, on the other hand, the Moslem tributaries retained under foreign domination all of the refinement and much of the splendor which had distinguished the luxurious court of the emirs. In these vast emporiums, where were constantly assembled the merchants of every Christian and of every Mohammedan state, a numerous, motley, and industrious people pursued, without oppression or hinderance, all the avocations of thriving mercantile communities. The peculiar adaptability of the genius of the Norman to novel social and political conditions, a quality which was the main source of his prosperity and greatness, was never more prominently displayed than after the conquest which transferred the sceptre of Sicily from one race of foreign adventurers to another. No more striking antagonism of national customs, religious prejudices, habits, and traditions could be conceived than that existing between the victor and the vanquished. One came from the borders of the Arctic Circle; the original home of the other was in the Torrid Zone. Both traced their lineage to tribes steeped in barbarism and idolatry; but the Norman, though he had changed his system of worship, still retained many of its objectionable and degrading features, while the Arab professed a creed that regarded with undisguised abhorrence the adoration of images and the invocation of saints. In the arts of civilization, there was no corresponding advance which could suggest resemblance or justify comparison. Poverty, ignorance, ferocity, still remained the characteristics of the Norman, as when, with a handful of resolute companions, he scattered to the winds the armies of the Sicilian Mussulman. The latter, however, if inferior in endurance and martial energy to his conqueror, was possessed of accomplishments which justly entitled him to a prominent rank in the community of nations. No circumstance of honor, of distinction, of inventive genius, was wanting to exalt his character or magnify his reputation. The fame of his military achievements had filled the world. His commercial relations had made his name familiar to and respected by remote and jealous races, to whom the Christian kingdoms of Europe were unknown. His civil polity was admirably adapted to the character and necessities of the people its laws were intended to govern. Under those laws, administered by a succession of great princes, Moslem society had become opulent, polished, and dissolute beyond all example, but eventually and inevitably enervated and decadent. Political and social disorganization had not, however, entirely destroyed the prestige earned by ages of military glory and intellectual pre-eminence. The schools of Cordova had been swept away by hordes of African fanatics. Her libraries had been scattered or destroyed. Her incomparable palaces had been levelled with the ground or had succumbed to the gradual decay to which they had been abandoned by ferocious chieftains, alike ignorant of the arts and indifferent to the claims of civilization. But the glory of the fallen metropolis had been reflected upon the provincial capitals of a distracted and dismembered monarchy. Malaga, Granada, Toledo, Seville, were still celebrated as seats of learning; civil war had interrupted but not extinguished the pursuit of science; a taste for letters counteracted in some degree the thirst for blood which prompted the atrocities of tribal hate and hostile faction; and the chivalrous intercourse established at intervals between the two races contending for national superiority afforded a happy if a deceptive image of affluence and security. ‘The Sicilian Mohammedans, while the vicissitudes and calamities of their history presented in miniature a general resemblance to those experienced by their brethren of the Spanish Peninsula, were never subjected to such repeated and overwhelming disasters as fell to the lot of the subjects of the Ommeyade dynasty and of the principalities which inherited its enmities, and the shattered fragments of its once vast and populous but cumbersome empire. The Norman acquisition of Sicily, unlike the Spanish Reconquest, was accomplished with surprising ease and rapidity. In the former instance there was but little of that indiscriminate ferocity which was characteristic of the conflicts of the Middle Ages, and especially of these where religious interests were directly involved. The experience of the conquerors—obtained in many lands—enabled them to appreciate the value of the monuments of a highly developed civilization, whose promoters were soon to pass under their sceptre. For this reason there was no ruthless spoliation of cities, no indiscriminate devastation of a fertile country which had been reclaimed by infinite toil and perseverance from an unpromising prospect of marsh, ravine, and precipice. The tangible results of three hundred years of national progress and culture were transmitted, with but little impairment, to the victorious foreigner. These advantages were at once grasped and appropriated with an avidity absolutely phenomenal in a people whose career had been dictated by the predatory instincts of the bandit, and whose manners had been formed amidst the license of the camp, the superstition of the cloister, and the carnage of the field.
Norman Sicily exhibited, to all intents and purposes, a prolongation, under happier auspices, of that dominion to which the island owed its prosperity and its fame. The influence of Moorish thrift, capacity, and skill was everywhere manifest and acknowledged. Its silent operation facilitated its progress and increased its power. The maritime interests of the island were in the hands of the Moslems; they controlled the finances; they negotiated treaties; to them was largely confided the administration of justice and the education of youth. Their integrity was acknowledged even by those whose practices appeared most unfavorable by contrast; their versatile talents not infrequently raised them to the highest and most responsible posts of the Norman court. That court is declared by contemporary historians to have equalled in splendor and culture those of Cairo and Bagdad. This comparison, while the highest encomium that could be pronounced upon its grandeur and brilliancy, also denoted unmistakably the Oriental influence which pervaded it. Great dignitaries, with pompous titles and retinues imposing in numbers and magnificence, exercised the principal employments of the crown. A rigid system of subordination and accountability was established, governing the conduct of the minor officials in their relations to their superiors and to the sovereign. The gradations in rank of these civil magistrates were numerous, and their respective duties plainly and accurately defined. The system of fiefs had never obtained in Northern Italy, owing to the extraordinary growth of maritime enterprise, the mutual jealousies engendered by commercial rivalry, the prejudices of the Lombard population, hostile to the restraints and abuses which the adoption of that system implied, the foundation of many independent and wealthy communities,—conditions naturally incompatible with the maintenance of an establishment based upon obligations of military service and baronial protection. In Apulia and Northern Sicily, however, Norman domination transplanted, to some extent, the laws and customs of Western Europe, which found a congenial soil in provinces already familiar with the exactions of Saracen despotism. But the feudal system of Norman rule had lost much of its original severity, and had been curtailed of those oppressive privileges with difficulty endured even in countries for centuries accustomed to the suffering and degradation they entailed. These modifications were so extensive and radical as to be almost revolutionary in their nature. The disputes of lord and vassal, of noble and suzerain, were decided by a court of judicature. Villeinage, as recognized elsewhere in Europe, was practically unknown. While the villein was attached to the glebe and passed with its transfer, he could not be persecuted with impunity; he could own property and alienate it, make wills, ransom his services, and, in many other respects, exercise the rights of a freeman, while still subject to the disabilities of a serf. The days of compulsory labor enjoined upon him were prescribed by law. His testimony was admissible in the trial of causes; he could not be illegally deprived of the results of his industry when his duties to his lord had been faithfully discharged; and, under certain circumstances, he was permitted to enter the clerical profession, whose opportunities might open to an aspiring zealot a career of the highest distinction.
The barbarian prejudices of the Norman conqueror survived in many institutions inherited from ages of gross superstition and ignorance. Among these were the absurd and iniquitous trials by fire, water, and judicial combat, prevalent in societies dominated partly by priestcraft and partly by the sword. But more correct ideas of the true character of evidence and its application, acquired from association with a people familiar with the codes of Justinian and Mohammed, eventually mitigated the evils produced by such irrational procedure; and, while not entirely abandoned, its most offensive features were gradually suffered to become obsolete. In other respects, the administration of justice—for the excellence of its system, for the rapidity with which trials were conducted, for the opportunity afforded the litigant for appeal and reversal of judgment—was remarkable. Invested with a sacred character, the judge, in the honor of his official position, was inferior to the king alone. His person was inviolable. No one might question his motives or dispute his authority under penalty of sacrilege. The head of the supreme court of the kingdom, by which all questions taken on appeal from the inferior tribunals were finally adjudicated, was called the Grand Justiciary. His powers and dignity claimed and received the highest consideration. None but men conspicuously eminent for learning and integrity were raised to this exalted office. The Grand Justiciary, although frequently of plebeian extraction, took precedence of the proud nobility, whose titles, centuries old and gained in Egypt and Palestine, had already become historic. A silken banner, the emblem of his office, was carried before him. In public assemblies and royal audiences he sat at the left hand of the sovereign. Only the constable, of all the officials of the crown, approached him in rank. These unusual honors paid to a dignitary whose title to respect was due, not to personal prowess or to hereditary distinction, but to the reverence attaching to his employment, indicate a great advance in the character of a people which, but a few years before, acknowledged no law but that of physical superiority, no tribunal but that of arms. In the other departments of government—in finance, in legislation, in the regulations of commerce, in the protection and encouragement of agriculture, in the maintenance of order—the Norman domination in Sicily presented an example of advanced civilization to be seen nowhere else in Europe, except in the Moorish principalities of Spain. The system of taxation not only embraced regular assessments, but authorized such extraordinary contributions as might be required for the construction of great public works or demanded by the exigencies of war. A powerful and well-equipped navy enforced the authority and protected the rights of the Norman kings in the Mediterranean. In the classification of orders, ecclesiastics were not, as elsewhere, granted extraordinary privileges by reason of their sacred profession. Those of rank were enrolled among the feudatories; the inferior clergy were relegated to the intermediate grade of subjects placed between the noble and the serf; all were, equally with the laity, responsible for infractions of the laws. The monarch was the head of the Church under the Pope; the office of Papal legate, which he usurped, was assumed, by a convenient fiction, to have been transmitted by inheritance; he exercised the rights of the erection of bishoprics, the presentation of benefices, the translation of prelates, the exemption of abbeys; he imposed taxes on the priesthood, and, when occasion demanded, did not hesitate to seize and appropriate property set aside for the uses of public worship. In his dominions, the Pope, while the nominal head of Christendom, was merely a personage of secondary importance, with little real influence and with no prestige save that derived from his venerated title and from his residence in that city which had once given laws to the world. The Papacy, it is true, had not yet fully established those portentous claims to empire which subsequently brought the most remote countries under its jurisdiction; but its aspiring pontiffs had already laid the foundations of their despotism; and this defiance of their authority, at the very gates of the capital of Christendom, was fraught with the most vital consequences to the future peace and welfare of Europe.
No people presented greater variety in manners, language, habits, and religion than that of Norman Sicily. The mingling of strange tongues, the constant recurrence of picturesque costumes, denoted the presence of many distinct nationalities. In general, although close relations were maintained and intermarriages were common, the different races were distributed in separate quarters and districts, and existed as castes. Greek, Latin, Hebrew, Arabic, as well as the harsh and barbaric dialects of Germany and France, were spoken; the laws of each nation were suffered to prevail, except when they conflicted with the supreme authority; enforced proselytism and religious persecution were unknown; and, in a society of such a diversified character, it was impossible that national prejudice could obtain a permanent foothold. The tendency of public opinion, as well as the policy of the government, was towards the indulgence of religious and intellectual freedom. In no respect was this liberality so apparent as in the treatment of the Jews. Elsewhere in Europe they were considered the legitimate prey of every oppressor; liable to be transferred by entire communities, like so many cattle, from one petty tyrant to another; robbed and tortured with impunity; incapacitated from invoking the protection of the laws; rendered powerless by centuries of systematic oppression to exert the right of self-defence or to successfully appeal to arms in an age of anarchy and violence. In Sicily, under the Normans, an enlightened public sentiment dictated the measures pursued in the treatment of an enterprising but unfortunate people. Their usefulness to the state was recognized by the immunities they enjoyed. For generations, no badge of infamy or servitude made them conspicuous in the crowded streets; no onerous taxes were laid upon them as a class; they shared, in large measure, the rights and privileges of other citizens; no tribunal was permitted to discriminate against them in the dispensation of justice; they were not prohibited from exercising the profession of bankers, but the rate of interest they might exact was limited to ten per cent.
The lustre of Saracen civilization was rather heightened than tarnished by the Norman conquest. The stability and confidence which the rule of the victors produced more than compensated for the damage inevitably resulting from their military operations. The supremacy of law was everywhere established. Tribal animosity, which had been the curse of Moslem society, was suppressed, if not entirely eradicated. The seaports increased rapidly in extent and opulence. Palaces of equal dimensions and beauty, but more substantial in their construction, replaced the airy and picturesque villas which had displayed the taste of the Moorish princes. Massive stairways afforded access to the broad stone quays encumbered with the merchandise of the Mediterranean. The narrow and tortuous thoroughfares of the Orient gave way to wide and well-paved avenues adapted to the commercial necessities of a numerous trading population. As formerly, under Greek and Moslem, Palermo exhibited, in the highest degree, the influence and progress of the arts of civilization. Its citadel, defended by every resource of military science, was of such extent as to merit of itself the appellation of a city. Here were situated the warehouses, the bazaars, the baths, the markets, the churches, and the mosques. Above it rose the castle reared by the Normans, the solid blocks which composed its walls being covered with arabesques and inscriptions. The residences of the merchants and the nobility were conspicuous for their number and elegance; the royal palace was in itself a marvel of architectural grandeur and sybaritic luxury. But the edifices which struck the imagination of the stranger most forcibly were the two great shrines respectively allotted to Christian and to Moslem worship. Sectarian rivalry had exhausted itself in their construction and adornment. The mosque was one of the most superb in all Islam. Its beauty was enhanced by its rich tapestries, and by the exquisite coloring and gilding it exhibited in the delicate carvings which embellished its interior. But grand and beautiful as it was, the Christian cathedral was generally conceded to surpass it in those material attractions which appeal most strongly to the senses of the enthusiastic and the devout. Arab writers have vied with each other in celebrating the majesty and splendor of this famous temple. The combined skill of the Moorish and the Byzantine artist had been laid under contribution in its embellishment. The walls were incrusted with gold, whose dazzling brilliancy was relieved by panels of precious marble of various colors bordered with foliage of green mosaic. The columns were sculptured with floral ornaments, interspersed with inscriptions in Cufic characters. The lofty cupola, covered with glistening tiles, was one of the landmarks of the capital, and, projected against the cloudless sky, was the most prominent object which caught the eye of the expectant mariner. Around the city, rising in terraces, like the seats of an amphitheatre, were the suburbs, verdant with the luxuriant vegetation of every country that could be reached by the enterprise of man, through whose leafy screen appeared at intervals the gayly painted villas of the merchant princes or the sumptuous and imposing palaces of the Norman aristocracy.
Amidst the numerous measures originated and brought to maturity by the new domination, it is remarkable that no especial encouragement was afforded to institutions of learning. A tradition exists of the academy of the great Count Roger, but it is only a tradition. No national university was founded to perpetuate the fame or to exalt the benefits of regal patronage. No general plan of promoting the education of the masses was inaugurated. The Jewish and Saracen schools, however, still survived; they were often the recipients of royal generosity, and were resorted to by such Christians as were desirous of profiting by the valuable instruction they afforded. As elsewhere in Christendom, the clergy were the general depositaries of knowledge,—an advantage which they thoroughly understood, and were by no means willing to voluntarily relinquish. In one respect alone their power was seriously curtailed. The spurious medicine of the time, as practised under the sanction of the Holy See, had raised up a herd of ignorant and mercenary ecclesiastical charlatans. These operated by means of chants, relics, and incense; and their enormous gains were one of the chief sources of revenue to the parish and the monastery, and a corresponding burden on the people. King Roger abolished this abuse, and required an examination, by experienced physicians, of all candidates for the profession of medicine and surgery, restricting those whose superstition was ineradicable or whose learning was deficient to the clandestine ministrations of the shrine and the confessional.
In the subjugated race, which had inherited the wisdom and experience of many ages and peoples, is to be discerned the principal, and indeed the indispensable, factor of Norman prosperity and civilization. Its characteristics had been deeply impressed upon the various regulations which controlled the destinies of the island; they reappeared in the military organization, in the civil polity, in the social customs, in the architectural designs, even in the religious ceremonial, of the conquerors. The invaders were but a handful in number; but the moral influence they wielded, through invincible valor, prodigious personal strength, and inflexible tenacity of purpose, at once gave them almost undisputed ascendency. These qualities, however, could not, unaided, found or maintain a flourishing state eminent in those arts which contribute to the welfare and opulence of nations. Oriental craft, refinement, and learning were able, however, to supply the deficiencies of whose existence the rude and unpolished Western adventurers were thoroughly cognizant. The Moslem stood high in the confidence and favor of the Norman princes. Quick to appreciate and meet the exigencies of every occasion, his prowess was invaluable in the suppression of anarchy and the establishment of order. Saracen cavalry were enrolled by thousands in the Norman armies. Saracen councillors stood in the shadow of the throne. Saracens collected taxes and administered the public revenues. They conducted, with the artful diplomacy characteristic of their race, important negotiations with foreign powers. Their religious assemblies were protected from intrusion and insult with the same solicitude which assured the inviolability of Christian worship. The unobstructed enjoyment and disposal of real and personal property was accorded to them by the laws. Their impress on the customs of social and domestic life was deep and permanent. The prevailing language of court and city alike was Arabic. Eunuchs, in flowing robes and snowy turbans, swarmed in the palaces of king, noble, and bishop. Dark-eyed beauties of Moorish lineage filled the harems of the martial and licentious aristocracy. The kadi, retaining the insignia and authority of his original official employment, was an important member of the Sicilian judiciary. He not only determined the causes of his countrymen, but was frequently the trusted adviser of the monarch. From the summits of a hundred minarets which seemed to pierce the skies, the muezzin, shrilly intoning the prescribed verses of the Koran, summoned the followers of Mohammed to prayer. As was Palermo, such were the other Sicilian cities,—Messina, Syracuse, Enna, Agrigentum.
Moslem institutions, with the powerful influences resulting from their universal adoption, thus maintained an overwhelming preponderance throughout the provinces of the Norman kingdom. Even in Apulia and Calabria, the original seat of the new dynasty, the same conditions prevailed. The centre of the Papal power and of the various states subject to its immediate jurisdiction—a jurisdiction already important, but not as yet exercised with undisputed authority—could not fail to be profoundly impressed by the proximity of this anomalous empire; where Christian symbols and Koranic legends were blended in the embellishment of cathedrals; where the crucifixion and the mottoes of Mohammedan rulers were impressed together upon the coinage of the realm; where eminent prelates owed investiture, rendered homage, and paid tribute to the secular power; where Moslem dignitaries not infrequently took precedence of Papal envoys; and the hereditary enemies of Christendom fought valiantly under the standard of the Cross. Nor was the effect of this ominous example confined to localities where daily familiarity had caused it to lose its novelty. The traders who visited the remote and semi-barbarous courts of Europe, the Crusaders who from time to time enjoyed the hospitality of the Sicilian cities, the returned adventurers who had served in the armies of the princely House of De Hauteville, all spread, far and wide, exaggerated and romantic accounts of the strange and sacrilegious customs of the Norman monarchy. Ecclesiastics crossed themselves with dismay when they heard of the honors lavished upon infidels, whose co-religionists had profaned the Holy Sepulchre, evoking gigantic expeditions which had depopulated entire provinces and drained the wealth of credulous and fanatic Europe. Others, whom study and reflection had made wise beyond the age in which they lived, saw, with open indifference and concealed delight, in this defiance and contempt of Popish tyranny, the dawn of a brighter era, the prospect of the ultimate emancipation of the human mind. The progress of the mental and moral changes which affected European society, acting through the intervention of Norman influence in the political and religious life of the continent, was gradual, indeterminate, and long imperceptible, but incessant and powerful. The universal deficiency of the means of information, the dearth of educational facilities, which promoted the dependence of the masses upon the only class capable of instructing and improving them, the terrible penalties visited upon heresy, deferred for nearly three hundred years the inevitable outbreak of an intellectual revolution. The principles on which that revolution was based, although at first discussed furtively and in secret, in time became so popular as to endanger the empire of the Church and to seriously impair its prestige.