The historians' history of the world in twenty-five volumes, volume 17

by Unknown

But it was not in the destiny of the age in which he lived to permit such extensive benefits to progress without interruption. His brother Mstislav, the seventh son of Vladimir, a warrior distinguished in his wars against the Kossoges, discontented with the enlarged authority that the grand princedom vested in the hands of Iaroslav, transmitted to him a petition praying of him to cede to him a part of the fraternal appanage which he governed. Iaroslav partially assented to the request, by granting to his brother the small territory of Murom. This grant was insufficient to satisfy Mstislav, who immediately equipped an army and proceeded to wage an offensive war against the monarch. In this war the invader was successful, but he was not ungenerous in his triumph; for when he had vanquished the grand prince, he restored to him so large a portion of his possessions that the empire became equally divided between them. In this league of amity the brothers continued to govern for seven years, during the remainder of the life of Mstislav; and at his death the colossal empire, with all its appanages, reverted to the hands of Iaroslav.

It is in this part of his reign, and in this memorable period in the annals of the nation, that we find the first development of justice in Russian legislation, and the first application of philosophy to the management of public affairs. Although Iaroslav’s career commenced with war, and although he extended his arms into Finland, Livonia, Lithuania, and Bulgaria, and even penetrated into Byzantium, yet it was not by war that the glory of his name or the ability of his rule was to be accomplished. His wars could hardly claim the merits of conquests; and in some instances they terminated in such vague conclusions, that they resembled drawn battles on which much treasure had been lavished in vain. In Greece he was routed. He was driven before the soldiers of Sviatopolk, and forced to surrender at his own gates to the victorious Mstislav. His utmost successes amounted to preservation against aggression; and so indifferent was he to the barbarian mode of elevating the empire by wanton and hazardous expeditions into the neighbouring countries, that on most of those occasions he entrusted the command of his army to his lieutenants. It is necessary to explain that part of his character, in order that the loftiness of his nature may be the more clearly understood.

At this period the Russian Empire comprehended those enormous tracts that lie between the Volga and the lower Danube, and stretch from the Black Sea to the Baltic. This accumulation of territory was not the work of a progressive political system; it was not accomplished by the growth of a powerful government or by the persevering pursuit of co-operating interests, and the increasing circles of acquisition were in a constant state of dismemberment, separation, and recall. The surface of the land from the days of Rurik was overrun by revolutions. The marauder, legalised by his tribe, haunted the forest and devastated the populous places, carrying away with him plunder, or usurping authority wherever he remained. The feudal system, introduced by the Scandinavians as a provision for troublesome leaders, was carried to excess. The nominal head was disavowed and resisted at will; and the subordinate governments made war upon each other, or joined in schemes of rapine, with impunity. The maintenance of each fief seemed to depend upon civil war; and the office of the grand prince was not so much to govern the dominions he possessed, as to keep, if he could, the dominion he was called upon to govern.

Russia, combining these gigantic outlines of territory, was now, for the second time, united under one head; but, for the first time, under a head that could discern her necessities, and provide for them. Her civilisation was in progress, but it wanted the impetus of knowledge, and the control of law. The reign of the sword had done its work: what was required was the reign of justice and wisdom to improve and consolidate the triumphs and acquisitions of the barbarian era. In Iaroslav, Russia found a prince whose genius was adapted to her critical circumstances. He effectually raised her from obscurity, and placed her for a time amongst the family of European states. He made her church independent, increased the privileges of the people, facilitated the means of instruction, and elevated her national dignity by contracting domestic alliances with the most powerful countries. His sister was queen of Poland; his three daughters-in-law were Greek, German, and English princesses; and the queens of Norway, Hungary, and France were his daughters. But these were the least memorable evidences of his greatness. He gave Russia a code of laws, which was more valuable to her than the highest connections, or the most ambitious accessions of dominion.

IAROSLAV’S CODE OF LAWS

This code must be judged in reference to the times in which it was enacted and in comparison with the formless mass of confused precedents it superseded. The existence of commercial cities in Russia so far back as the invasion of Rurik, may be accepted as presumptive proof that there were not wanting some regulations to render individuals amenable to the common good. But these were merely the rude precepts of the hunting and agricultural nations matured into a stronger form, and adapted to the wants of the commercial community. When the Scandinavians subjugated the aborigines, the languages, customs, and laws of both fell into still greater confusion by admixture. When each was imperfect, it was unlikely that a forcible intermixture would have improved either, or led to the harmonious union of both. It is to be observed, too, that none of the nations that made up the population possessed written laws; so that whatever notions of legislation they entertained, were constantly liable to the fluctuations of capricious opinion, and were always subject to the interpretation of the strong over the weak. Where there were no records there was but little responsibility, and even that little was diminished by the character of the rulers and the lawlessness of the ruled. The exclusive attention of the princes being of necessity confined to the most effectual methods of preserving their sovereignties, of enlarging their domains, and of exacting tributes, it was natural that the unsystematic and crude usages that prevailed should fall into further contempt, and, instead of acquiring shape and consistency from experience, become still more oppressive, dark, and indecisive.

It was this matter of incongruities that Iaroslav cast out; supplying its place with a series of written laws, in which some sacrifices were made to popular customs, but which, on the whole, was an extraordinary boon to a people that, like mariners at sea without a compass, were tossed about in a tumult of uncertainty and perplexity. Had Iaroslav been a mere soldier, like the majority of his predecessors, he would have employed his talents in the field, and directed the enormous physical means at his command to the purposes of a wild and desolating ambition. But his policy was in advance of the heathen age: it restrained boundless licentiousness, created immunities, protected life and property, bestowed rewards, enacted punishments, established safeguards and facilities for trade, and expounded and confirmed those distinctions of ranks in which a community on a large scale recognises the elements of its permanency. He had the magnanimity to forego vulgar conquests for the higher conquest of prejudices and ancient habits. The people, probably fatigued with the restlessness of their mode of life, and yearning after repose and settlement, rendered now more necessary by the rapid increase of their numbers, received his laws with gratitude.

A short outline of the leading provisions of these laws will form a curious and valuable commentary upon the character of the grand prince, and the actual state of the people at this period (1018). The first article of the code empowers the friends of a murdered man to take satisfaction upon the murderer; constituting the law as the public avenger only in cases where there are no friends to take their vengeance in kind. In the event of there being no relatives to take the revenge into their own hands, the law goes on to enact that the assassin shall pay into the public treasury a certain fine, according to the rank of his victim. Thus, for the murder of a boyar, or thane of the prince, the mulct was fixed at the highest penalty of eighty grivnas;[8] for a page of the prince, his cook, or other domestics, for a merchant, for the sword-bearer of a boyar, and for every free Russian, without distinction of origin, forty grivnas; for a woman, half the usual fine: no fine for killing a slave; but if killed without sufficient cause, the value to be paid to the master: for a serf belonging to a boyar or free Russian, five grivnas to the owner; for the superintendent of a village, an artisan, schoolmaster, or nurse, twelve grivnas; for a female servant, six grivnas to the master, and twelve to the state.

From these penalties a correct estimate may be formed of the principles upon which the social fabric was erected. In all these provisions the rich were favoured above the poor, the strong above the weak. The life of a woman, because her utility in a barbarous community was rated according to its menial value, was fixed at half the worth of a man’s, to be proportioned according to her station. The murder of a slave was not visited with any penalty whatever; the exception constituting, in fact, the privilege to kill a slave at pleasure. Slavery was carried to extremity in Russia. Prisoners of war and their posterity were condemned to perpetual slavery; the poverty of the soil, and the oppression of its lords, forced many to sell their freedom for limited periods; insolvent debtors became slaves by law; and all freemen who married slaves unconditionally, participated in their servitude.