THE
CAMBRIDGE
MODERN HISTORY
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Volume I: The Renaissance
PREFACE.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE, by Mandell Creighton
CHAPTER I. THE AGE OF DISCOVERY, by Edward John Payne
CHAPTER II. THE NEW WORLD, by Edward John Payne
CHAPTER III. THE OTTOMAN CONQUEST, by J.B. Bury
CHAPTER IV. ITALY AND HER INVADERS, by Stanley Leathes
CHAPTER V. FLORENCE (I): SAVONAROLA, by Edward Armstrong
CHAPTER VI. FLORENCE (II): MACHIAVELLI, by Laurence Burd
CHAPTER VII. ROME AND THE TEMPORAL POWER, by Richard Garnett
CHAPTER VIII. VENICE, by Horatio Brown
CHAPTER IX. GERMANY AND THE EMPIRE, by T.F. Tout
CHAPTER X. HUNGARY AND THE SLAVONIC KINGDOMS, by Emil Reich
CHAPTER XI. THE CATHOLIC KINGS, by Henry Clarke
CHAPTER XII. FRANCE, by Stanley Leathes
CHAPTER XIII. THE NETHERLANDS, by Adolphus Ward
CHAPTER XIV. THE EARLY TUDORS, by James Gairdner
CHAPTER XV. ECONOMIC CHANGE, by William Cunningham
CHAPTER XVI. THE CLASSICAL RENAISSANCE, by Richard Jebb
CHAPTER XVII. THE CHRISTIAN RENAISSANCE, by M.R. James
CHAPTER XVIII. CATHOLIC EUROPE, by William Barry
CHAPTER XIX. THE EVE OF THE REFORMATION, by Henry Lea
Volume II: The Reformation, the End of the Middle Ages
PREFACE.
CHAPTER I. MEDICEAN ROME., by Franz Kraus
CHAPTER II. - HABSBURG AND VALOIS (I), by Stanley Leathes
CHAPTER III. - HABSBURG AND VALOIS (II), by Stanley Leathes
CHAPTER IV - LUTHER, by Thomas Lindsay
CHAPTER V - NATIONAL OPPOSITION TO ROME IN GERMANY, by Albert Pollard
CHAPTER VI. - SOCIAL REVOLUTION AND CATHOLIC REACTION IN GERMANY, by Albert Pollard
CHAPTER VII. - THE CONFLICT OF CREEDS AND PARTIES IN GERMANY, by Albert Pollard
CHAPTER VIII - RELIGIOUS WAR IN GERMANY, by Albert Pollard
CHAPTER IX - THE REFORMATION IN FRANCE, by Arthur Tilley
CHAPTER X - THE HELVETIC REFORMATION, by James Whitney
CHAPTER XI - CALVIN AND THE REFORMED CHURCH, by Andrew Fairbairn
CHAPTER XII - THE CATHOLIC SOUTH, by William Collins
CHAPTER XIII - HENRY VIII, by James Gairdner
CHAPTER XIV - THE REFORMATION UNDER EDWARD VI, by Albert Pollard
CHAPTER XV - PHILIP AND MARY, by James Mullinger
CHAPTER XVI - THE ANGLICAN SETTLEMENT AND THE SCOTTISH REFORMATION, by F.W. Maitland
CHAPTER XVII - THE SCANDINAVIAN NORTH, by William Collins
CHAPTER XVIII - THE CHURCH AND REFORM, by Reginald Laurence
CHAPTER XIX - TENDENCIES OF EUROPEAN THOUGHT IN THE AGE OF THE REFORMATION, by Andrew Fairbairn
Volume III The Wars of Religion
CHAPTER I. THE WARS OF RELIGION IN FRANCE, by Arthur Butler
CHAPTER II. FRENCH HUMANISM AND MONTAIGNE, by Arthur Tilley
CHAPTER III. THE CATHOLIC REACTION, AND THE VALOIS AND BÄTHORY ELECTIONS, IN POLAND, by Robert Nisbet Bain
CHAPTER IV. THE HEIGHT OF THE OTTOMAN POWER, by Moritz Brosch
CHAPTER V. THE EMPIRE UNDER FERDINAND I AND MAXIMILIAN II, by Adolphus Ward
CHAPTER VI. THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS, by George Edmundson
CHAPTER VII. WILLIAM THE SILENT, by George Edmundson
CHAPTER VIII. MARY STEWART, by Thomas Law
CHAPTER IX. THE ELIZABETHAN NAVAL WAR WITH SPAIN, by John Laughton
CHAPTER X. THE LAST YEARS OF ELIZABETH, by Sidney Lee
CHAPTER XI. THE ELIZABETHAN AGE OF ENGLISH LITERATURE, by Sidney Lee
CHAPTER XII. TUSCANY AND SAVOY, by Edward Armstrong
CHAPTER XIII. ROME UNDER SIXTUS V, by Ugo Balzani
CHAPTER XIV. THE END OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE, by Arthur Butler
CHAPTER XV. SPAIN UNDER PHILIP II, by Martin Hume
CHAPTER XVI. SPAIN UNDER PHILIP III, by Martin Hume
CHAPTER XVII. BRITAIN UNDER JAMES I, by Samuel Gairdner
CHAPTER XVIII. IRELAND, TO THE SETTLEMENT OF ULSTER, by Robert Dunlop
CHAPTER XIX. THE DUTCH REPUBLIC, by George Edmundson
CHAPTER XX. HENRY IV OF FRANCE, by Stanley Leathes
CHAPTER XXI. THE EMPIRE UNDER RUDOLF II, by Adolphus Ward
CHAPTER XXII. POLITICAL THOUGHT IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY, by John Neville Figgis
Volume IV: The 30 Years’ War
CHAPTER I. THE OUTBREAK OF THE THIRTY YEARS’ WAR, by Adolphus Ward
CHAPTER II. THE VALTELLINE (1603-39), by Horatio Brown
CHAPTER III. THE PROTESTANT COLLAPSE. (1620-30.) I. THE BOHEMIAN AND THE PALATINATE WAR. (1620-3.), by Adolphus Ward
CHAPTER IV. RICHELIEU, by Stanley Leathes
CHAPTER V. THE VASA IN SWEDEN AND POLAND. (1560-1630.), by W.F. Reddaway
CHAPTER VI. GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS. (1630-2.), by Adolphus Ward
CHAPTER VII. WALLENSTEIN AND BERNARD OF WEIMAR. 1. WALLENSTEIN’S END. (1632-4.), by Adolphus Ward
CHAPTER VIII. THE CONSTITUTIONAL STRUGGLE IN ENGLAND. (1625-40.), by George Prothero
CHAPTER IX. THE FIRST TWO YEARS OF THE LONG PARLIAMENT. (1640-2.), by George Prothero
CHAPTER X. THE FIRST CIVIL WAR, 1642-7, by George Prothero
CHAPTER XI. PRESBYTERIANS AND INDEPENDENTS. (1645-9.), by George Prothero
CHAPTER XII. THE WESTMINSTER ASSEMBLY, by William Shaw
CHAPTER XIII. THE LATER YEARS OF THE THIRTY YEARS’ WAR. (1635-48.), by Adolphus Ward
CHAPTER XIV. THE PEACE OF WESTPHALIA, by Adolphus Ward
CHAPTER XV. THE COMMONWEALTH AND THE PROTECTORATE. (1649-59.), by William Shaw
CHAPTER XVI. THE NAVY OF THE COMMONWEALTH AND THE FIRST DUTCH WAR, by Joseph Tanner
CHAPTER XVIII. IRELAND. FROM THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER TO THE CROMWELLIAN SETTLEMENT. (1611-59.), by Robert Dunlop
CHAPTER XIX. ANARCHY AND THE RESTORATION. (1659-60.), by Charles Firth
CHAPTER XX. THE SCANDINAVIAN NORTH. (1559-1660.), by William Reddaway
CHAPTER XXI. MAZARIN, by Stanley Leathes
CHAPTER XXII. SPAIN AND SPANISH ITALY UNDER PHILIP III AND IV, by Martin Hume
CHAPTER XXIII. PAPAL POLICY, 1590-1648, by Mortiz Brosch
CHAPTER XXIV. FREDERICK HENRY, PRINCE OF ORANGE, by George Edmundson
CHAPTER XXV. THE FANTASTIC SCHOOL OF ENGLISH POETRY, by Arthur Clutton-Brock
Volume V: The Age of Louis XIV
CHAPTER I. THE GOVERNMENT OF LOUIS XIV. (1661-1715.), by Arthur Grant
CHAPTER II. THE FOREIGN POLICY OF LOUIS XIV. (1661-97.), by Arthur Hassall
CHAPTER III. FRENCH SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE AND ITS EUROPEAN INFLUENCE, by Emile Faguet
CHAPTER IV. THE GALLICAN CHURCH, by Stafford Northcote
CHAPTER V. THE STEWART RESTORATION, by Charles Firth
CHAPTER VI. THE LITERATURE OF THE ENGLISH RESTORATION, INCLUDING MILTON, by Harold Child
CHAPTER VII. THE ADMINISTRATIONS OF JOHN DE WITT AND WILLIAM OF ORANGE. (1651-88.), by George Edmundson
CHAPTER VIII. THE ANGLO-DUTCH WARS. (1) NAVAL ADMINISTRATION UNDER CHARLES II AND JAMES II, by Joseph Tanner
CHAPTER IX. THE POLICY OF CHARLES II AND JAMES II. (1667-87.), by John Pollock
CHAPTER X. THE REVOLUTION AND THE REVOLUTION SETTLEMENT IN GREAT BRITAIN, by Harold Temperley, Peter Brown, and Robert Dunlop
CHAPTER XI. RELIGIOUS TOLERATION IN ENGLAND, by Henry Gwatkin
CHAPTER XII. AUSTRIA, POLAND, AND TURKEY, by Richard Lodge
CHAPTER XIII. THE TREATIES OF PARTITION AND THE SPANISH SUCCESSION, by Wolfgang Michael
CHAPTER XV. PARTY GOVERNMENT UNDER QUEEN ANNE, by Harold Temperley
CHAPTER XVI. RUSSIA. (1462-1682.), by J.B. Bury
CHAPTER XVII. PETER THE GREAT AND HIS PUPILS. (1689-1730.), by Robert Nisbet Bain
CHAPTER XVIII. THE SCANDINAVIAN KINGDOMS, by William Reddaway
CHAPTER XIX. CHARLES XII AND THE GREAT NORTHERN WAR, by Robert Nisbet Bain
CHAPTER XX. THE ORIGINS OF THE KINGDOM OP PRUSSIA, by Adolphus Ward
CHAPTER XXI. THE GREAT ELECTOR AND THE FIRST PRUSSIAN KING, by Adolphus Ward
CHAPTER XXII. THE COLONIES AND INDIA, by Ernest Benians
CHAPTER XXIII. EUROPEAN SCIENCE IN THE SEVENTEENTH AND EARLIER YEARS OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES, by Walter Ball and Michael Foster
CHAPTER XXIV. LATITUDINARIANISM AND PIETISM, by Moritz Kaufmann
THE plan of this History, as is indicated on the title-page, was conceived and mapped out by the late Lord Acton. To him is due, in its main features, the division of the work into the volumes and chapters of which it consists; and it was at his request that most of the contributors agreed to take a specified part in the execution of his scheme. In the brief statement which follows, intended to set forth the principles on which that scheme is based, we have adhered scrupulously to the spirit of his design, and in more than one passage we have made use of his own words. We had hoped during the progress of this work to be encouraged by his approval, and perhaps to be occasionally aided by his counsel; but this hope has been taken away by an event, sudden at the last, which is deeply mourned by his University and by all students of history.
The aim of this work is to record, in the way most useful to the greatest number of readers, the fulness of knowledge in the field of modern history which the nineteenth century has bequeathed to its successor. The idea of a universal Modern History is not in itself new; it has already been successfully carried into execution both in France and Germany. But we believe that the present work may, without presumption, aim higher than its predecessors, and may seek to be something more than a useful compilation or than a standard work of reference.
By a universal Modern History we mean something distinct from the combined History of all countries—in other words, we mean a narrative which is not a mere string of episodes, but displays a continuous development. It moves in a succession to which the nations are subsidiary. Their stories will accordingly be told here, not for their own sakes, but in reference and subordination to a higher process, and according to the time and the degree in which they influence the common fortunes of mankind.
A mere reproduction of accepted facts, even when selected in accordance with this principle, would not attain the end which we have in view. In some instances, where there is nothing new to tell, the contributors to this History must console themselves with the words of Thiers, “On est déjà bien assez nouveau par cela seul qu’on est vrai”; but it is not often that their labours will be found to have been confined to a recasting of existing material. Great additions have of late been made to our knowledge of the past; the long conspiracy against the revelation of truth has gradually given way; and competing historians all over the civilised world have been zealous to take advantage of the change. The printing of archives has kept pace with the admission of enquirers; and the total mass of new matter, which the last half-century has accumulated, amounts to many thousands of volumes. In view of changes and of gains such as these, it has become impossible for the historical writer of the present age to trust without reserve even to the most respected secondary authorities. The honest student finds himself continually deserted, retarded, misled by the classics of historical literature, and has to hew his own way through multitudinous transactions, periodicals and official publications, in order to reach the truth.
Ultimate history cannot be obtained in this generation; but, so far as documentary evidence is at command, conventional history can be discarded, and the point can be shown that has been reached on the road from the one to the other. To discharge this task satisfactorily, however, requires a judicious division of labour. The abundance of original records, of monographs and works of detail, that have been published within the last fifty years, surpasses by far the grasp of a single mind. To work up their results into a uniform whole demands the application of the cooperative principle—a principle to which we already owe such notable achievements of historical research as the Monumenta Germaniae Historica, our own Rolls Series, and the Dictionary of National Biography. Without such organised collaboration, an adequate and comprehensive history of modern times has become impossible. Hence the plan of the present work, the execution of which is divided among a large and varied body of scholars.
The general history of Europe and of her colonies since the fifteenth century, which it is proposed to narrate in accordance with the principles stated above, is to be treated in twelve volumes. For each of these some historical fact of signal importance has been chosen as the central idea round which individual developments are grouped, not accidentally, but of reasoned purpose. The Renaissance, the Reformation, the United States of America, the French Revolution, Napoleon, are examples of such ideas, achievements or figures which give to each of these volumes in succession a unity not of name alone. The use of such characteristic designations frees us, to some extent, from the necessity of adhering rigorously to the precise limits of chronology or geography.
Thus the subject of the present volume—the Renaissance—possesses a unity of subject matter rather than of time. Neither the anterior nor the posterior limits of the movement are precisely marked. Again, the history of the United States of America, although intimately connected with that of Europe, and with that of Great Britain in particular, has an inner coherence of its own, which is best preserved by a distinct and continuous treatment. In another part of this work, dealing with the same events from a British or French point of view, the American War of Liberation will again find its place, in so far as it affected the national progress or interests of either country. What in one volume or in one chapter constitutes the main subject, in another may form a digression or furnish an illustration. But, throughout the varied treatments of successive periods, each in its turn dominated by historic ideas or movements of prominent significance, we shall consistently adhere to the conception of modern history, and of the history of modern Europe in particular, as a single entity. This conception has regulated the choice and the distribution of matter and the assignment of space to each division.
Certain nations or countries may at times require relatively full treatment. Italy, for instance, fills an exceptionally large space in the present volume. And the reason is obvious. From Italy proceeded the movement which aroused the mind of Europe to fresh activity; in Italy this movement bore its earliest and, in some branches, its finest fruit. Moreover, in the general play of forces before the Reformation, it was on Italian soil that nearly all the chief powers of Europe met for battle and intrigue. If to these considerations are added the importance of Rome as the capital of the Catholic world and that of Venice as the capital of commercial Europe, it will be seen that there is nothing disproportionate in the share allotted to Italy and Italian affairs in this volume. Other countries within the geographical limits of the European continent had little influence during the period of the Renaissance, and are therefore comparatively neglected. The Scandinavian nations were still in the main confined to their own immediate sphere of action; and it needed the Reformation to bring them into the circle of general European politics. Russia remained, as yet, inert, while the other Eastern races of Europe played but a minor part either in its material or in its intellectual development.
Our first volume is not merely intended to describe and discuss the Renaissance as a movement of European history. It is also designed as an introductory volume whose business it is, as it were, to bring upon the stage the nations, forces, and interests which will bear the chief parts in the action. Each chapter of this volume includes so much of antecedent, especially of institutional history, as seemed necessary for the clear understanding of the conditions with which it is concerned. Such an introduction was not thought requisite, in the case of Great Britain, in a book written for English readers.
That no place has been found in this volume for a separate account of the development of the pictorial, plastic, and decorative art of the Renaissance, may appear to some a serious omission. But to have attempted a review of this subject in the period dealt with in our first volume, would have inevitably entailed a history of artistic progress during later periods—an extension of the scope of this work which considerations of space have compelled us to renounce. Politics, economics, and social life must remain the chief concern of this History; art and literature, except in their direct bearing on these subjects, are best treated in separate and special works; nor indeed is this direct influence so great as is frequently supposed.
A full index to the whole work will be published when the series of volumes has been completed. A carefully constructed table of contents and a brief index of names accompany each volume. Footnotes are deliberately excluded, and quotations, even from contemporary authorities, are sparingly introduced. On the other hand, each chapter is supplemented by a full working bibliography of the subject. These bibliographies are not intended to be exhaustive. Obsolete works are intentionally excluded, and a careful selection has been made with the view of supplying historical students with a compendious survey of trustworthy and accessible literature.
Some of the points of view, to which this preface has referred, have been urged again in the introductory note from the pen of the late Bishop of London which is prefixed to the present volume. We have printed it with a few changes of a kind which we had Dr Creighton’s express authority to make, and we are glad to think that it shows both the cordial interest taken by him in the scheme designed by Lord Acton, and the agreement as to its main principles between the late Regius Professor and the eminent historian who like him formerly filled a chair in this University.
On behalf of the Syndics of the Press, and on our own behalf, we desire to express our thanks, in which we feel assured that Lord Acton would have cordially joined, for valuable assistance given in regard to the present volume by the Rev. J. N. Figgis, of St Catharine’s College, and Mr W. A. J. Archbold, of Peterhouse. Mr Archbold was also of much service in advancing the general distribution of chapters and other editorial arrangements. The advice of Professor F. W. Maitland has been invaluable to all concerned, and will, we trust, continue to be given. The ready and courteous cooperation of the Secretary to the Syndics, Mr R. T. Wright, of Christ’s College, has from the first been of the greatest advantage to the Editors. They confidently hope for a continuation of the aid which they have received and are receiving from historical scholars in this University and elsewhere. While all readers of this work will regret the loss of the guidance to which the undertaking had been originally entrusted, it is most keenly felt by those who are endeavouring to carry out the late Lord Acton’s conception.
A. W. W.
G. W. P.
S. L.
CAMBRIDGE,
August 1902.
ANY division of history is doubtless arbitrary. But it is impossible for history to discharge all the obligations which, from a strictly scientific point of view, are incumbent upon it. If we accept the position that history is concerned with tracing the evolution of human affairs, we are continually being driven further back for our starting-point. The word “affairs” is generally supposed to indicate some definite movement; and the forces which rendered a movement possible must be supposed to have depended upon institutions which produced organised action. These institutions arose from attempts to grapple with circumstances by the application of ideas. We are thus carried back to an enquiry into the influence of physical environment and into the origin of ideas relating to society. We pass insensibly from the region of recorded facts into a region of hypothesis, where the qualities requisite for an historian have to be supplemented by those of the anthropologist and the metaphysician. A pause must be made somewhere. Humanity must be seized at some period of its development, if a beginning is to be made at all. The selection of that point must be determined by some recognisable motive of convenience.
The limitation implied by the term modern history depends on such a motive, and is to be defended on that ground only. Modern history professes to deal with mankind in a period when they had reached the stage of civilisation which is in its broad outlines familiar to us, during the period in which the problems that still occupy us came into conscious recognition, and were dealt with in ways intelligible to us as resembling our own. It is this sense of familiarity which leads us to draw a line and mark out the beginnings of modern history. On the hither side of this line men speak a language which we can readily understand; they are animated by ideas and aspirations which resemble those animating ourselves; the forms in which they express their thoughts and the records of their activity are the same as those still prevailing among us. Any one who works through the records of the fifteenth and the sixteenth century becomes conscious of an extraordinary change of mental attitude, showing itself on all sides in unexpected ways. He finds at the same time that all attempts to analyse and account for this change are to a great extent unsatisfactory. After marshalling all the forces and ideas which were at work to produce it, he still feels that there was behind all these an animating spirit which he cannot but most imperfectly catch, whose power blended all else together and gave a sudden cohesion to the whole. This modern spirit formed itself with surprising rapidity, and we cannot fully explain the process. Modern history accepts it as already in existence, and herein has a great advantage. It does not ask the reader to leave the sphere of ideas which he knows. It makes but slight claims on his power of imagination, or on his sympathy with alien modes of thought. He moves at his ease in a world which is already related at every point with the world in which he lives. Things are written clearly for his understanding.
It is of course possible to investigate the causes of this change, and to lay bare the broad lines of difference between the medieval and the modern world. In outward matters, the great distinction is the frank recognition in the latter of nationality, and all that it involves. The remoteness of the Middle Ages is partly due to the technicalities which arose from the persistent attempt to regard international relationships as merely forming part of a universal system of customary law. Motives which we regard as primary had to find expression in complicated methods, and in order to become operative had to wait for a convenient season. A definite conception had been promulgated of a European commonwealth, regulated by rigid principles; and this conception was cherished as an ideal, however much it might be disregarded in actual practice. Practical issues had always to justify themselves by reference to this ideal system, so that it is hard to disentangle them accurately in terms of modern science. This system wore away gradually, and was replaced by the plain issue of a competition between nations, which is the starting point of modern history. This division of history is mainly concerned with the rise and fall of nations, and with an estimate of the contributions made by each to the stock of ideas or experiments which influenced the welfare of mankind.
The growth of national feeling, and its recognition as the dominant force in human affairs, went side by side with a fuller recognition of the individual. The strength of national life depended upon the force of the individuals of whom the nation was composed. International competition implied a development of national sentiment, which needed the aid of each and all. As the individual citizen became conscious of increased importance, he was inclined to turn to criticism of the institutions by which he had previously been kept in a state of tutelage. The Church was the first to suffer from the results of this criticism, and modern history begins with a struggle for liberty on the ground which was thelargest, the right of free self-realisation as towards God. The conflict which ensued was long and bitter. The issue could not be restricted solely to the domain of religion, but rapidly invaded civil relations. The demands of the individual constantly increased, and every country had to readjust in some form or another its old institutions to meet the ever growing pressure.
Hence, the two main features of modern history are the development of nationalities and the growth of individual freedom. The interest which above all others is its own lies in tracing these processes, intimately connected as they are with one another. We delight to see how peoples, in proportion to their power of finding expression for their capabilities, became more able to enrich human life at large not only by adapting in each case means to ends, but also by pursuing a common progressive purpose.
Side by side with this increase of energy went an extension of the sphere with which European history was concerned. The discovery of the New World is a great event which stands on the threshold of modern history, and which has mightily influenced its course. New spheres of enterprise were opened for adventurous nations, and colonisation led to an endless series of new discoveries. The growth of sea power altered the conditions on which national greatness depended. Intercourse with unknown peoples raised unexpected problems. Trade was gradually revolutionised, and economic questions of the utmost complexity were raised.
These are obvious facts, but their bearing upon the sphere and scope of historical writing is frequently overlooked. It is no longer possible for the historian of modern times to content himself with a picturesque presentation of outward events. In fact, however much he may try to limit the ground which he intends to occupy, he finds himself drawn insensibly into a larger sphere. His subject reveals unsuspected relations with problems which afterwards became important. He perceives tendencies to have been at work which helped to produce definite results under the unforeseen conditions of a later age. He discovers illustrations, all the more valuable because they represent an unconscious process, of forces destined to become powerful. His work expands indefinitely in spite of his efforts to curtail it; and he may sigh to find that the main outline before him insensibly loses itself in a multitude of necessary details. If he is to tell the truth, he cannot isolate one set of principles or tendencies; for he knows that many of equal importance were at work at the same time. He is bound to take them all into consideration, and to show their mutual action. What wonder that his book grows in spite of all his efforts to restrain it within definite limits?
Indeed history, unlike other branches of knowledge, cannot prescribe limitations for itself. It is not only that men need the experience of the past to help them in practical endeavours, to enable them to understand the position of actual questions with which they and their age are engaged. For this purpose accurate facts are needed,—not opinions, however plausible, which are unsustained by facts. At the same time, the variety of the matters with which history is bound to concern itself steadily increases. As more interest is taken in questions relating to social organisation, researches are conducted in fields which before were neglected. It is useless for the science of history to plead established precedent for its methods, or to refuse to lend itself willingly to the demands made upon its resources. The writer of history has to struggle as he best may with multifarious requirements, which threaten to turn him from a man of letters into the compiler of an encyclopaedia.
This continual increase of curiosity, this widening of interest introduces a succession of new subjects for historical research. Documents once disregarded as unimportant are found to yield information as to the silent growth of tendencies which gradually became influential. The mass of letters and papers, increasing at a rate that seems to be accelerated from year to year, offers a continual series of new suggestions. They not only supplement what was known before, but frequently require so much readjustment of previous judgments, that a new presentation of the whole subject becomes necessary. This process goes on without a break, and it is hard in any branch of history to keep pace with the stock of monographs, or illustrations of particular points, which research and industry are constantly producing. However much a writer may strive to know all that can be known, new knowledge is always flowing in. Modern history in this resembles the chief branches of Natural Science; before the results of the last experiments can be tabulated and arranged in their relation to the whole knowledge of the subject, new experiments have been commenced which promise to carry the process still further.
In sciences, however, which deal with nature, the object of research is fixed and stable: it is only man’s power of observation that increases. But history deals with a subject which is constantly varying in itself and which is regarded by each succeeding generation from a different point of view. We search the records of the past of mankind, in order that we may learn wisdom for the present, and hope for the future. We wish to discover tendencies which are permanent, ideas which promise to be fruitful, conceptions by which we may judge the course most likely to secure abiding results. We are bound to assume, as the scientific hypothesis on which history is to be written, a progress in human affairs. This progress must inevitably be towards some end; and we find it difficult to escape the temptation, while we keep that end in view, of treating certain events as great landmarks on the road. A mode of historical presentation thus comes into fashion based upon an inspiring assumption. But the present is always criticising the past, and events which occur pass judgment on events which have occurred. Time is always revealing the weaknesses of past achievements, and suggesting doubts as to the methods by which they were won. Each generation, as it looks back, sees a change in the perspective, and cannot look with the same eyes as its predecessor.
There are other reasons of a like kind which might further explain the exceeding difficulty of writing a history of modern times on any consecutive plan. The possibility of effective and adequate condensation is almost abandoned, except for rudimentary purposes. The point of view of any individual writer influences not only his judgment of what he presents, but his principle of selection; and such is the wealth of matter with which the writer of modern history has to deal, that selection is imperative. In the vast and diversified area of modern history, the point of view determines the whole nature of the record, or else the whole work sinks to the level of a mass of details uninformed by any luminous idea. The writer who strives to avoid any tendency becomes dull, and the cult of impartiality paralyses the judgment.
The present work is an attempt to avoid this result on an intelligible system. Every period and every subject has features of its own which strike the mind of the student who has made that period or subject the field of his investigations. His impressions are not derived from previous conceptions of necessary relations between what he has studied and what went before or after; they are formed directly from the results of his own labours. Round some definite nucleus, carefully selected, these impressions can be gathered together; and the age can be presented as speaking for itself. No guide is so sure for an historian as an overmastering sense of the importance of events as they appeared to those who took part in them. There can be no other basis on which to found any truly sympathetic treatment.
From this point of view a series of monographs, conceived on a connected system, instead of presenting a collection of fragments, possesses a definite unity of its own. The selection and arrangement of the subjects to be treated provides a general scheme of connexion which readily explains itself. Each separate writer treats of a subject with which he is familiar, and is freed from any other responsibility than that of setting forth clearly the salient features of the period or subject entrusted to him. The reader has before him a series of presentations of the most important events and ideas. He may follow any line of investigation of his own, and may supply links of connexion at his will. He may receive suggestions from different minds, and may pursue them. He is free from the domination of one intelligence—a domination which has its dangers however great that intelligence may be—striving to express the multifarious experience of mankind in categories of its own creation. He is free at the same time from the aridity of a chronological table,—a record of events strung round so slight a thread that no real connexion is apparent. Each subject or period has a natural coherence of its own. If this be grasped, its relations to other divisions of the work will be readily apparent and may be followed without difficulty.
This is the main idea on which the method pursued in these volumes is founded. The mode of treatment adopted is not arbitrary, or dictated by considerations of convenience. It springs from the nature of the subject and its difficulties. Specialisation is absolutely necessary for the study of history, and it is impossible for any one master mind to coordinate in one product the results of all the special work that is being accomplished around it. Elements of interest and suggestiveness, which are of vital importance to the specialist, disappear before the abstract system which the compiler must, whatever may be the scale of his undertaking, frame for his own guidance. The task is too large, its relations are too numerous and too indefinite, for any one mind, however well stored, to appreciate them all. It is better to allow the subject-matter to supply its own unifying principle than to create one which is inadequate or of mere temporary value. At all events, this work has been undertaken with a desire to solve a very difficult problem, and to supply a very real need, so far as was possible under the conditions of its publication.
AMONG the landmarks which divide the Middle Ages from modern times the most conspicuous is the discovery of America by the Genoese captain Cristoforo Colombo in 1492. We shall discuss in the next chapter the nature and consequences of this discovery; the present deals briefly with the series of facts and events which led up to and prepared for it, and with the circumstances in which it was made. For Colombo’s voyage, the most daring and brilliant feat of seamanship on record, though inferior to some others in the labour and difficulty involved in it, was but a link in a long chain of maritime enterprise stretching backward from our own times, through thirty centuries, to the infancy of Mediterranean civilisation. During this period the progress of discovery was far from uniform. Its principal achievements belong to its earliest stage, having been made by the Phoenicians, Greeks and Carthaginians before the Mediterranean peoples fell under the dominion of Rome. By that time, the coasts of Southern Europe and Asia, and of Northern Africa, together with one at least-perhaps more-among the neighbouring island groups in the Atlantic, were known in their general configuration, and some progress had been made in the task of fixing their places on the sphere, though their geographical outlines had not been accurately ascertained, and the longitude of the united terra firma of Europe and Asia was greatly over-estimated. In consequence of this excessive estimate Greek geographers speculated on the possibility of more easily reaching the Far East by a western voyage from the Pillars of Hercules; and this suggestion was occasionally revived in the earlier days of the Roman Empire. Yet from the foundation of that Empire down to the thirteenth century of our era, such a voyage was never seriously contemplated; nor was anything substantial added to the maritime knowledge inherited by the Middle Ages from antiquity. About the beginning of the twelfth century maritime activity recommenced, and by the end of the fifteenth a degree of progress had been reached which forced the idea of a westward voyage to the Far East into prominence, and ultimately brought it to the test of experience. These four centuries, the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth, constitute what is called the Age of Discovery. The fifteenth century marks its greatest development; and in the last decade of that century it enters on its final stage, consequent on the discovery of America.
This period was an Age of Discovery in a wider sense than the word denotes when associated with maritime enterprise only. It beheld signal discoveries in the arts and sciences-the result of a renewed intellectual activity contrasting vividly with the stagnation or retrogression of the ten centuries preceding. It witnessed the rise and development of Gothic architecture, in connexion with the foundation or rebuilding of cathedrals and monasteries; the beginnings of modern painting, sculpture, and .music; the institution of universities; the revival of Greek philosophy and Roman law; and some premature strivings after freedom of thought in religion, sternly repressed at the time, but destined finally to triumph in the Reformation. All these movements were in fact signs of increased vitality and influence on the part of Roman Christianity; and this cause stimulated geographical discovery in more than one way. Various religious and military Orders now assumed, and vigorously exercised, the function of spreading Christianity beyond the limits of the Roman Empire. By the end of the tenth century, the Danes, Norwegians, Swedes, Poles, and Hungarians had already been partly converted. During the twelfth century, the borders of the Roman faith were greatly enlarged. Missionary enterprise was extended to the Pomeranians and other Slavonic peoples, the Finns, Lieflanders, and Esthonians. The Russians had already been christianised by preachers of the Greek Church; Nestorians had penetrated Central Asia, and converted a powerful Khan who himself became a priest, and whose fame rapidly overspread Christendom under the name of Presbyter or “Prester” John. Prester John was succeeded by a son, or brother, who bore the name of David; but Genghis Khan attacked him, and towards the end of the twelfth century put an end to the Christian Khanate. In the thirteenth century, Roman missionaries sought to recover the ground thus lost, and Roman envoys made their way through Central Asia, though the Catholic faith never obtained in these Eastern parts more than an imperfect reception and a precarious footing. Traders and other travellers brought the Far East into communication with Europe in other ways; and Marco Polo, a Venetian adventurer who had found employment at the Great Khan’s court, even compiled a handbook to the East for the use of European visitors.
While inland discovery and the spread of Christianity were thus proceeding concurrently in the North of Europe and Central Asia, a process somewhat similar in principle, but different in its aspect, was going on in the South, where the Mediterranean Sea divided the Christian world from the powerful “Saracens,” or Mohammadans of Northern Africa. The conquests of this people, of mixed race, but united in their fanatical propagation of the neo-Arab religion, had been made when Southern Europe, weak and divided, still bore the marks of the ruin which had befallen the Western Empire. The greater part of Spain had fallen into their hands, and they had invaded, though fruitlessly, France itself. Charles the Great had begun the process of restoring the Christian West to stability and influence, and under his successors Western Christendom recovered its balance. Yet the Saracen peoples still preponderated in maritime power. They long held in check the rising maritime power of Venice and Genoa; they overran Corsica, Sardinia, and the Balearic Islands. Nor was the domination of these vigorous peoples confined to the Mediterranean. In the Red Sea and on the East coast of Africa, frequented by them as far south as Madagascar, they had no rivals. Eastward from the Red Sea they traded to, and in many places settled on, the coasts of India, and the continental shores and islands of the Far East. That branch which held Barbary and Spain was not likely to leave unexplored the Western coast of Africa and the Canary Islands. It was on this coast that the principal work achieved in the Age of Discovery had its beginnings; and although maritime enterprise flourished at Constantinople and Venice, there can be little doubt that these beginnings are due to the Saracens. The Moors, or Saracens of North-west Africa, must have made great progress in ship-building and navigation to have been able to hold the Mediterranean against their Christian rivals. Masters of North Africa, they carried on a large caravan trade across the Sahara with the negro tribes of the Soudan. It is certain that at the beginning of the Age of Discovery they were well acquainted with the dreary and barren Atlantic coast of the Sahara, and knew it to be terminated by the fertile and populous tract watered by the Senegal river; for this tract, marked “Bilad Ghana” or “Land of Wealth,” appears on a map constructed by the Arab geographer Edrisi for Roger II, the Norman King of Sicily, about the year 1150. That they habitually or indeed ever visited it by sea, is improbable, since it was more easily and safely accessible to them by land; and the blank sea-board of the Sahara offered nothing worthy of attention. The Italians and Portuguese, on the contrary, excluded from the African trade by land, saw in Bilad Ghana a country which it was their interest to reach, and which they could only reach by sea. Hence, the important events of the Age of Discovery begin with the coasting of the Atlantic margin of the Sahara-first by the Genoese, in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, then by the Portuguese, in the first half of the fifteenth-and with the slave-raiding expeditions of the latter people on the voyage to and in Bilad Ghana itself. The name Ghana became known to the Genoese and Portuguese as “Guinea,” and the negroes who inhabited it-a pure black race, easily distinguishable from the hybrid wanderers, half Berber and half black, of the Western Sahara—were called “Guineos.” Hitherto the Portuguese and Spaniards had purchased blacks from the Moors; by navigating the African coast they hoped to procure them at first hand, and largely by the direct process of kidnapping.
While we know nothing of any voyages made by the Moors to Bilad Ghana, and very little of the expeditions of the Genoese explorers who followed them, we possess tolerably full accounts of the Portuguese voyages from their beginning; and these accounts leave us in no doubt that the nature and object of the earliest series of expeditions were those above indicated. The slave-traders of Barbary, until the capture of Ceuta by the Portuguese in 1415, may have occasionally supplemented their supply of slaves obtained through inland traffic, by voyages to the Canary Islands, made for the purpose of carrying off the Guanche natives. Probably they also frequented the ports and roadsteads on the Barbary coast outside the Straits. But the possession of Ceuta enabled the Portuguese to gain a command of the Atlantic which the Moors were not in a position to contest. Dom Henrique, Iffante of Portugal, and third surviving son of King Joao I, by Philippa of Lancaster, sister of Henry IV, King of England, became Governor of Ceuta, in the capture of which he had taken part, and conceived the plan of forming a “Greater Portugal1” by colonising the Azores and the islands of the Madeira group, all recently discovered, or rediscovered, by the Genoese, and conquering the “wealthy land” which lay beyond the dreary shore of the Sahara. The latter part of this project, commenced by the Iffante about 1426, involved an outlay which required to be compensated by making some pecuniary profit; and with a view to this Dom Henrique subsequently resolved to embark in the slave-trade, the principal commerce carried on by the Moors, over inland routes, with the Soudan and Bilad Ghana. Having given his slave-hunters a preliminary training, by employing them in capturing Guanches in the Canary Islands, he commissioned them in 1434 to pass Cape Bojador and make similar raids on the sea-board of the Sahara. The hardy hybrid wanderers of the desert proved more difficult game than the Guanches. For the purpose of running them down, horses were shipped with the slave-hunters, but the emissaries of the Iffante still failed to secure the intended victims. Vainly, says the chronicler, did they explore the inlet of the Rio do Ouro, and the remoter one of Angra de Cintra “ to see if they could make capture of any man, or hunt down any woman or boy, whereby the desire of their lord might be satisfied.” In default of slaves, they loaded their vessels with the skins and oil of seals. This poor traffic was scarcely worth pursuing, and for several years (1434-41) the project of conquering Bilad Ghana and annexing it to the Portuguese Crown remained in abeyance.
Yet Dom Henrique was not a mere slave-trader. The capture of slaves was destined to subserve a greater purpose-the conversion of Ghana into a Christian dependency of Portugal, to be administered by the military Order of Jesus Christ. In Portugal this Order had succeeded to the property and functions of the dissolved Order of the Temple, and Dom Henrique was its Governor. His project was in substance similar to that carried out by the Teutonic Order in conquering and christianising the heathen Prussians; and the Order of Christ corresponded in its function to the Orders of Santiago and Alcantara, which were actively engaged in ridding Spain of the Moors. Dom Henrique’s scheme represents the final effort of the crusading spirit; and the naval campaigns against the Muslim in the Indian seas, in which it culminated, forty years after Dom Henrique’s death, may be described as the Last Crusade. We shall see that Albuquerque, the great leader of this Crusade, who established the Portuguese dominion in the East on a secure footing, included in his plan the recovery of the holy places of Jerusalem. The same object was avowed by Colombo, who thought he had brought its attainment within measurable distance by the successful voyage in which he had sought to reach the Far East by way of the West.
A curious geographical illusion served as a background and supplement to the scheme. The Senegal river, which fertilises Bilad Ghana, and is the first considerable stream to the southward of the Pillars of Hercules, was believed by Arab geographers to flow from a lake near those in which the Nile originated, and was itself described as the “Western Nile.” The eastern branch of the true Nile flowed through the Christian kingdom of Abyssinia; and if the “ Western Nile” could also be christianised from its mouth to its supposed source-no insuperable task, for Bilad Ghana had not fallen under the sway of Islam- Christian Europe would join hands with Christian East Africa, the flank of the Mohammadan power would be turned, and European adventure would have unmolested access to the Bed Sea and the ports of Arabia, India, and China. How far in this direction the Iffante’s imagination habitually travelled, is uncertain. His immediate object was to subjugate and convert the not yet Islamised heathen in the North-west of Africa, beginning with the Senegal river, and to create here a great Portuguese dependency, the spiritualities of which were, with the consent of the Holy See, to be vested in the Order of Jesus Christ, and were destined to furnish a fund for the aggrandisement of the Order, and the furtherance of its objects.