Mutual Aid: A Factor of Evolution



Peter Kropotkin

1902



Chapter 5



MUTUAL AID IN THE MEDIAEVAL CITY







Growth of authority in Barbarian Society. -- Serfdom in the

villages. -- Revolt of fortified towns: their liberation; their

charts. -- The guild. -- Double origin of the free medieval city.

-- Self-jurisdiction, self-administration. -- Honourable position

of labour. -- Trade by the guild and by the city.





    Sociability and need of mutual aid and support are such



inherent parts of human nature that at no time of history can we



discover men living in small isolated families, fighting each



other for the means of subsistence. On the contrary, modern



research, as we saw it in the two preceding chapters, proves that



since the very beginning of their prehistoric life men used to



agglomerate into gentes, clans, or tribes, maintained by an idea



of common descent and by worship of common ancestors. For



thousands and thousands of years this organization has kept men



together, even though there was no authority whatever to impose



it. It has deeply impressed all subsequent development of



mankind; and when the bonds of common descent had been loosened



by migrations on a grand scale, while the development of the



separated family within the clan itself had destroyed the old



unity of the clan, a new form of union, territorial in its



principle -- the village community -- was called into existence



by the social genius of man. This institution, again, kept men



together for a number of centuries, permitting them to further



develop their social institutions and to pass through some of the



darkest periods of history, without being dissolved into loose



aggregations of families and individuals, to make a further step



in their evolution, and to work out a number of secondary social



institutions, several of which have survived down to the present



time. We have now to follow the further developments of the same



ever-living tendency for mutual aid. Taking the village



communities of the so-called barbarians at a time when they were



making a new start of civilization after the fall of the Roman



Empire, we have to study the new aspects taken by the sociable



wants of the masses in the middle ages, and especially in the



medieval guilds and the medieval city.



    Far from being the fighting animals they have often been



compared to, the barbarians of the first centuries of our era



(like so many Mongolians, Africans, Arabs, and so on, who still



continue in the same barbarian stage) invariably preferred peace



to war. With the exception of a few tribes which had been driven



during the great migrations into unproductive deserts or



highlands, and were thus compelled periodically to prey upon



their better-favoured neighbours -- apart from these, the great



bulk of the Teutons, the Saxons, the Celts, the Slavonians, and



so on, very soon after they had settled in their newly-conquered



abodes, reverted to the spade or to their herds. The earliest



barbarian codes already represent to us societies composed of



peaceful agricultural communities, not hordes of men at war with



each other. These barbarians covered the country with villages



and farmhouses;1 they cleared the forests, bridged the



torrents, and colonized the formerly quite uninhabited



wilderness; and they left the uncertain warlike pursuits to



brotherhoods, scholae, or "trusts" of unruly men, gathered round



temporary chieftains, who wandered about, offering their



adventurous spirit, their arms, and their knowledge of warfare



for the protection of populations, only too anxious to be left in



peace. The warrior bands came and went, prosecuting their family



feuds; but the great mass continued to till the soil, taking but



little notice of their would-be rulers, so long as they did not



interfere with the independence of their village communities.2



The new occupiers of Europe evolved the systems of land tenure



and soil culture which are still in force with hundreds of



millions of men; they worked out their systems of compensation



for wrongs, instead of the old tribal blood-revenge; they learned



the first rudiments of industry; and while they fortified their



villages with palisaded walls, or erected towers and earthen



forts whereto to repair in case of a new invasion, they soon



abandoned the task of defending these towers and forts to those



who made of war a speciality.



    The very peacefulness of the barbarians, certainly not their



supposed warlike instincts, thus became the source of their



subsequent subjection to the military chieftains. It is evident



that the very mode of life of the armed brotherhoods offered them



more facilities for enrichment than the tillers of the soil could



find in their agricultural communities. Even now we see that



armed men occasionally come together to shoot down Matabeles and



to rob them of their droves of cattle, though the Matabeles only



want peace and are ready to buy it at a high price. The scholae



of old certainly were not more scrupulous than the scholae of our



own time. Droves of cattle, iron (which was extremely costly at



that time3), and slaves were appropriated in this way; and



although most acquisitions were wasted on the spot in those



glorious feasts of which epic poetry has so much to say -- still



some part of the robbed riches was used for further enrichment.



There was plenty of waste land, and no lack of men ready to till



it, if only they could obtain the necessary cattle and



implements. Whole villages, ruined by murrains, pests, fires, or



raids of new immigrants, were often abandoned by their



inhabitants, who went anywhere in search of new abodes. They



still do so in Russia in similar circumstances. And if one of the



hirdmen of the armed brotherhoods offered the peasants some



cattle for a fresh start, some iron to make a plough, if not the



plough itself, his protection from further raids, and a number of



years free from all obligations, before they should begin to



repay the contracted debt, they settled upon the land. And when,



after a hard fight with bad crops, inundations and pestilences,



those pioneers began to repay their debts, they fell into servile



obligations towards the protector of the territory. Wealth



undoubtedly did accumulate in this way, and power always follows



wealth.4 And yet, the more we penetrate into the life of those



times, the sixth and seventh centuries of our era, the more we



see that another element, besides wealth and military force, was



required to constitute the authority of the few. It was an



element of law and tight, a desire of the masses to maintain



peace, and to establish what they considered to be justice, which



gave to the chieftains of the scholae -- kings, dukes, knyazes,



and the like -- the force they acquired two or three hundred



years later. That same idea of justice, conceived as an adequate



revenge for the wrong done, which had grown in the tribal stage,



now passed as a red thread through the history of subsequent



institutions, and, much more even than military or economic



causes, it became the basis upon which the authority of the kings



and the feudal lords was founded.



    In fact, one of the chief preoccupations of the barbarian



village community always was, as it still is with our barbarian



contemporaries, to put a speedy end to the feuds which arose from



the then current conception of justice. When a quarrel took



place, the community at once interfered, and after the folkmote



had heard the case, it settled the amount of composition



(wergeld) to be paid to the wronged person, or to his family, as



well as the fred, or fine for breach of peace, which had to be



paid to the community. Interior quarrels were easily appeased in



this way. But when feuds broke out between two different tribes,



or two confederations of tribes, notwithstanding all measures



taken to prevent them,5 the difficulty was to find an arbiter



or sentence-finder whose decision should be accepted by both



parties alike, both for his impartiality and for his knowledge of



the oldest law. The difficulty was the greater as the customary



laws of different tribes and confederations were at variance as



to the compensation due in different cases. It therefore became



habitual to take the sentence-finder from among such families, or



such tribes, as were reputed for keeping the law of old in its



purity; of being versed in the songs, triads, sagas, etc., by



means of which law was perpetuated in memory; and to retain law



in this way became a sort of art, a "mystery," carefully



transmitted in certain families from generation to generation.



Thus in Iceland, and in other Scandinavian lands, at every



Allthing, or national folkmote, a lövsögmathr used to recite the



whole law from memory for the enlightening of the assembly; and



in Ireland there was, as is known, a special class of men reputed



for the knowledge of the old traditions, and therefore enjoying a



great authority as judges.6 Again, when we are told by the



Russian annals that some stems of North-West Russia, moved by the



growing disorder which resulted from "clans rising against



clans," appealed to Norman varingiar to be their judges and



commanders of warrior scholae; and when we see the knyazes, or



dukes, elected for the next two hundred years always from the



same Norman family, we cannot but recognize that the Slavonians



trusted to the Normans for a better knowledge of the law which



would be equally recognized as good by different Slavonian kins.



In this case the possession of runes, used for the transmission



of old customs, was a decided advantage in favour of the Normans;



but in other cases there are faint indications that the "eldest"



branch of the stem, the supposed motherbranch, was appealed to to



supply the judges, and its decisions were relied upon as



just;7 while at a later  epoch we see a distinct tendency



towards taking the sentence-finders from the Christian clergy,



which, at that time, kept still to the fundamental, now



forgotten, principle of Christianity, that retaliation is no act



of justice. At that time the Christian clergy opened the churches



as places of asylum for those who fled from blood revenge, and



they willingly acted as arbiters in criminal cases, always



opposing the old tribal principle of life for life and wound for



wound. In short, the deeper we penetrate into the history of



early institutions, the less we find grounds for the military



theory of origin of authority. Even that power which later on



became such a source of oppression seems, on the contrary, to



have found its origin in the peaceful inclinations of the masses.



    In all these cases the fred, which often amounted to half the



compensation, went to the folkmote, and from times immemorial it



used to be applied to works of common utility and defence. It has



still the same destination (the erection of towers) among the



Kabyles and certain Mongolian stems; and we have direct evidence



that even several centuries later the judicial fines, in Pskov



and several French and German cities, continued to be used for



the repair of the city walls.1 It was thus quite natural that



the fines should be handed over to the sentence-finder, who was



bound, in return, both to maintain the schola of armed men to



whom the defence of the territory was trusted, and to execute the



sentences. This became a universal custom in the eighth and ninth



centuries, even when the sentence-finder was an elected bishop.



The germ of a combination of what we should now call the judicial



power and the executive thus made its appearance. But to these



two functions the attributions of the duke or king were strictly



limited. He was no ruler of the people -- the supreme power still



belonging to the folkmote -- not even a commander of the popular



militia; when the folk took to arms, it marched under a separate,



also elected, commander, who was not a subordinate, but an equal



to the king.9 The king was a lord on his personal domain only.



In fact, in barbarian language, the word konung, koning, or



cyning synonymous with the Latin rex, had no other meaning than



that of a temporary leader or chieftain of a band of men. The



commander of a flotilla of boats, or even of a single pirate



boat, was also a konung, and till the present day the commander



of fishing in Norway is named Not-kong -- "the king of the



nets."10 The veneration attached later on to the personality



of a king did not yet exist, and while treason to the kin was



punished by death, the slaying of a king could be recouped by the



payment of compensation: a king simply was valued so much more



than a freeman.11 And when King Knu (or Canute) had killed one



man of his own schola, the saga represents him convoking his



comrades to a thing where he stood on his knees imploring pardon.



He was pardoned, but not till he had agreed to pay nine times the



regular composition, of which one-third went to himself for the



loss of one of his men, one-third to the relatives of the slain



man, and one-third (the fred) to the schola.12 In reality, a



complete change had to be accomplished in the current



conceptions, under the double influence of the Church and the



students of Roman law, before an idea of sanctity began to be



attached to the personality of the king.



    However, it lies beyond the scope of these essays to follow



the gradual development of authority out of the elements just



indicated. Historians, such as Mr. and Mrs. Green for this



country, Augustin Thierry, Michelet, and Luchaire for France,



Kaufmann, Janssen, W. Arnold, and even Nitzsch, for Germany, Leo



and Botta for Italy, Byelaeff, Kostomaroff, and their followers



for Russia, and many others, have fully told that tale. They have



shown how populations, once free, and simply agreeing "to feed" a



certain portion of their military defenders, gradually became the



serfs of these protectors; how "commendation" to the Church, or



to a lord, became a hard necessity for the freeman; how each



lord's and bishop's castle became a robber's nest -- how



feudalism was imposed, in a word -- and how the crusades, by



freeing the serfs who wore the cross, gave the first impulse to



popular emancipation. All this need not be retold in this place,



our chief aim being to follow the constructive genius of the



masses in their mutual-aid institutions.







    At a time when the last vestiges of barbarian freedom seemed



to disappear, and Europe, fallen under the dominion of thousands



of petty rulers, was marching towards the constitution of such



theocracies and despotic States as had followed the barbarian



stage during the previous starts of civilization, or of barbarian



monarchies, such as we see now in Africa, life in Europe took



another direction. It went on on lines similar to those it had



once taken in the cities of antique Greece. With a unanimity



which seems almost incomprehensible, and for a long time was not



understood by historians, the urban agglomerations, down to the



smallest burgs, began to shake off the yoke of their worldly and



clerical lords. The fortified village rose against the lord's



castle, defied it first, attacked it next, and finally destroyed



it. The movement spread from spot to spot, involving every town



on the surface of Europe, and in less than a hundred years free



cities had been called into existence on the coasts of the



Mediterranean, the North Sea, the Baltic, the Atlantic Ocean,



down to the fjords of Scandinavia; at the feet of the Apennines,



the Alps, the Black Forest, the Grampians, and the Carpathians;



in the plains of Russia, Hungary, France and Spain. Everywhere



the same revolt took place, with the same features, passing



through the same phases, leading to the same results. Wherever



men had found, or expected to find, some protection behind their



town walls, they instituted their "co-jurations," their



"fraternities," their "friendships," united in one common idea,



and boldly marching towards a new life of mutual support and



liberty. And they succeeded so well that in three or four hundred



years they had changed the very face of Europe. They had covered



the country with beautiful sumptuous buildings, expressing the



genius of free unions of free men, unrivalled since for their



beauty and expressiveness; and they bequeathed to the following



generations all the arts, all the industries, of which our



present civilization, with all its achievements and promises for



the future, is only a further development. And when we now look



to the forces which have produced these grand results, we find



them -- not in the genius of individual heroes, not in the mighty



organization of huge States or the political capacities of their



rulers, but in the very same current of mutual aid and support



which we saw at work in the village community, and which was



vivified and reinforced in the Middle Ages by a new form of



unions, inspired by the very same spirit but shaped on a new



model -- the guilds.



    It is well known by this time that feudalism did not imply a



dissolution of the village community. Although the lord had



succeeded in imposing servile labour upon the peasants, and had



appropriated for himself such rights as were formerly vested in



the village community alone (taxes, mortmain, duties on



inheritances and marriages), the peasants had, nevertheless,



maintained the two fundamental rights of their communities: the



common possession of the land, and self-jurisdiction. In olden



times, when a king sent his vogt to a village, the peasants



received him with flowers in one hand and arms in the other, and



asked him -- which law he intended to apply: the one he found in



the village, or the one he brought with him? And, in the first



case, they handed him the flowers and accepted him; while in the



second case they fought him.13 Now, they accepted the king's



or the lord's official whom they could not refuse; but they



maintained the folkmote's jurisdiction, and themselves nominated



six, seven, or twelve judges, who acted with the lord's judge, in



the presence of the folkmote, as arbiters and sentence-finders.



In most cases the official had nothing left to him but to confirm



the sentence and to levy the customary fred. This precious right



of self-jurisdiction, which, at that time, meant



self-administration and self-legislation, had been maintained



through all the struggles; and even the lawyers by whom Karl the



Great was surrounded could not abolish it; they were bound to



confirm it. At the same time, in all matters concerning the



community's domain, the folkmote retained its supremacy and (as



shown by Maurer) often claimed submission from the lord himself



in land tenure matters. No growth of feudalism could break this



resistance; the village community kept its ground; and when, in



the ninth and tenth centuries, the invasions of the Normans, the



Arabs, and the Ugrians had demonstrated that military scholae



were of little value for protecting the land, a general movement



began all over Europe for fortifying the villages with stone



walls and citadels. Thousands of fortified centres were then



built by the energies of the village communities; and, once they



had built their walls, once a common interest had been created in



this new sanctuary -- the town walls -- they soon understood that



they could henceforward resist the encroachments of the inner



enemies, the lords, as well as the invasions of foreigners. A new



life of freedom began to develop within the fortified enclosures.



The medieval city was born.14



    No period of history could better illustrate the constructive



powers of the popular masses than the tenth and eleventh



centuries, when the fortified villages and market-places,



representing so many "oases amidst the feudal forest," began to



free themselves from their lord's yoke, and slowly elaborated the



future city organization; but, unhappily, this is a period about



which historical information is especially scarce: we know the



results, but little has reached us about the means by which they



were achieved. Under the protection of their walls the cities'



folkmotes -- either quite independent, or led by the chief noble



or merchant families -- conquered and maintained the right of



electing the military defensor and supreme judge of the town, or



at least of choosing between those who pretended to occupy this



position. In Italy the young communes were continually sending



away their defensors or domini, fighting those who refused to go.



The same went on in the East. In Bohemia, rich and poor alike



(Bohemicae gentis magni et parvi, nobiles et ignobiles) took part



in the election;15 while, the vyeches (folkmotes) of the



Russian cities regularly elected their dukes -- always from the



same Rurik family -- covenanted with them, and sent the knyaz



away if he had provoked discontent.16 At the same time in most



cities of Western and Southern Europe, the tendency was to take



for defensor a bishop whom the city had elected itself. and so



many bishops took the lead in protecting the "immunities" of the



towns and in defending their liberties, that numbers of them were



considered, after their death, as saints and special patrons of



different cities. St. Uthelred of Winchester, St. Ulrik of



Augsburg, St. Wolfgang of Ratisbon, St. Heribert of Cologne, St.



Adalbert of Prague, and so on, as well as many abbots and monks,



became so many cities' saints for having acted in defence of



popular rights.17 And under the new defensors, whether laic or



clerical, the citizens conquered full self-jurisdiction and



self-administration for their folkmotes.18



    The whole process of liberation progressed by a series of



imperceptible acts of devotion to the common cause, accomplished



by men who came out of the masses -- by unknown heroes whose very



names have not been preserved by history. The wonderful movement



of the God's peace (treuga Dei) by which the popular masses



endeavoured to put a limit to the endless family feuds of the



noble families, was born in the young towns, the bishops and the



citizens trying to extend to the nobles the peace they had



established within their town walls.19 Already at that period,



the commercial cities of Italy, and especially Amalfi (which had



its elected consuls since 844, and frequently changed its doges



in the tenth century)20 worked out the customary maritime and



commercial law which later on became a model for all Europe;



Ravenna elaborated its craft organization, and Milan, which had



made its first revolution in 980, became a great centre of



commerce, its trades enjoying a full independence since the



eleventh century.21 So also Brügge and Ghent; so also several



cities of France in which the Mahl or forum had become a quite



independent institution.22 And already during that period



began the work of artistic decoration of the towns by works of



architecture, which we still admire and which loudly testify of



the intellectual movement of the times. "The basilicae were then



renewed in almost all the universe," Raoul Glaber wrote in his



chronicle, and some of the finest monuments of medieval



architecture date from that period: the wonderful old church of



Bremen was built in the ninth century, Saint Marc of Venice was



finished in 1071, and the beautiful dome of Pisa in 1063. In



fact, the intellectual movement which has been described as the



Twelfth Century Renaissance23 and the Twelfth Century



Rationalism -- the precursor of the Reform24 date from that



period, when most cities were still simple agglomerations of



small village communities enclosed by walls.







    However, another element, besides the village-community



principle, was required to give to these growing centres of



liberty and enlightenment the unity of thought and action, and



the powers of initiative, which made their force in the twelfth



and thirteenth centuries. With the growing diversity of



occupations, crafts and arts, and with the growing commerce in



distant lands, some new form of union was required, and this



necessary new element was supplied by the guilds. Volumes and



volumes have been written about these unions which, under the



name of guilds, brotherhoods, friendships and druzhestva, minne,



artels in Russia, esnaifs in Servia and Turkey, amkari in



Georgia, and so on, took such a formidable development in



medieval times and played such an important part in the



emancipation of the cities. But it took historians more than



sixty years before the universality of this institution and its



true characters were understood. Only now, when hundreds of guild



statutes have been published and studied, and their relationship



to the Roman collegiae, and the earlier unions in Greece and in



India,25 is known, can we maintain with full confidence that



these brotherhoods were but a further development of the same



principles which we saw at work in the gens and the village



community.



    Nothing illustrates better these medieval brother hoods than



those temporary guilds which were formed on board ships. When a



ship of the Hansa had accomplished her first half-day passage



after having left the port, the captain (Schiffer) gathered all



crew and passengers on the deck, and held the following language,



as reported by a contemporary: --







"'As we are now at the mercy of God and the waves,' he said,



'each one must be equal to each other. And as we are surrounded



by storms, high waves, pirates and other dangers, we must keep a



strict order that we may bring our voyage to a good end. That is



why we shall pronounce the prayer for a good wind and good



success, and, according to marine law, we shall name the



occupiers of the judges' seats (Schöffenstellen).' Thereupon the



crew elected a Vogt and four scabini, to act as their judges. At



the end of the voyage the Vogt and the scabini. abdicated their



functions and addressed the. 'What has happened on board ship, we



crew as follows: -- must pardon to each other and consider as



dead (todt und ab sein lassen). What we have judged right, was



for the sake of justice. This is why we beg you all, in the name



of honest justice, to forget all the animosity one may nourish



against another, and to swear on bread and salt that he will not



think of it in a bad spirit. If any one, however, considers



himself wronged, he must appeal to the land Vogt and ask justice



from him before sunset.' On landing, the Stock with the fredfines



was handed over to the Vogt of the sea-port for distribution



among the poor."26







    This simple narrative, perhaps better than anything else,



depicts the spirit of the medieval guilds. Like organizations



came into existence wherever a group of men -- fishermen,



hunters, travelling merchants, builders, or settled craftsmen --



came together for a common pursuit. Thus, there was on board ship



the naval authority of the captain; but, for the very success of



the common enterprise, all men on board, rich and poor, masters



and crew, captain and sailors, agreed to be equals in their



mutual relations, to be simply men, bound to aid each other and



to settle their possible disputes before judges elected by all of



them. So also when a number of craftsmen -- masons, carpenters,



stone-cutters, etc. -- came together for building, say, a



cathedral, they all belonged to a city which had its political



organization, and each of them belonged moreover to his own



craft; but they were united besides by their common enterprise,



which they knew better than any one else, and they joined into a



body united by closer, although temporary, bonds; they founded



the guild for the building of the cathedral.27 We may see the



same till now in the Kabylian. çof:28 the Kabyles have their



village community; but this union is not sufficient for all



political, commercial, and personal needs of union, and the



closer brotherhood of the çof is constituted.



    As to the social characters of the medieval guild, any



guild-statute may illustrate them. Taking, for instance, the



skraa of some early Danish guild, we read in it, first, a



statement of the general brotherly feelings which must reign in



the guild; next come the regulations relative to



self-jurisdiction in cases of quarrels arising between two



brothers, or a brother and a stranger; and then, the social



duties of the brethren are enumerated. If a brother's house is



burned, or he has lost his ship, or has suffered on a pilgrim's



voyage, all the brethren must come to his aid. If a brother falls



dangerously ill, two brethren must keep watch by his bed till he



is out of danger, and if he dies, the brethren must bury him -- a



great affair in those times of pestilences -- and follow him to



the church and the grave. After his death they must provide for



his children, if necessary; very often the widow becomes a sister



to the guild.29



    These two leading features appeared in every brotherhood



formed for any possible purpose. In each case the members treated



each other as, and named each other, brother and sister;30 all



were equals before the guild. They owned some "chattel" (cattle,



land, buildings, places of worship, or "stock") in common. All



brothers took the oath of abandoning all feuds of old; and,



without imposing upon each other the obligation of never



quarrelling again, they agreed that no quarrel should degenerate



into a feud, or into a law-suit before another court than the



tribunal of the brothers themselves. And if a brother was



involved in a quarrel with a stranger to the guild, they agreed



to support him for bad and for good; that is, whether he was



unjustly accused of aggression, or really was the aggressor, they



had to support him, and to bring things to a peaceful end. So



long as his was not a secret aggression -- in which case he would



have been treated as an outlaw -- the brotherhood stood by



him.31 If the relatives of the wronged man wanted to revenge



the offence at once by a new aggression, the brother- hood



supplied him with a horse to run away, or with a boat, a pair of



oars, a knife and a steel for striking light; if he remained in



town, twelve brothers accompanied him to protect him; and in the



meantime they arranged the composition. They went to court to



support by oath the truthfulness of his statements, and if he was



found guilty they did not let him go to full ruin and become a



slave through not paying the due compensation: they all paid it,



just as the gens did in olden times. Only when a brother had



broken the faith towards his guild-brethren, or other people, he



was excluded from the brotherhood "with a Nothing's name" (tha



scal han maeles af brödrescap met nidings nafn).32



    Such were the leading ideas of those brotherhoods which



gradually covered the whole of medieval life. In fact, we know of



guilds among all possible professions: guilds of serfs,33



guilds of freemen, and guilds of both serfs and freemen; guilds



called into life for the special purpose of hunting, fishing, or



a trading expedition, and dissolved when the special purpose had



been achieved; and guilds lasting for centuries in a given craft



or trade. And, in proportion as life took an always greater



variety of pursuits, the variety in the guilds grew in



proportion. So we see not only merchants, craftsmen, hunters, and



peasants united in guilds; we also see guilds of priests,



painters, teachers of primary schools and universities, guilds



for performing the passion play, for building a church, for



developing the "mystery" of a given school of art or craft, or



for a special recreation -- even guilds among beggars,



executioners, and lost women, all organized on the same double



principle of self-jurisdiction and mutual support.34 For



Russia we have positive evidence showing that the very "making of



Russia" was as much the work of its hunters', fishermen's, and



traders' artels as of the budding village communities, and up to



the present day the country is covered with artels.35



    These few remarks show how incorrect was the view taken by



some early explorers of the guilds when they wanted to see the



essence of the institution in its yearly festival. In reality,



the day of the common meal was always the day, or the morrow of



the day, of election of aldermen, of discussion of alterations in



the statutes, and very often the day of judgment of quarrels that



had risen among the brethren,36 or of renewed allegiance to



the guild. The common meal, like the festival at the old tribal



folkmote -- the mahl or malum -- or the Buryate aba, or the



parish feast and the harvest supper, was simply an affirmation of



brotherhood. It symbolized the times when everything was kept in



common by the clan. This day, at least, all belonged to all; all



sate at the same table and partook of the same meal. Even at a



much later time the inmate of the almshouse of a London guild sat



this day by the side of the rich alderman. As to the distinction



which several explorers have tried to establish between the old



Saxon "frith guild" and the so-called "social" or "religious"



guilds -- all were frith guilds in the sense above



mentioned,37 and all were religious in the sense in which a



village community or a city placed under the protection of a



special saint is social and religious. If the institution of the



guild has taken such an immense extension in Asia, Africa, and



Europe, if it has lived thousands of years, reappearing again and



again when similar conditions called it into existence, it is



because it was much more than an eating association, or an



association for going to church on a certain day, or a burial



club. It answered to a deeply inrooted want of human nature; and



it embodied all the attributes which the State appropriated later



on for its bureaucracy and police, and much more than that. It



was an association for mutual support in all circumstances and in



all accidents of life, "by deed and advise," and it was an



organization for maintaining justice -- with this difference from



the State, that on all these occasions a humane, a brotherly



element was introduced instead of the formal element which is the



essential characteristic of State interference. Even when



appearing before the guild tribunal, the guild-brother answered



before men who knew him well and had stood by him before in their



daily work, at the common meal, in the performance of their



brotherly duties: men who were his equals and brethren indeed,



not theorists of law nor defenders of some one else's



interests.38







    It is evident that an institution so well suited to serve the



need of union, without depriving the individual of his



initiative, could but spread, grow, and fortify. The difficulty



was only to find such form as would permit to federate the unions



of the guilds without interfering with the unions of the village



communities, and to federate all these into one harmonious whole.



And when this form of combination had been found, and a series of



favourable circumstances permitted the cities to affirm their



independence, they did so with a unity of thought which can but



excite our admiration, even in our century of railways,



telegraphs, and printing. Hundreds of charters in which the



cities inscribed their liberation have reached us, and through



all of them -- notwithstanding the infinite variety of details,



which depended upon the more or less greater fulness of



emancipation -- the same leading ideas run. The city organized



itself as a federation of both small village communities and



guilds.







    "All those who belong to the friendship of the town" -- so



runs a charter given in 1188 to the burghesses of Aire by Philip,



Count of Flanders -- "have promised and confirmed by faith and



oath that they will aid each other as brethren, in whatever is



useful and honest. That if one commits against another an offence



in words or in deeds, the one who has suffered there from will



not take revenge, either himself or his people... he will lodge a



complaint and the offender will make good for his offence,



according to what will be pronounced by twelve elected judges



acting as arbiters, And if the offender or the offended, after



having been warned thrice, does not submit to the decision of the



arbiters, he will be excluded from the friendship as a wicked man



and a perjuror.39



    "Each one of the men of the commune will be faithful to his



con-juror, and will give him aid and advice, according to what



justice will dictate him" -- the Amiens and Abbeville charters



say. "All will aid each other, according to their powers, within



the boundaries of the Commune, and will not suffer that any one



takes anything from any one of them, or makes one pay



contributions" -- do we read in the charters of Soissons,



Compiègne, Senlis, and many others of the same type.40 And so



on with countless variations on the same theme.



    "The Commune," Guilbert de Nogent wrote, "is an oath of



mutual aid (mutui adjutorii conjuratio)... A new and detestable



word. Through it the serfs (capite sensi) are freed from all



serfdom; through it, they can only be condemned to a legally



determined fine for breaches of the law; through it, they cease



to be liable to payments which the serfs always used to



pay."41







    The same wave of emancipation ran, in the twelfth century,



through all parts of the continent, involving both rich cities



and the poorest towns. And if we may say that, as a rule, the



Italian cities were the first to free themselves, we can assign



no centre from which the movement would have spread. Very often a



small burg in central Europe took the lead for its region, and



big agglomerations accepted the little town's charter as a model



for their own. Thus, the charter of a small town, Lorris, was



adopted by eighty-three towns in south-west France, and that of



Beaumont became the model for over five hundred towns and cities



in Belgium and France. Special deputies were dispatched by the



cities to their neighbours to obtain a copy from their charter,



and the constitution was framed upon that model. However, they



did not simply copy each other: they framed their own charters in



accordance with the concessions they had obtained from their



lords; and the result was that, as remarked by an historian, the



charters of the medieval communes offer the same variety as the



Gothic architecture of their churches and cathedrals. The same



leading ideas in all of them -- the cathedral symbolizing the



union of parish and guild in the, city -- and the same infinitely



rich variety of detail.



    Self-jurisdiction was the essential point, and



self-jurisdiction meant self-administration. But the commune was



not simply an "autonomous" part of the State -- such ambiguous



words had not yet been invented by that time -- it was a State in



itself. It had the right of war and peace, of federation and



alliance with its neighbours. It was sovereign in its own



affairs, and mixed with no others. The supreme political power



could be vested entirely in a democratic forum, as was the case



in Pskov, whose vyeche sent and received ambassadors, concluded



treaties, accepted and sent away princes, or went on without them



for dozens of years; or it was vested in, or usurped by, an



aristocracy of merchants or even nobles, as was the case in



hundreds of Italian and middle European cities. The principle,



nevertheless, remained the same: the city was a State and -- what



was perhaps still more remarkable -- when the power in the city



was usurped by an aristocracy of merchants or even nobles, the



inner life of the city and the democratism of its daily life did



not disappear: they depended but little upon what may be called



the political form of the State.



    The secret of this seeming anomaly lies in the fact that a



medieval city was not a centralized State. During the first



centuries of its existence, the city hardly could be named a



State as regards its interior organization, because the middle



ages knew no more of the present centralization of functions than



of the present territorial centralization. Each group had its



share of sovereignty. The city was usually divided into four



quarters, or into five to seven sections radiating from a centre,



each quarter or section roughly corresponding to a certain trade



or profession which prevailed in it, but nevertheless containing



inhabitants of different social positions and occupations --



nobles, merchants, artisans, or even half-serfs; and each section



or quarter constituted a quite independent agglomeration. In



Venice, each island was an independent political community. It



had its own organized trades, its own commerce in salt, its own



jurisdiction and administration, its own forum; and the



nomination of a doge by the city changed nothing in the inner



independence of the units.42 In Cologne, we see the



inhabitants divided into Geburschaften and Heimschaften



(viciniae), i.e. neighbour guilds, which dated from the



Franconian period. Each of them had its judge (Burrichter) and



the usual twelve elected sentence-finders (Schöffen), its Vogt,



and its greve or commander of the local militia.43 The story



of early London before the Conquest -- Mr. Green says -- is that



"of a number of little groups scattered here and there over the



area within the walls, each growing up with its own life and



institutions, guilds, sokes, religious houses and the like, and



only slowly drawing together into a municipal union."44 And if



we refer to the annals of the Russian cities, Novgorod and Pskov,



both of which are relatively rich in local details, we find the



section (konets) consisting of independent streets (ulitsa), each



of which, though chiefly peopled with artisans of a certain



craft, had also merchants and landowners among its inhabitants,



and was a separate community. It had the communal responsibility



of all members in case of crime, its own jurisdiction and



administration by street aldermen (ulichanskiye starosty), its



own seal and, in case of need, its own forum; its own militia, as



also its self-elected priests and its, own collective life and



collective enterprise.45



    The medieval city thus appears as a double federation: of all



householders united into small territorial unions -- the street,



the parish, the section -- and of individuals united by oath into



guilds according to their professions; the former being a produce



of the village-community origin of the city, while the second is



a subsequent growth called to life by new conditions.







    To guarantee liberty, self-administration, and peace was the



chief aim of the medieval city. and labour, as we shall presently



see when speaking of the craft guilds, was its chief foundation.



But "production" did not absorb the whole attention of the



medieval economist. With his practical mind, he understood that



"consumption" must be guaranteed in order to obtain production;



and therefore, to provide for "the common first food and lodging



of poor and rich alike" (gemeine notdurft und gemach armer und



richer46) was the fundamental principle in each city. The



purchase of food supplies and other first necessaries (coal,



wood, etc.) before they had reached the market, or altogether in



especially favourable conditions from which others would be



excluded -- the preempcio, in a word -- was entirely prohibited.



Everything had to go to the market and be offered there for every



one's purchase, till the ringing of the bell had closed the



market. Then only could the retailer buy the remainder, and even



then his profit should be an "honest profit" only.47 Moreover,



when corn was bought by a baker wholesale after the close of the



market, every citizen had the right to claim part of the corn



(about half-a-quarter) for his own use, at wholesale price, if he



did so before the final conclusion of the bargain; and



reciprocally, every baker could claim the same if the citizen



purchased corn for re-selling it. In the first case, the corn had



only to be brought to the town mill to be ground in its proper



turn for a settled price, and the bread could be baked in the



four banal, or communal oven.48 In short, if a scarcity



visited the city, all had to suffer from it more or less; but



apart from the calamities, so long as the free cities existed no



one could die in their midst from starvation, as is unhappily too



often the case in our own times.



    However, all such regulations belong to later periods of the



cities' life, while at an earlier period it was the city itself



which used to buy all food supplies for the use of the citizens.



The documents recently published by Mr. Gross are quite positive



on this point and fully support his conclusion to the effect that



the cargoes of subsistences "were purchased by certain civic



officials in the name of the town, and then distributed in shares



among the merchant burgesses, no one being allowed to buy wares



landed in the port unless the municipal authorities refused to



purchase them. This seem -- she adds -- to have been quite a



common practice in England, Ireland, Wales and Scotland."49



Even in the sixteenth century we find that common purchases of



corn were made for the "comoditie and profitt in all things of



this.... Citie and Chamber of London, and of all the Citizens and



Inhabitants of the same as moche as in us lieth" -- as the Mayor



wrote in 1565.50 In Venice, the whole of the trade in corn is



well known to have been in the hands of the city; the "quarters,"



on receiving the cereals from the board which administrated the



imports, being bound to send to every citizen's house the



quantity allotted to him.51 In France, the city of Amiens used



to purchase salt and to distribute it to all citizens at cost



price;52 and even now one sees in many French towns the halles



which formerly were municipal dépôts for corn and salt.53 In



Russia it was a regular custom in Novgorod and Pskov.



    The whole matter relative to the communal purchases for the



use of the citizens, and the manner in which they used to be



made, seems not to have yet received proper attention from the



historians of the period; but there are here and there some very



interesting facts which throw a new light upon it. Thus there is,



among Mr. Gross's documents, a Kilkenny ordinance of the year



1367, from which we learn how the prices of the goods were



established. "The merchants and the sailors," Mr. Gross writes,



"were to state on oath the first cost of the goods and the



expenses of transportation. Then the mayor of the town and two



discreet men were to name the price at which the wares were to be



sold." The same rule held good in Thurso for merchandise coming



"by sea or land." This way of "naming the price" so well answers



to the very conceptions of trade which were current in medieval



times that it must have been all but universal. To have the price



established by a third person was a very old custom; and for all



interchange within the city it certainly was a widely-spread



habit to leave the establishment of prices to "discreet men" --



to a third party -- and not to the vendor or the buyer. But this



order of things takes us still further back in the history of



trade -- namely, to a time when trade in staple produce was



carried on by the whole city, and the merchants were only the



commissioners, the trustees, of the city for selling the goods



which it exported. A Waterford ordinance, published also by Mr.



Gross, says "that all manere of marchandis what so ever kynde



thei be of... shal be bought by the Maire and balives which bene



commene biers [common buyers, for the town] for the time being,



and to distribute the same on freemen of the citie (the propre



goods of free citisains and inhabitants only excepted)." This



ordinance can Hardly be explained otherwise than by admitting



that all the exterior trade of the town was carried on by its



agents. Moreover, we have direct evidence of such having been the



case for Novgorod and Pskov. It was the Sovereign Novgorod and



the Sovereign Pskov who sent their caravans of merchants to



distant lands.



    We know also that in nearly all medieval cities of Middle and



Western Europe, the craft guilds used to buy, as a body, all



necessary raw produce, and to sell the produce of their work



through their officials, and it is hardly possible that the same



should not have been done for exterior trade -- the more so as it



is well known that up to the thirteenth century, not only all



merchants of a given city were considered abroad as responsible



in a body for debts contracted by any one of them, but the whole



city as well was responsible for the debts of each one of its



merchants. Only in the twelfth and thirteenth century the towns



on the Rhine entered into special treaties abolishing this



responsibility.54 And finally we have the remarkable Ipswich



document published by Mr. Gross, from which document we learn



that the merchant guild of this town was constituted by all who



had the freedom of the city, and who wished to pay their



contribution ("their hanse") to the guild, the whole community



discussing all together how better to maintain the merchant



guild, and giving it certain privileges. The merchant guild of



Ipswich thus appears rather as a body of trustees of the town



than as a common private guild.



    In short, the more we begin to know the mediaeval city the



more we see that it was not simply a political organization for



the protection of certain political liberties. It was an attempt



at organizing, on a much grander scale than in a village



community, a close union for mutual aid and support, for



consumption and production, and for social life altogether,



without imposing upon men the fetters of the State, but giving



full liberty of expression to the creative genius of each



separate group of individuals in art, crafts, science, commerce,



and political organization. How far this attempt has been



successful will be best seen when we have analyzed in the next



chapter the organization of labour in the medieval city and the



relations of the cities with the surrounding peasant population.











Notes

1 W. Arnold, in his Wanderungen und Ansiedelungen der deutschen

Stämme, p. 431, even maintains that one-half of the now arable

area in middle Germany must have been reclaimed from the sixth to

the ninth century. Nitzsch (Geschichte des deutschen Volkes,

Leipzig, 1883, vol. i.) shares the same opinion.



2 Leo and Botta, Histoire d'Italie, French edition, 1844, t. i.,

p. 37.



3 The composition for the stealing of a simple knife was 15

solidii and of the iron parts of a mill, 45 solidii (See on this

subject Lamprecht's Wirthschaft und Recht der Franken in Raumer's

Historisches Taschenbuch, 1883, p. 52.) According to the Riparian

law, the sword, the spear, and the iron armour of a warrior

attained the value of at least twenty-five cows, or two years of

a freeman's labour. A cuirass alone was valued in the Salic law

(Desmichels, quoted by Michelet) at as much as thirty-six bushels

of wheat.



4 The chief wealth of the chieftains, for a long time, was in

their personal domains peopled partly with prisoner slaves, but

chiefly in the above way. On the origin of property see Inama

Sternegg's Die Ausbildung der grossen Grundherrschaften in

Deutschland, in Schmoller's Forschungen, Bd. I., 1878; F. Dahn's

Urgeschichte der germanischen und romanischen Völker, Berlin,

1881; Maurer's Dorfverfassung; Guizot's Essais sur l'histoire de

France; Maine's Village Community; Botta's Histoire d'Italie;

Seebohm, Vinogradov, J. R. Green, etc.



5 See Sir Henry Maine's International Law, London, 1888.



6 Ancient Laws of Ireland, Introduction; E. Nys, Etudes de droit

international, t. i., 1896, pp. 86 seq. Among the Ossetes the

arbiters from three oldest villages enjoy a special reputation

(M. Kovalevsky's Modern Custom and Old Law, Moscow, 1886, ii.

217, Russian).



7 It is permissible to think that this conception (related to

the conception of tanistry) played an important part in the life

of the period; but research has not yet been directed that way.



8 It was distinctly stated in the charter of St. Quentin of the

year 1002 that the ransom for houses which had to be demolished

for crimes went for the city walls. The same destination was

given to the Ungeld in German cities. At Pskov the cathedral was

the bank for the fines, and from this fund money was taken for

the wails.



9 Sohm, Fränkische Rechts- und Gerichtsverfassung, p. 23; also

Nitzsch, Geschechte des deutschen Volkes, i. 78.



10 See the excellent remarks on this subject in Augustin

Thierry's Lettres sur l'histoire de France. 7th Letter. The

barbarian translations of parts of the Bible are extremely

instructive on this point.



11 Thirty-six times more than a noble, according to the

Anglo-Saxon law. In the code of Rothari the slaying of a king is,

however, punished by death; but (apart from Roman influence) this

new disposition was introduced (in 646) in the Lombardian law --

as remarked by Leo and Botta -- to cover the king from blood

revenge. The king being at that time the executioner of his own

sentences (as the tribe formerly was of its own sentences), he

had to be protected by a special disposition, the more so as

several Lombardian kings before Rothari had been slain in

succession (Leo and Botta, l.c., i. 66-90).



12 Kaufmann, Deutsche Geschichte, Bd. I. "Die Germanen der

Urzeit," p. 133.



13 Dr. F. Dahn, Urgeschichte der germanischen und romanischen

Völker, Berlin, 1881, Bd. I. 96.



14 If I thus follow the views long since advocated by Maurer

(Geschichte der Städteverfassung in Deutschland, Erlangen, 1869),

it is because he has fully proved the uninterrupted evolution

from the village community to the mediaeval city, and that his

views alone can explain the universality of the communal

movement. Savigny and Eichhorn and their followers have certainly

proved that the traditions of the Roman municipia had never

totally disappeared. But they took no account of the village

community period which the barbarians lived through before they

had any cities. The fact is, that whenever mankind made a new

start in civilization, in Greece, Rome, or middle Europe, it

passed through the same stages -- the tribe, the village

community, the free city, the state -- each one naturally

evolving out of the preceding stage. Of course, the experience of

each preceding civilization was never lost. Greece (itself

influenced by Eastern civilizations) influenced Rome, and Rome

influenced our civilization; but each of them begin from the same

beginning -- the tribe. And just as we cannot say that our states

are continuations of the Roman state, so also can we not say that

the mediaeval cities of Europe (including Scandinavia and Russia)

were a continuation of the Roman cities. They were a continuation

of the barbarian village community, influenced to a certain

extent by the traditions of the Roman towns.



15 M. Kovalevsky, Modern Customs and Ancient Laws of Russia

(Ilchester Lectures, London, 1891, Lecture 4).



16 A considerable amount of research had to be done before this

character of the so-called udyelnyi period was properly

established by the works of Byelaeff (Tales from Russian

History), Kostomaroff (The Beginnings of Autocracy in Russia),

and especially Professor Sergievich (The Vyeche and the Prince).

The English reader may find some information about this period in

the just-named work of M. Kovalevsky, in Rambaud's History of

Russia, and, in a short summary, in the article "Russia" of the

last edition of Chambers's Encyclopaedia.



17 Ferrari, Histoire des révolutions d'Italie, i. 257; Kallsen,

Die deutschen Städte im Mittelalter, Bd. I. (Halle, 1891).



18 See the excellent remarks of Mr. G.L. Gomme as regards the

folkmote of London (The Literature of Local Institutions, London,

1886, p. 76). It must, however, be remarked that in royal cities

the folkmote never attained the independence which it assumed

elsewhere. It is even certain that Moscow and Paris were chosen

by the kings and the Church as the cradles of the future royal

authority in the State, because they did not possess the

tradition of folkmotes accustomed to act as sovereign in all

matters.



19 A. Luchaire, Les Communes françaises; also Kluckohn,

Geschichte des Gottesfrieden, 1857. L. Sémichon (La paix et la

trève de Dieu, 2 vols., Paris, 1869) has tried to represent the

communal movement as issued from that institution. In reality,

the treuga Dei, like the league started under Louis le Gros for

the defence against both the robberies of the nobles and the

Norman invasions, was a thoroughly popular movement. The only

historian who mentions this last league -- that is, Vitalis --

describes it as a "popular community" ("Considérations sur

l'histoire de France," in vol. iv. of Aug. Thierry's OEuvres,

Paris, 1868, p. 191 and note).



20 Ferrari, i. 152, 263, etc.



21 Perrens, Histoire de Florence, i. 188; Ferrari, l.c., i. 283.



22 Aug. Thierry, Essai sur l'histoire du Tiers Etat, Paris,

1875, p. 414, note.



23 F. Rocquain, "La Renaissance au XIIe siècle," in Etudes sur

l'histoire de France, Paris, 1875, pp. 55-117.



24 N. Kostomaroff, "The Rationalists of the Twelfth Century," in

his Monographies and Researches (Russian).



25 Very interesting facts relative to the universality of guilds

will be found in "Two Thousand Years of Guild Life," by Rev. J.

M. Lambert, Hull, 1891. On the Georgian amkari, see S.

Eghiazarov, Gorodskiye Tsekhi ("Organization of Transcaucasian

Amkari"), in Memoirs of the Caucasian Geographical Society, xiv.

2, 1891.



26 J.D. Wunderer's "Reisebericht" in Fichard's Frankfurter

Archiv, ii. 245; quoted by Janssen, Geschichte des deutschen

Volkes, i. 355.



27 Dr. Leonard Ennen, Der Dom zu Köln, Historische Einleitung,

Köln, 1871, pp. 46, 50.



28 See previous chapter.



29 Kofod Ancher, Om gamle Danske Gilder og deres Undergang,

Copenhagen, 1785. Statutes of a Knu guild.



30 Upon the position of women in guilds, see Miss Toulmin

Smith's introductory remarks to the English Guilds of her father.

One of the Cambridge statutes (p. 281) of the year 1503 is quite

positive in the following sentence: "Thys statute is made by the

comyne assent of all the bretherne and sisterne of alhallowe

yelde."



31 In medieval times, only secret aggression was treated as a

murder. Blood-revenge in broad daylight was justice; and slaying

in a quarrel was not murder, once the aggressor showed his

willingness to repent and to repair the wrong he had done. Deep

traces of this distinction still exist in modern criminal law,

especially in Russia.



32 Kofod Ancher, l.c. This old booklet contains much that has

been lost sight of by later explorers.



33 They played an important part in the revolts of the serfs,

and were therefore prohibited several times in succession in the

second half of the ninth century. Of course, the king's

prohibitions remained a dead letter.



34 The medieval Italian painters were also organized in guilds,

which became at a later epoch Academies of art. If the Italian

art of those times is impressed with so much individuality that

we distinguish, even now, between the different schools of Padua,

Bassano, Treviso, Verona, and so on, although all these cities

were under the sway of Venice, this was due -- J. Paul Richter

remarks -- to the fact that the painters of each city belonged to

a separate guild, friendly with the guilds of other towns, but

leading a separate existence. The oldest guild-statute known is

that of Verona, dating from 1303, but evidently copied from some

much older statute. "Fraternal assistance in necessity of

whatever kind," "hospitality towards strangers, when passing

through the town, as thus information may be obtained about

matters which one may like to learn," and "obligation of offering

comfort in case of debility" are among the obligations of the

members (Nineteenth Century, Nov. 1890, and Aug. 1892).



35 The chief works on the artels are named in the article

"Russia" of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, 9th edition, p. 84.



36 See, for instance, the texts of the Cambridge guilds given by

Toulmin Smith (English Guilds, London, 1870, pp. 274-276), from

which it appears that the "generall and principall day" was the

"eleccioun day;" or, Ch. M. Clode's The Early History of the

Guild of the Merchant Taylors, London, 1888, i. 45; and so on.

For the renewal of allegiance, see the Jómsviking saga, mentioned

in Pappenheim's Altdänische Schutzgilden, Breslau, 1885, p. 67.

It appears very probable that when the guilds began to be

prosecuted, many of them inscribed in their statutes the meal day

only, or their pious duties, and only alluded to the judicial

function of the guild in vague words; but this function did not

disappear till a very much later time. The question, "Who will be

my judge?" has no meaning now, since the State has appropriated

for its bureaucracy the organization of justice; but it was of

primordial importance in medieval times, the more so as

self-jurisdiction meant self-administration. It must also be

remarked that the translation of the Saxon and Danish

"guild-bretheren," or "brodre," by the Latin convivii must also

have contributed to the above confusion.



37 See the excellent remarks upon the frith guild by J.R. Green

and Mrs. Green in The Conquest of England, London, 1883, pp.

229-230.



38 See Appendix X.



39 Recueil des ordonnances des rois de France, t. xii. 562;

quoted by Aug. Thierry in Considérations sur l'histoire de

France, p. 196, ed. 12mo.



40 A. Luchaire, Les Communes françaises, pp, 45-46.



41 Guilbert de Nogent, De vita sua, quoted by Luchaire, l.c., p.

14.



42 Lebret, Histoire de Venise, i. 393; also Marin, quoted by Leo

and Botta in Histoire de l'Italie, French edition, 1844, t. i

500.



43 Dr. W. Arnold, Verfassungsgeschichte der deutschen

Freistädte, 1854, Bd. ii. 227 seq.; Ennen, Geschichte der Stadt

Koeln, Bd. i. 228-229; also the documents published by Ennen and

Eckert.



44 Conquest of England, 1883, p. 453.



45 Byelaeff, Russian History, vols. ii. and iii.



46 W. Gramich, Verfassungs- und Verwaltungsgeschichte der Stadt

Würzburg im 13. bis zum 15. Jahrhundert, Würzburg, 1882, p. 34.



47 When a boat brought a cargo of coal to Würzburg, coal could

only be sold in retail during the first eight days, each family

being entitled to no more than fifty basketfuls. The remaining

cargo could be sold wholesale, but the retailer was allowed to

raise a zittlicher profit only, the unzittlicher, or dishonest

profit, being strictly forbidden (Gramich, l.c.). Same in London

(Liber albus, quoted by Ochenkowski, p. 161), and, in fact,

everywhere.



48 See Fagniez, Etudes sur l'industrie et la classe industrielle

à Paris au XIIIme et XIVme siècle, Paris, 1877, pp. 155 seq. It

hardly need be added that the tax on bread, and on beer as well,

was settled after careful experiments as to the quantity of bread

and beer which could be obtained from a given amount of corn. The

Amiens archives contain the minutes of such experiences (A. de

Calonne, l.c. pp. 77, 93). Also those of London (Ochenkowski,

England's wirthschaftliche Entwickelung, etc., Jena, 1879, p.

165).



49 Ch. Gross, The Guild Merchant, Oxford, 1890, i. 135. His

documents prove that this practice existed in Liverpool (ii.

148-150), Waterford in Ireland, Neath in Wales, and Linlithgow

and Thurso in Scotland. Mr. Gross's texts also show that the

purchases were made for distribution, not only among the merchant

burgesses, but "upon all citsains and commynalte" (p. 136, note),

or, as the Thurso ordinance of the seventeenth century runs, to

"make offer to the merchants, craftsmen, and inhabitants of the

said burgh, that they may have their proportion of the same,

according to their necessitys and ability."



50 The Early History of the Guild of Merchant Taylors, by

Charles M. Clode, London, 1888, i. 361, appendix 10; also the

following appendix which shows that the same purchases were made

in 1546.



51 Cibrario, Les conditions économiques de l'Italie au temps de

Dante, Paris, 1865, p. 44.



52 A. de Calonne, La vie municipale au XVme siècle dans le Nord

de la France, Paris, 1880, pp. 12-16. In 1485 the city permitted

the export to Antwerp of a certain quantity of corn, "the

inhabitants of Antwerp being always ready to be agreeable to the

merchants and burgesses of Amiens" (ibid., pp. 75-77 and texts).



53 A. Babeau, La ville sous l'ancien régime, Paris, 1880.



54 Ennen, Geschichte der Stadt Köln, i. 491, 492, also texts.





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