Comma for either/or — dharma, courage. Spelling forgiving — corage finds courage.

    The Evolution of Property from Savagery to Civilization

    II (2)

    Paul Lafargue

    25 min

    The feudal system appears as the hierarchical organisation of authority, notwithstanding that it was the outgrowth of a society of equals; but equality could never have brought forth despotism but for the co-operation, during centuries, of events which, for the understanding of that genesis, must be kept in mind.

    The Teutonic tribes who had invaded Western Europe were a nomad population, in a state of barbarism nearly akin to that of the Iroquois tribes at the time of the discovery of America. Strabo tells us that the barbarians established in Belgium and in the North-East of France were ignorant of agriculture, and lived exclusively on milk and flesh; principally on pork, fresh or salt; that they possessed herds of swine – savage and dangerous as wolves – roaming at large in the immense forests which covered the country, and so abundant as to supply them with food and the means of buying the few articles they stood in need of. Strabo adds that the Gauls had similar manners, and that to know them it required but to contemplate the Germans of his time. When Cæsar landed in England he found that the Britons inhabiting Kent possessed much the same manners and customs as the Gauls; they did not till the land; they subsisted on a milk diet and on flesh, and were clad in skins. They painted their bodies blue in order to strike terror into their enemies, and had their wives in common by groups of ten or twelve, including brothers, fathers and sons. In Europe and elsewhere the point of departure is the same.

    The widest equality reigned among these barbarians, who were all warriors and hunters, and whose manners and usages tended to preserve this heroic equality. When they settled and began to practise a rude kind of agriculture, they undertook warlike expeditions for the purpose of keeping up the exercise of fighting. A war chief of renown needed but to announce that he was starting on a campaign to see warriors flock to him, eager for spoils and glory. During the expedition they owed him obedience, as did the Greek warriors to Agamemnon, but they ate at the same table and banqueted with him without distinction of persons, and the booty was divided equally and by lot. Back again in their villages, they recovered their independence and equality, and the war chief lost his authority.

    It is in this free and equal fashion that the Scandinavians, and in fact all barbarians, organised their expeditions. These piratical manners prevailed during the whole of the middle ages; when William the Conqueror and Pope Innocent III wanted to levy an army against the English and the Albigenses, it was only necessary for them to promise a division of the spoils taken from the vanquished. Before the battle of Hastings, just as the troops were about to engage in fight, William, with a loud voice called out to his soldiers:

    “Fight bravely and put all to death; if we win, we shall all be rich; what I get, you shall get; if I conquer, you will conquer? if I obtain the land, you will obtain it.”

    His Holiness the Pope used similar language on the 10th of March, in the year 1208, on stirring up the faithful to fight the heretic Albigenses:

    “Up now, soldiers of Christ; root out impiety by every means that God may have revealed to you (the means that the Lord had revealed were fire, rapine, and murder), drive out of their castles the Earl of Toulouse and his vassals, and seize upon their lands, that the orthodox Catholics may be established in the dominions of the heretics.”

    The Crusades which launched the warriors of Europe on the East were similarly organised, having the delivery of the Holy Sepulchre for pretence and plunder for object.

    When the barbarians, in quest of territory, had conquered a country, they either put the inhabitants to death (as the Hebrews did, by Divine order), or contented themselves with ransacking the towns; they settled in the country, which they set about cultivating in their own way, and allowed the vanquished to live alongside of them according to their own customs and usages. But when they became sedentary and cultivators of the land, they little by little lost their warlike habits, although some of them remained invincibly attached to the primitive manners. The Germans observed by Tacitus had already lost some of their savage fierceness; they had established themselves and become addicted to agriculture; the tribe of the Catti, however, were dedicated to war. Always in the forefront of battle, they occupied the most dangerous posts; they possessed neither houses nor lands, nor had they cares of any sort. Wherever they presented themselves they were entertained. These warriors formed a kind of standing army, charged with defending those of their countrymen who were engaged in agricultural pursuits.

    But no sooner had the invading barbarians established themselves and lost their native vigour than other barbarians pounced upon them as on an easy prey, and treated them like a conquered people. During many centuries compact masses of barbarians overran Europe: in the east, the Goths, Germans, and Huns; in the north and west, the Scandinavians; in the south, the Arabians; desolating the towns and country in their passage. And when from east and north and south this human flood had ceased to pour down into Europe, and when the barbarians had lost their nomadic habits and resumed the work of civilisation which they had arrested and frustrated, there was unloosed another scourge; bands of armed men overspread the country, plundering and ransacking and levying contributions on every side; the battle over, the soldiers of the hostile armies fraternised and started on an expedition on their own account.

    During many centuries people lived in continual fear of robbery, kidnapping and murder. The invasions of the barbarians that ruined and disorganised the country did not prevent the tribes already settled from quarrelling among themselves. These constant internecine quarrels render barbarian nations powerless in the face of strangers; they are unable to stifle their clan hatreds and their village feuds in front of a common enemy. Tacitus, intent solely on the supremacy of the Romans, adjured the gods to foment this disastrous discord; for, said he, “fortune can bestow no higher benefit on Rome than the dissensions of her enemies.”

    The inhabitants of the towns and provinces were constrained, for safety’s sake, to live in fortified places. The charters of Auvergne of the 11th and 12th centuries designate such villages by the term of castra (camp). In the towns and boroughs houses were constructed in view of the necessity of sustaining a siege.

    The village collectivities which, at the outset, were composed almost exclusively of individuals belonging to the same clan, and consequently equals, elected chieftains charged with their defence, who eventually came to gather into their hands the several rights of jurisdiction, of settling differences, of interpreting the customs, and maintaining order. The Franks in their barbarous Latin called such a chieftain graffio, from graf the German for count. The elected chief of the village collectivities are the feudal barons in embryo.

    In the beginning they were simply public officers subjected to the authority of the council of the elders and the popular assemblies, and with the execution of whose decisions they were charged; they were severely punished for every neglect of duty. The graffio of the Frankish tribes who omitted to expel a stranger whose expulsion had been voted by the assembly was amerced in a fine of 200 gold solidi (Lex Salica). This was exactly the sum assessed as composition for murder (Weregild).

    The powers which were at a later date to become the appanage of the feudal lords, belonged to the community met in full assembly (Folkmoote). All of the inhabitants were bound to attend in arms, under penalty of a fine; certain village collectivities possessed serfs, as, later on, did the lords.

    The laws of Wales, collected in 940, by order of King Hoel-Du, and published in 1841 by A. Owen, indicate the mode of election and the qualities and the functions of these village chiefs which do not substantially differ from those of the barbarian war-chief. The chief of the clan was chosen by all the heads of families having wives and legitimate offspring, and he held his office for life; among certain peoples his functions were temporary and revocable. It was imperative “that he should speak on behalf of his kin and be listened to; that he should fight on behalf of his kin and be feared; that he should be security on behalf of his kin and be accepted.” When he administered justice he was assisted by the seven oldest villagers; under his orders stood an avenger, charged with executing vengeance; for justice at that epoch was but revenge – the lex talionis – blow for blow, wound for wound. On the first alarm, after the clamour, called haro by the Normans and biafor by the Basques, the inhabitants were bound to issue forth from their houses, in arms, and place themselves under their chieftain’s command; he was the military chief, to whom all owed fidelity and obedience. Whoever failed to respond to his appeal was fined. In certain boroughs we find a military organisation, e.g., at Tarbes the inhabitants were formed into tithings having at their head a tithing-man, whose office it was to see that all the men were armed and that their arms were in good condition.

    All functions amongst barbarian tribes tend to become vested in certain families; the weaver’s, smith’s, priest’s, and magician’s callings are handed down from father to son; it is in this way that castes arise. The chief, charged with the maintenance of order at home and the duty of defence abroad, was chosen out of the body of the inhabitants; but little by little it became the habit to choose him out of the same family, which, ultimately, itself designated the chief of the community and omitted the formality of an election. It would be erroneous to suppose that in the beginning the chieftainship carried with it any special privilege; so far, indeed, was chieftainship from being coveted, that the man elected by the community was made liable to a fine if he refused to accept the charge. At Folkestone, if either the mayor or any of the jurats refused to assume their respective offices upon being elected, “the commoners were to go and beat down their principal messuage.” At Hastings it was a law that “if the bailiff will not accept the charge all the commoners shall go and beat down his tenement.”

    Greatness was dangerous: the Scandinavians, in great calamities – in a pressing famine, for example – sacrificed their king, as the highest price with which they could purchase the Divine favour. In this manner the first king of Vermaland, a province of Sweden, was burnt in honour of Odin, to put an end to a great dearth. Earl Hakon, of Norway, offered his son in sacrifice to obtain of Odin the victory over the Jomsburg pirates, and Gideon immolated his daughter to Jehovah for a similar reason.

    The Indian village communities observed in our day have, for public officers, weavers, smiths, school-masters, brahmins, dancers, etc., who are in the service of the community which rewards them by a lodging, an allowance of grain, and the allotment of a plot of land cultivated by the villagers.

    “In early Greece the demiurgoi seem to be the analogues of these Hindoo officials. Homer mentions the herald, the prophet, the bard, all of whom, although we cannot trace their exact position, appear to have exercised some kind of public function. Among the Keltic clans similar classes are known to have existed.”

    The chiefs elected by the village collectivities were treated in the same way as the officers of the Hindoo villages: their companions, in reward of their services, allotted them a larger share of land than to the rest of the inhabitants. Thus, in the borough of Malmesbury, the alderman, who was the chief man, was annually granted a piece of land, known as the “Alderman’s kitchen,” in order that he might devote himself exclusively to the discharge of his office; his fields were cultivated by the commoners, who allowed him a share in their harvest and livestock.

    At the outset no special distinction marks out the elected chief; but the practice of continuously choosing him in the same family ended by creating a privilege that was changed into a hereditary right; the head of the privileged family became, by right of succession, and without requiring to submit to an election, the natural chief of the village. The royal authority had no other origin than this in the Frankish tribes. The leudes must be the heads of the families of the clan which are charged with furnishing the military chieftains; just as, among the Hebrews, the tribes of Levy must furnish the priests. They resided with the king and were partakers of the royal councils; upon occasions they resisted him and even offered him violence; it was these leudes who elected the king, whose functions became hereditary.

    The village collectivities were perpetually at war with one another; in the partitions of the conquered lands the share of the chieftain and his family was, doubtless, more considerable than that of the commoners; to the privilege of birth was gradually superadded that of property.

    On electing the village chief, the choice fell, we may presume, on the owner of the most spacious dwelling-house, affording the greatest facilities of defence and the best place of refuge for the peasants on an emergency. This strategical advantage, which, originally, may have been a matter of accident, came to be a condition exacted from every chieftain; in the Indian villages beyond the border the burj, or watch tower, is always attached to the house of the chief, and in constant use as a place of refuge and observation. During the feudal period every lord was bound to possess a castle or fortified house having a courtyard protected by moats and drawbridges, a large square tower and a grist mill, to enable the peasants to shelter their crops and cattle, grind their corn and organise their defence. The chieftain’s dwelling-house was considered as a sort of common house, and actually became such in times of danger. The members of the village collectivities applied themselves to repairing and fortifying it, surrounding it with walls and trenches; it was the custom for the members of a village to aid in the construction and repair of the houses of all the inhabitants without distinction. This custom is the origin of the right possessed by the feudal lord “to compel his vassals and tenants to contribute towards the construction of the fortifications in time of war.” And the commentary of the feudal writer indicates the origin of the right.

    ”And as these fortifications serve alike for the security of the country and the towns, the safety of persons, and the conservation of property, non-residents owning lands in the locality are bound to contribute towards the same.”

    The barbarians, who were more of warriors than of cultivators, defended their houses and villages themselves; on the first alarm they rushed forth in battle array and placed themselves under the command of the chieftain, to assist him in beating back the aggressors; in the watch tower they mounted guard by day and watched at night; in many places the lord retained the right to exact from his vassals this service of watch and ward. But when agricultural habits began to get the upper hand, the peasants commuted this military service, which interfered with their pursuits, into a tribute to the chief; on condition that he should maintain a body of men-at-arms, charged exclusively with the work of protection and defence. A proportion of every fine imposed on a delinquent was reserved for the chieftain and his men-at-arms. The chief was thus placed in a position to maintain an armed force which finally enabled him to impose his will and dominate his ancient companions.

    The village built in the best strategical positions became a centre; in the event of invasion the inhabitants of the adjacent villages flocked to it for refuge, and in return for the protection afforded them in the hour of danger they were called on to contribute towards the costs of repairing the fortifications and maintaining the men at arms. The authority of these village chiefs extended to the surrounding country.

    In this natural manner were generated in the collectivist villages, all of whose members were equal in rights and duties, the first elements of feudalism; they would have remained stable during centuries, as in India, but for the impulse of external events which disturbed them and infused them with new life. Wars and conquests developed these embryonic germs, and by agglomerating and combining them, built up the vast feudal system diffused during the Middle Ages, over Western Europe.

    What in modern times has taken place in India helps us to realise the role of conquest in transforming the village chieftain into the feudal baron. When the English, established along the sea coasts, extended their dominion inland, they were brought into contact with villager organised in the manner described above; every agricultural group was commanded by a peasant, the head-man, who spoke in its name, and negotiated with the conquerors. The English authorities did not trouble to inquire into the origin and precise nature of his powers, or of the office held by him in the community; they preferred to take for granted that he was the master of the village of which he was but the representative, and to treat him as such; they enhanced and solidified his authority by all the weight conferred by the right of the strongest, and on divers occasions assisted the head-man in oppressing his quondam companions, and despoiling them of their rights and possessions.

    The mediæval conquerors acted in an analogous fashion; they confirmed the local chiefs in their possession of those posts in the villages which were too unimportant to be bestowed as benefices on their liege-men, and, in return, made them responsible for the levying of the taxes and the conduct of their dependants, thereby according them an authority they had not previously possessed in the village collectivities. But in every strategical place they installed one of their own warriors; it was a military post which they confided to him; the length of tenure of such posts, called benefices, was subject to variation; at first, they were revoked at pleasure, afterwards granted for life, and ultimately became hereditary. The beneficiary tenants took advantage of circumstances to turn their hereditary possessions into alodial property, i.e., into land exempt from all obligations. In France the early kings were repeatedly obliged to make ordinances against this kind of usurpation. “Let not him who holds a benefice of the emperor or the church convert any of it into his patrimony,” says Charlemagne in a capitulary of the year 803 (Cap. viii., s.3). But such ordinances were powerless to prevent the conversion of military chiefs into feudal barons. It may be said, therefore, that the feudal system had a dual origin; on the one hand it grew out of the conditions under which the village collectivities evolved, and on the other it sprang from conquest.

    The feudal barons, whether village-chiefs transmogrified by the natural march of events, or military chieftains installed by the conquerors, were bound to reside in the country which it was their duty to administer and defend. The territory they possessed and the dues they received, in the shape of labour and tithes, were the recompense of services rendered by them to the cultivators placed under their jurisdiction. The barons and their men-at-arms formed a permanent army, nourished and maintained by the inhabitants whom they directly protected.

    The baron owed justice, aid, and protection to his vassals, and these, in their turn, owed fidelity and homage to their lord. At every change, consequent on the death of either lords or vassals, the vassal was bound, within a space of 40 days, to repair to the principal manor there and not elsewhere, to indicate that he only swore fealty prospectively to a refuge in the baron’s castle; if the lord was absent and had left no representative, the vassal made a vow of fealty in front of the manor-door, and caused the fact to be entered on the records. He was bound to come with his head uncovered and his belt ungirt, without sword and spurs, and to kneel down with his hands joined. The lord, in accepting his oath, took his vassal’s hands into his own, in token of union and protection. The vassal thereupon enumerated the lands and dependencies which he placed under the safeguard of his lord; in early times he brought with him a clod of turf from his fields. Occasionally, too, the lord was the first to take his engagements towards his vassals. In the Fors de Bigorre (customary of Bigorre), it is said that the Comte de Bigorre,

    “before receiving the oath of the inhabitants of the land, delegated to that effect, shall himself take the oath that he will change nothing in the ancient customs, nor in such as he shall find the people in possession of; he must have his oath confirmed by that of four nobles of his domain.”

    The vassal owed military service to his lord when a foreign army had invaded his territory, when he wanted to deliver his besieged castle, or when he set out on a declared war – a war, that is to say, entered upon in the interests of the inhabitants. But, although closely bound to him, the vassal might abandon his lord in certain cases specified in the capitularies of the years 813 to 816, to wit, if his lord had sought to kill him or reduce him to slavery , beaten him with a stick or sword, dishonoured his wife or daughter, or robbed him of his patrimony.

    So soon as the authority of the feudal nobility was constituted, it became, in its turn, a source of trouble to the country whose defence it had been charged with. The barons, in order to enlarge their territories and extend their power, carried on continual warfare among themselves, only interrupted now and again by a short truce necessitated by the tillage of the fields. The wars of the barons may be compared to the industrial and commercial competition of modern times. The outcome is the same; both alike culminate in the concentration of property, and the social supremacy which it bestows. The vanquished, when not killed outright or utterly despoiled, became the vassals of the conqueror, who seized upon a portion of their lands and vassals. The petty barons disappeared for the benefit of the great ones, who became potent feudatories, and established ducal courts at which the lords in vassalage were bound to attend.

    It frequently happened that the barons turned highwaymen, who plundered the fields and robbed the towns and travellers; they deserved the epithets of gens-pille-hommes, gens-tue-hommes (killers and pickers of men) which were applied to them.

    The towns were constrained to put themselves under the safeguard of the king or great feudatories, who concentrated the lands and feudal power, and changed the barons into courtiers. But in proportion as the petty barons disappeared, by so much the warfare slackened between castle and castle; a measure of tranquillity was restored to the country, and the necessity for feudal protection ceased to be paramount. The lords, consequently, were in a position to absent themselves from their domains and to betake themselves to the ducal and royal courts; thither they went to play the courtier, and ceased to act as defenders of their vassals and dependants. From the hour that the cultivator no longer stood in need of military service, the feudal system had no reason to exist. Feudalism, born of warfare, perished by warfare; it perished by the very qualities which had justified its existence.

    But so long as the feudal system subsisted, there remained traces of the primitive equality which had been its cradle, even though every vestige had disappeared of the equality which had distinguished the relations of the lord with his tenants and vassals. The feudal lord and the vassal became co-equals once again in the communal assemblies which discussed the agricultural interests alike of the villager and the lord; the assemblies met without his sanction, and despite his unwillingness to convoke them. His communal rights were as limited as those of the rest of the inhabitants; the heads of cattle he was entitled to send to pasture on the commons were strictly prescribed. Delisle, in his interesting study of the agricultural classes of Normandy, cites texts which show the limitation of his rights, e.g., the Seigneur de Bricqueville was entitled to send only two oxen and one horse to graze on the meadows. He was so far from being privileged that as La Poix de Frémenville, the great feudal jurist, informs us, “The lord who possesses no cattle of his own is not allowed to introduce any strange cattle, whether by letting on lease, selling, or even lending gratis his rights of common.”