Neither the internal development of the medieval state nor
the international politics of medieval Europe can be explained without constant
reference to class distinctions. First, there is a sharp line dividing each
state horizontally and marking off the privileged few from the unprivileged
many, the rulers from the ruled. Below the line are the traders, artisans, and
cultivators of the soil; above it the landlords, the officeholders, and the
clergy. If an industrial community, here and there a Milan or a Ghent, succeeds
in asserting political independence, the phenomenon is regarded as anomalous
and revolutionary; still graver is the head-shaking when mere peasants, like
the Swiss, throw off what is called their natural allegiance. And such cases of
successful rebellion are rare.
It is true that in England, in France, and in
the Spanish kingdoms there are privileged towns which receive the right of representation
in national assemblies; but this concession to the power of the purse is
strictly limited; the spokesmen of the burgesses are not invited to express
opinions until asked for subsidies or military aid. Government is the affair
of the King and the privileged classes. But again there is a division within
the privileged classes, a vertical line of cleavage between the various grades
of the lay and clerical aristocracies. The prelate and the baron, the knight
and the priest, harmonious enough when it is a question of teaching the
unprivileged their place, are rivals for social influence and political power,
are committed to conflicting theories of life. The ecclesiastic, enrolled in an
order which is recruited from every social grade, makes light of secular rank
and titles; he claims precedence over every layman; he holds that it is the
business of the Church to command, of princes to obey.
