Government

That mixture in the English Government, that harmony between King, Lords, and commons, did not always subsist. England was enslaved for a long series of years by the Romans, the Saxons, the Danes, and the French successively. William the Conqueror particularly, ruled them with a rod of iron. He disposed as absolutely of the lives and fortunes of his conquered subjects as an eastern monarch; and forbade, upon pain of death, the English either fire or candle in their houses after eight o’clock; whether was this to prevent their nocturnal meetings, or only to try, by an odd and whimsical prohibition, how far it was possible for one man to extend his power over his fellow-creatures. It is true, indeed, that the English had Parliaments before and after William the Conqueror, and they boast of them, as though these assemblies then called Parliaments, composed of ecclesiastical tyrants and of plunderers entitled barons, had been the guardians of the public liberty and happiness.

The balance in the English Government, the harmony between King, Lords, and Commons, did not always exist. For many years, England was enslaved by the Romans, the Saxons, the Danes, and the French in turn. William the Conqueror, in particular, ruled the English with an iron fist. His power over his conquered subjects’ lives and property was as absolute as an eastern monarch’s. He forbade the English, on pain of death, to have fires or candles in their homes after eight o’clock. Was this ban meant to prevent nighttime meetings? Or was it merely a strange, arbitrary way to test how far one man could extend power over his fellow human beings? It is true that the English had Parliaments before and after William the Conqueror, and they boast about those assemblies. Yet these so-called Parliaments consisted of church tyrants and plunderers with the title of baron. The English boast as though such assemblies had protected public liberty and happiness.

The barbarians who came from the shores of the Baltic, and settled in the rest of Europe, brought with them the form of government called States or Parliaments, about which so much noise is made, and which are so little understood. Kings, indeed, were not absolute in those days; but then the people were more wretched upon that very account, and more completely enslaved. The chiefs of these savages, who had laid waste France, Italy, Spain, and England, made themselves monarchs. Their generals divided among themselves the several countries they had conquered, whence sprung those margraves, those peers, those barons, those petty tyrants, who often contested with their sovereigns for the spoils of whole nations. These were birds of prey fighting with an eagle for doves whose blood the victorious was to suck. Every nation, instead of being governed by one master, was trampled upon by a hundred tyrants. The priests soon played a part among them. Before this it had been the fate of the Gauls, the Germans, and the Britons, to be always governed by their Druids and the chiefs of their villages, an ancient kind of barons, not so tyrannical as their successors. These Druids pretended to be mediators between God and man. They enacted laws, they fulminated their excommunications, and sentenced to death. The bishops succeeded, by insensible degrees, to their temporal authority in the Goth and Vandal government. The popes set themselves at their head, and armed with their briefs, their bulls, and reinforced by monks, they made even kings tremble, deposed and assassinated them at pleasure, and employed every artifice to draw into their own purses moneys from all parts of Europe. The weak Ina, one of the tyrants of the Saxon Heptarchy in England, was the first monarch who submitted, in his pilgrimage to Rome, to pay St. Peter’s penny (equivalent very near to a French crown) for every house in his dominions. The whole island soon followed his example; England became insensibly one of the Pope’s provinces, and the Holy Father used to send from time to time his legates thither to levy exorbitant taxes. At last King John delivered up by a public instrument the kingdom of England to the Pope, who had excommunicated him; but the barons, not finding their account in this resignation, dethroned the wretched King John and seated Louis, father to St. Louis, King of France, in his place. However, they were soon weary of their new monarch, and accordingly obliged him to return to France.

The barbarians who came from the shores of the Baltic and settled across the rest of Europe brought their government with them. This system was called States or Parliaments. People make so much noise about these assemblies, yet understand them so little. Kings, indeed, did not have absolute power in those days. But for that very reason, the people were more miserable and more completely enslaved. The chiefs of these savages, who had devastated France, Italy, Spain, and England, made themselves monarchs. Their generals divided the conquered countries among themselves. From these generals came the margraves, peers, barons, and petty tyrants who often challenged their sovereigns for the spoils of entire nations. These were birds of prey fighting an eagle for doves whose blood the winner would suck. Instead of being governed by one master, each nation was trampled underfoot by a hundred tyrants. The priests soon took a role among these rulers. Before this, the Gauls, the Germans, and the Britons had always been ruled by their Druids and village chiefs. These chiefs were an ancient kind of baron, less tyrannical than their successors. The Druids claimed to act as mediators between God and humanity. They made laws, thundered out excommunications, and sentenced people to death. Under Gothic and Vandal rule, bishops gradually took over the Druids’ worldly authority. The popes placed themselves at the head of the bishops. Armed with papal letters and decrees, and supported by monks, the popes made even kings tremble. They deposed and assassinated kings whenever they pleased. They used every trick to funnel money from every part of Europe into their own purses. The weak Ina was one of the tyrants of the Saxon Heptarchy, England’s seven kingdoms. During his pilgrimage to Rome, he became the first monarch to agree to pay St. Peter’s penny for every house in his dominions. This payment was worth nearly a French crown. The whole island soon followed his example. England gradually became one of the Pope’s provinces. From time to time, the Holy Father sent his legates there to collect outrageous taxes. At last, King John signed a public document surrendering the kingdom of England to the Pope, who had excommunicated him. But the barons saw no advantage for themselves in this surrender. They dethroned the wretched King John and replaced him with Louis, father of St. Louis, King of France. However, the barons soon tired of their new monarch and forced him to return to France.

Whilst that the barons, the bishops, and the popes, all laid waste England, where all were for ruling the most numerous, the most useful, even the most virtuous, and consequently the most venerable part of mankind, consisting of those who study the laws and the sciences, of traders, of artificers, in a word, of all who were not tyrants—that is, those who are called the people: these, I say, were by them looked upon as so many animals beneath the dignity of the human species. The Commons in those ages were far from sharing in the government, they being villains or peasants, whose labour, whose blood, were the property of their masters who entitled themselves the nobility. The major part of men in Europe were at that time what they are to this day in several parts of the world—they were villains or bondsmen of lords—that is, a kind of cattle bought and sold with the land. Many ages passed away before justice could be done to human nature—before mankind were conscious that it was abominable for many to sow, and but few reap. And was not France very happy, when the power and authority of those petty robbers was abolished by the lawful authority of kings and of the people?

While the barons, bishops, and popes all devastated England, all sought to rule over the largest part of humanity. This was also the most useful, even the most virtuous, and therefore the most deserving of respect. It included those who studied law and science, traders, craftspeople, in short, everyone who was not a tyrant. These were the people, as they are called. Yet their rulers, I repeat, regarded them as animals beneath the dignity of the human race. In those days, the common people were far from having any share in government. They were serfs or peasants, whose labor and blood belonged to their masters, who called themselves the nobility. Most people in Europe then were what people still are in several parts of the world: serfs or bondsmen of lords. In other words, they were a kind of livestock, bought and sold with the land. Centuries passed before justice could be done to human nature. Only then did people recognize how abominable it was for many to sow and only a few to reap. And was France not very fortunate when the lawful authority of kings and the people abolished these petty robbers’ power?

Happily, in the violent shocks which the divisions between kings and the nobles gave to empires, the chains of nations were more or less heavy. Liberty in England sprang from the quarrels of tyrants. The barons forced King John and King Henry III. to grant the famous Magna Charta, the chief design of which was indeed to make kings dependent on the Lords; but then the rest of the nation were a little favoured in it, in order that they might join on proper occasions with their pretended masters. This great Charter, which is considered as the sacred origin of the English liberties, shows in itself how little liberty was known.

Fortunately, as conflicts between kings and nobles violently shook empires, the chains binding nations became more or less heavy. Liberty in England grew out of quarrels between tyrants. The barons forced King John and King Henry III to grant the famous Magna Charta. Its main purpose was indeed to make kings dependent on the Lords. But the charter also gave the rest of the nation a few benefits. These benefits were meant to encourage the people to side with their supposed masters when the occasion called for it. This great Charter is regarded as the sacred source of English liberties. Yet the charter itself shows how little people understood liberty.

The title alone proves that the king thought he had a just right to be absolute; and that the barons, and even the clergy, forced him to give up the pretended right, for no other reason but because they were the most powerful.

The title alone proves that the king believed he had a rightful claim to absolute power. It also proves that the barons, and even the clergy, forced him to give up that supposed right. They did so for no other reason than that they were the most powerful.

Magna Charta begins in this style: “We grant, of our own free will, the following privileges to the archbishops, bishops, priors, and barons of our kingdom,” etc.

Magna Charta begins like this: “We freely grant the following privileges to the archbishops, bishops, priors, and barons of our kingdom,” etc.

The House of Commons is not once mentioned in the articles of this Charter—a proof that it did not yet exist, or that it existed without power. Mention is therein made, by name, of the freemen of England—a melancholy proof that some were not so. It appears, by Article XXXII., that these pretended freemen owed service to their lords. Such a liberty as this was not many removes from slavery.

The House of Commons is never mentioned in the articles of this Charter. This absence proves that the House did not yet exist, or that it existed without power. The Charter does specifically mention the freemen of England. Sadly, this proves that some people were not free. Article XXXII shows that these supposedly free men owed service to their lords. Freedom like this was only a few steps away from slavery.

By Article XXI., the king ordains that his officers shall not henceforward seize upon, unless they pay for them, the horses and carts of freemen. The people considered this ordinance as a real liberty, though it was a greater tyranny. Henry VII., that happy usurper and great politician, who pretended to love the barons, though he in reality hated and feared them, got their lands alienated. By this means the villains, afterwards acquiring riches by their industry, purchased the estates and country seats of the illustrious peers who had ruined themselves by their folly and extravagance, and all the lands got by insensible degrees into other hands.

Under Article XXI., the king orders his officers not to seize freemen’s horses and carts unless they pay for them. The people saw this order as a real freedom, though it was a greater tyranny. Henry VII., that fortunate usurper and great politician, pretended to love the barons, though he actually hated and feared them. He arranged for their lands to be sold. As a result, the peasants, who later grew rich through hard work, bought the estates and country houses of illustrious peers. Those peers had ruined themselves through foolishness and extravagance. And so, little by little, all the lands passed into other hands.

The power of the House of Commons increased every day. The families of the ancient peers were at last extinct; and as peers only are properly noble in England, there would be no such thing in strictness of law as nobility in that island, had not the kings created new barons from time to time, and preserved the body of peers, once a terror to them, to oppose them to the Commons, since become so formidable.

The power of the House of Commons grew every day. The families of the old peers had finally died out. Since only peers count as nobles in England, legally speaking, the island would have had no nobility left. But the kings had created new barons from time to time, keeping the body of peers alive. The peers had once terrified the kings. Now the kings used the peers to counter the Commons, whose power had become so threatening.

All these new peers who compose the Higher House receive nothing but their titles from the king, and very few of them have estates in those places whence they take their titles. One shall be Duke of D-, though he has not a foot of land in Dorsetshire; and another is Earl of a village, though he scarce knows where it is situated. The peers have power, but it is only in the Parliament House.

All these new peers in the Higher House receive nothing from the king but their titles. And very few own estates in the places their titles come from. One is Duke of D-, though he owns not a foot of land in Dorsetshire. Another is Earl of a village, though he hardly knows where the village is. The peers have power, but only in Parliament.

There is no such thing here as haute, moyenne, and basse justice—that is, a power to judge in all matters civil and criminal; nor a right or privilege of hunting in the grounds of a citizen, who at the same time is not permitted to fire a gun in his own field.

There is no haute, moyenne, or basse justice here: no power to judge in all civil and criminal matters. Nor does anyone have the right or privilege to hunt on a citizen’s land while the citizen is forbidden to fire a gun in his own field.

No one is exempted in this country from paying certain taxes because he is a nobleman or a priest. All duties and taxes are settled by the House of Commons, whose power is greater than that of the Peers, though inferior to it in dignity. The spiritual as well as temporal Lords have the liberty to reject a Money Bill brought in by the Commons; but they are not allowed to alter anything in it, and must either pass or throw it out without restriction. When the Bill has passed the Lords and is signed by the king, then the whole nation pays, every man in proportion to his revenue or estate, not according to his title, which would be absurd. There is no such thing as an arbitrary subsidy or poll-tax, but a real tax on the lands, of all which an estimate was made in the reign of the famous King William III.

In this country, no one is exempt from certain taxes because he is a nobleman or a priest. All duties and taxes are set by the House of Commons. The Commons has greater power than the Peers, although the Peers rank higher. Both the spiritual and temporal Lords may reject a Money Bill introduced by the Commons. But the Lords cannot change any part of the bill. They must either pass the bill as it stands or reject it entirely. Once the Lords have passed the bill and the king has signed it, the whole nation pays. Every man pays in proportion to his income or property, not his title, which would be absurd. There is no arbitrary levy or poll tax, but a tax assessed on land. All the land was valued during the reign of the famous King William III.

The land-tax continues still upon the same foot, though the revenue of the lands is increased. Thus no one is tyrannised over, and every one is easy. The feet of the peasants are not bruised by wooden shoes; they eat white bread, are well clothed, and are not afraid of increasing their stock of cattle, nor of tiling their houses, from any apprehension that their taxes will be raised the year following. The annual income of the estates of a great many commoners in England amounts to two hundred thousand livres, and yet these do not think it beneath them to plough the lands which enrich them, and on which they enjoy their liberty.

The land tax remains unchanged, though income from the land has increased. So no one is oppressed, and everyone lives comfortably. The peasants’ feet are not bruised by wooden shoes. They eat white bread and are well clothed. They are not afraid to increase their herds or put tiles on their roofs. They have no fear that these improvements will lead to higher taxes the following year. Many commoners in England earn two hundred thousand livres a year from their estates. Yet these landowners do not consider it beneath them to plow the land that enriches them and where they live freely.